Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

I’ve had a tough week. Not like I compare the days anymore, as I did when I first found myself in the City; writing, describing, counting all the horrors I saw each day, how this one cyborg was particularly resilient… These interactions have become monotonous for me now.

Something that is forever changing around here, however… The air. Besides its dreadful quality from day one, the metallic dust clusters more and more every day, making particular spots worse than others. You never realise you may be walking through a bad spot until you suddenly start coughing, almost wishing you had listened to your parents and brought that old inhaler with you. I truly think my asthma might be coming back. The only guidance for your guaranteed escape is the blinding, bright lights of the City’s street lamps and advertisements… 

I keep wishing that one of these days, I’ll follow a light and it will lead me to you, February. You truly do shine brighter than the others.

[...]

But, February, I’m scared I’m losing sight of you. The lights, the air… I see one less star in the night sky as each day passes. I almost hope its pollution worsening my view, because if not, the exploded stars must have finally finished travelling to Earth, and I’m caught up to the present.

I don’t like it. 

I’ve decided I will forever live in the past, where you are February, and maybe, one day, we will see each other again. If I remain in the present, who knows what will come of the sky? I witness its losses of its sparkle the longer I am here. 

How do I know, February, that you are still with me? How do I know you haven’t left? It would be nice to hear from you. When we last saw each other, you shone so bright. Would you burn as bright in the sky in Universe City? You never did like the City either. I only wish to get out just as you did.

Perhaps I was right. Perhaps you already have exploded. I would’ve expected you to shine forever. Or perhaps the City has destroyed our contact too. My contact. It was almost parasocial. Voyeuristic. Though I do wonder if you were ever looking for me too.

Is it too ambitious? To hope you still see me? To hope you still care? To hope you never left me in the first place? Perhaps I am too ambitious, perhaps I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. But I could only wish to fly too close to the sun. 

Because maybe I’d get a glimpse of you, February, in my final seconds.

[…]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

Anyway… God. Sorry for rambling, I never even asked how you are, old sport… who am I kidding? I barely know if I’m making any noise anymore. Why would I expect you to?

You know Leftley Square? I managed to find a free bench there the other day. It was nice to sit there for a while, weirdly enough.

I never dare to look up, though.

It’s starting to scare me more and more recently, how all these students are zombie-like. I swear they all look the same, their faces all blurry messes. Is it my vision going blurry or am I getting sick? Sick and tired of being here, probably. They wander around endlessly with fake smiles on their faces. Are they really that happy to be stuck here? Going to the same lectures over and over again? Are they even learning anything new anymore? I sure am, I’m the one who’s really studying here.

And in my research, I’ve become convinced those backpacks must be super-glued onto their backs. And yet, they don’t seem to complain!

And, as if by magic, the bags disappear - and often, a couple of layers of their clothes too - right when you start to hear those dreadful noises of EDM fill the City. They crawl from bar, to club, to bar, in and out of the same buildings where their lectures were that morning. Oh, but don’t worry, they’ll change back to those lovely lecture halls in the morning.

I’ve never actually… witnessed this for myself. It’s only what I’ve heard from some of my contacts. I typically try to avoid the streets during those hours… when I can, at least.

The music… Well, the bass is not exactly easy to sleep through, and I find myself wandering the different rooftops in the City. You’d be surprised at how many people keep their roof doors unlocked, old sport.

Despite being so far away, I still feel the bass rumbling in my feet. The same music each night… or, at least, they all sound the same to me.

Sometimes, if it’s really bad, I’ll give out from my hiding spot and visit that haunted telephone box on Tomsby Street. The boxes are soundproof, after all. Sure, there might be some ghouls screaming in your ears, but, at this rate, I’d rather it over the constant, awful music outside.

Those ghosts could probably make better music than the ones they play at those bars… and they don’t even have a sense of rhythm… they don’t even have a heart beat anymore… Do you get it? Hah… I was never the best at jokes. I really am sorry.

I’m getting tired. Can you tell? [Sudden, but distant, noise of a miscellaneous bass-boosted beat begins to play] Shi… Is it really this time again? [Sighs] I’ll check back in with you later, old sport. I’ll tell the ghosts you say ‘hi’… It would be nice to hear someone say hi to me.

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

You might have remembered that I mentioned my contact last time. I’m sorry I didn’t go into much detail, old sport, but I feel as though right now is as best a time to do so.

Recently, my main contact for night updates has been talking to me more and more recently. He goes by K. Well, he goes by ‘Nightcrawler’, actually. I thought that sounded too stupid, personally. When he first spoke to me, I told him this. I asked him where he got the name from. The movie? He didn’t know what I was talking about. The superhero? He also didn’t know… I then asked him if he named himself based on the Nightcrawler worm. That’s when he went silent, before defeatedly asking me to just call him K.

Let me get this straight, though. I’ve never met K.

We came in contact one night a while ago. It was the same night I discovered the telephone box as a new hiding place during the night. While the horrors were scaring me much more than they do today, what shook me the most was the sudden ringing of the phone. I hesitated for so long as I decided whether or not it could just be another horror of the telephone box, before picking it up anyway. It was K who was calling.

Without even saying hi, he began speaking constantly, in what sounded like gibberish, or another language. I listened to him, for about an hour. There must be some meaning behind these words, but I couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Instead… I just sat and listened. I wonder if anyone does the same for me.

Except with his luck, I eventually mustered up the courage to give him an answer. A quiet, ‘...hello?’ between his sentences was enough to confuse him - he was used to ghouls on the other end of the phone. That only meant that he was more than happy to talk to me.

His words weren’t gibberish, but rather code. He doesn’t dare to elaborate further. We both know the City can hear. The line goes quiet, and as I was worrying that our communication had been cut, a sudden slip of paper appears under the door of the telephone box. I look up to see an empty street. K’s voice returns on the phone, asking me if I understand.

The paper, as I scanned it, showed possibly hundreds of code words, alongside their meanings. I reply, ‘I understand’.

I am on call with K every night now. Although I may still have to refer to the code sheet sometimes, I am able to be updated on all the ongoing movements of the night because of him. And we even get to talk in between his updates, sometimes. I really think I’m helping him open up to me, old sport. It’s nice to be able to do that for someone. Even if I still don’t exactly know who he is. Or where he is. At least I have one explanation for my feeling of being constantly watched.

[Distant ringing of a phone is heard in the distance]

Is that…? The… phone box…? Huh. Early call today… that’s new. Well, I better find out what Nightcraw… ‘K’... wants. Hm. The nights are only getting earlier, after all, old sport.

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

Let me tell you, old sport. This past week has been… odd.

Remember that call from K? That cut me short? He called to ask if I wanted to join him for his patrol that night…

My parents always reinforced stranger danger when I was a kid, but when you end up in the City, that rule flies out the window. So, naturally, I agree to meet up.

It wasn’t as if I had never talked to the guy. I just didn’t know what to expect. I’ve certainly heard bad reviews of the online dating scene around here… who taught the cyborgs to catfish?

But I digress. K asked to meet on some rooftop, not one which I’ve ever been on before. I presume he must have tough security… to keep up the anonymous identity. 

As I emerge on the rooftop, I am greeted - not by K - but by his setup. Multiple monitors of hacked CCTV footage, numerous pages of scribbled notes in writing, all without a desk for it to stand on. As I ponder over this… floor setup… it is only when I peer to my left that I see him.

He crouches on the edge of the roof, a dark figure; a moving shadow. His head peers from left to right, back and forward, scanning the streets carefully. I don’t think he noticed me come in until I cleared my throat.

When he turns around I am still greeted by that same black figure. I just about can’t make out his face… with a mask and a hood, he remains anonymous, even to the human eye.

His energy immediately catches me off guard. He walks over to me, and, chipper as ever, holds out a hand and he awkwardly initiates some handshake I was unable to follow along with.

The night was normal, for the most part. He walked me through his setup and I got to experience how he patrols first hand.

[...]

As we’re wrapping up for the night, with the sun rising in the distance and students stumbling home, K turns to me. He told me that, even though the sun is returning, the clubs haven’t gone yet - and they won’t be for 30 more minutes. He decided to ask if I wanted to join him… on, what he describes as his, ‘end-of-patrol party’... which he does daily.

Old sport, if I were to tell you anything, it’s that I hate these clubs.

Sticky floors, deafening electronic music, sweat, spilt drinks on your favourite clothes… I’ve never understood the appeal.

Despite this, I agreed to go. What’s 30 minutes anyway?

To answer that question, a lifetime.

Immediately as we get in, K heads straight for the bar, orders two drinks and hands me one. I didn’t know what it was… and I still don’t know.

K begins to dance and jump about like crazy… and there I am, still as a tree.

The music just goes through me… in all the worst ways possible. It’s scratching at my ears… it makes my head pound. I was already sick of it.

I turn to K - who’s still very enthusiastically jumping around - and, as best and loud as I can, tell him I feel ill. I tell him I’m heading out.

He assures me I’ll be fine with some drink in me. That it’ll get my… ‘dance on’ and I’ll immediately feel better. I tell him otherwise, but he persists.

I decided to leave without saying anything.

He calls me the next night, asking if, ‘We good?’, in his words.

I decided to say yes. Despite everything from the previous night, just to assure him.

He once again invited me to patrol that night. I respond, ‘ Just patrol.’

[...]

K finishes patrol early that night so we can hang out. As I am about to ask what he has in mind, he interrupts, telling me we have the ‘privilege’ to spend a whole hour in clubs this time.

I sigh and show my reluctance, suggesting a park, or maybe a cafe, as they are just now opening up for the morning.

He tells me he doesn’t see how that’s fun. He insists on the clubs. Will even buy me a drink, he says.

I tell him no. He doesn’t accept any of my explanations, which he deems ‘excuses;. I leave. I haven’t spoken to him since.

The phone box rings endlessly, and I’m searching for a new hiding spot. There are very few that allow you to hide from the monsters, but even fewer to hide you from Nightcrawler himself.

What am I to do, old sport?

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

I really do apologise for not speaking to you as of late, February, but it seems I have been caught up in other matters as of recently… with K.

You wouldn’t like him, and neither do I, if I am honest… you would be mad about me hanging out with him. You would equally be mad that I can’t tell him, ‘no’, and complain that I’m too kind-hearted. I never thought such a thing would be a crime, but once again, I am proven wrong.

If only you were here, February.

I truly think I’d finally be comfortable, here, doing what everyone else is… being normal. I’ve almost forgotten the meaning of the word.

Instead, I feel the void of your absence grow every day, where time is a watering can, equipped with an infinite water supply. It is only a matter of time until I begin to drown, is it not? Without my own breath to keep me afloat, I am nothing without you.

I do nothing but think about you in the times when I have nothing better to do, and even more in the times when I have much to do. And if I were to see you again? Well, there’s much we must get up to.

Maybe I’d take you to one of these dreaded clubs, February, one of the many I have been taken to by K, as of recently. And we’d get to laugh about the bad music and the even more embarrassing dancers, unaware that they’re providing free entertainment exclusively for us. We’d be outside the chaos of the crowd, together, where I’d finally be free of this void and longing nothingness.

Or, rather, I’d take you on my normal, nightly routine… you, of course, would only use the time to berate me for my smoking habits, before picking up the cigarette yourself.

But, hence, you are merely a ghost in my shadow, February, that I cannot see. And although you may hear me, the cigarette smoke could never actually linger in your nose.

I wonder all the time… are you still moving through life, without me? Is such a thing possible, if I am unable to perceive you, in time? If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?

Unless, of course, there are others to perceive you and be with you instead, February, and I am merely a speck in your past. What have I been missing, being stuck so far back in your history? I… I just hope I haven’t missed much. I hope you bookmarked the page dedicated to me in the textbook about your life, even if I am only on page 2.

But what a selfish thought, of me, to ask you to press pause on your life, when it is me who is stuck in the past, February. I should be happy that you are growing. I should be happy that you’re moving forward. But I am so scared that you will never turn back to see me. Oh, how I wish you could see me.

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

I got so tired of running and hiding from him all the time, old sport.

He just kept calling. All. The. Time. If he wasn’t calling, he was actively trying to find me. At least I was always aware of it, going back into hiding whenever the phone stopped ringing.

One day, I was finally too sick of it. And on his possibly 1000th call of the week, I picked up.

Without letting him get a single word in, I immediately told him to just stop calling me.

I fully intended to just hang up on him right there, I swear old sport, but he rushed to ask me why I hadn’t been answering. Or joining him for patrol either.

All I can do at first is just deeply sigh in response.

He gave me some agitated, ‘What?’ before I began an almost endless rant about how he seems to only drag me on nights out I don’t even agree to.

And almost as if he ignores the whole thing, he asks, ‘Why?’ and, ‘Are you busy?’

I practically scream, ‘No!’ at him, telling him that I just don’t like going to clubs. That they’re an awful environment.

He says that’s ‘not a good enough reason.’

K… Nightcrawler doesn’t seem to understand why clubs can be so revolting… I tell him this. I tell him about the atmosphere, the sticky floors, the spilt drinks, the awful bass-boosted music.

He laughs .

He laughs and says, ‘Mate, just get drunk!’ tells me that I ‘won’t care about the music once I’m wasted’ and it’s the ‘only way to enjoy it.’

I told him that’s an awful way to live, and hung up.

I haven’t heard from him in days… and, I’ll be honest old sport, I’m happy about it.

Nightcrawler made the mistake of showing me his whole set-up… his codes, his hideout, and how he patrols The City.

I can do it myself.

And that is what I’ll do, old sport. I’ve hired myself to do the job! And well, hey, perhaps I can be of use to some of my other contacts. I rarely ever get to return the favour.

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

Okay… I may have lied to you before, old sport.

Don’t be mad! If anyone is mad, it’s me… I swear.

I said before that I hadn’t heard from K in a while… which was true… for a few days…

But he’s been calling again… not nearly as frequently as before, but just… every now and then.

I thought he was gone for good, I really did.

I wish he was gone for good.

But I won’t lie to you anymore… and in saying that, I… may have answered the phone a few times. Just a few times! There were some nights which were so quiet… no sound but the distant ringing of that darned phone. I really didn’t have much better to do.

I really wish I hadn’t answered… because he’s just gotten worse… I had no idea that that was even possible…

At first, it was as though he was trying to understand how I felt. He was still reluctant, sure, but he was letting me say no. Which was new.

But it started to deteriorate. He went from asking me to hang out to telling me that I should. The last time I called him, he questioned me, saying, “Seriously… You understand everyone does this, right? It’s normal to do this… to go out, to drink, to socialise . How do you expect to grow up without these experiences?”

It’s tiring… to listen to things like this. I almost found myself starting to believe him.

Not actually! It’s just… You know that little voice in the back of your head tell you otherwise, old sport?

I understand that I’m not normal. I’ve always known that.

I don’t think he’s exactly ‘normal’ either, old sport. How can you even define normal in The City? There are so many characters out there… But I guess, it still feels like there’s no one like me. 

I can tell myself that… over and over… but it’s almost as if he… K… reinforces it. Makes me actually… realise it. Makes me wonder why I’m not like others. Why I can’t seem to fit myself into the narrative of The City?

It was never like this before. God, I miss what it was like before.

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

It’s cold, old sport. But yet, here I am… on the rooftops once again.

The City is quietening down. There are so few people on the streets now that classes are out of term.

But I’m still not home… Or, I guess, you’re still not here, February.

[...]

Perhaps staying out on the rooftops at night during winter isn’t the greatest of ideas… But I haven’t been able to return to the telephone box… The constant. Ringing. I can’t do it anymore.

The horrors were never a problem for me. I never would have called them ‘horrors’ personally. But knowing K is sitting on the other end of that continuous ringtone is terrifying.

I don’t answer anymore. And I truly mean that, this time.

The last time I tried to talk and reason with him, he threw it all back towards me. Telling me I was wrong. He even started trying to tell me I did things I never remember doing.

And you and I both know, old sport, The City affects me in many ways. But it doesn’t dare to ever confront my memory. The list is long but Amnesia has never been a side effect of this place.

It’s almost crazy to think we once actually worked together at some point, me and K. That I used him as a contact. That I trusted him.

In fact… [faint chuckle], yeah. Yeah! Before K, I never dared to get any closer to a contact. People were contacts. Not a sidekick, never a friend.

And I won’t lie. I said I wouldn’t, old sport. I really did enjoy spending time with him on patrol. I think he did too.

How can he throw that away over one small thing? That I don’t share the same interest in an activity as him?

Am I not allowed to have my own preferences? My own interests?

Am I not allowed to be different? To be myself? To be the slightest bit imperfect? The slightest bit human ?

Perhaps K is one of those shapeshifters I mentioned before. Inhuman, and changes instantly into a new person when he interacts with something he doesn’t like. With a threat to his kind. A threatening, new, different perspective on life than him.

It must be so tiring to be so perfect all the time… who knew such a concept existed?

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

Clearly, I’ve had a bit of a mundane week, old sport. Sorry, I didn’t have much of an update for you.

My biggest trip of the week was when I decided my hair needed re-dying… meaning, I had to venture out onto the packed streets of the City to reach the shops. It’s truly an awful time to be in the City right now.

I’ll tell you a funny story though, old sport.

The people on these streets usually all blend together. They all walk simultaneously, always as if they have somewhere they urgently must be. But despite such rush, there is rarely any problems with the crowd.

For some reason, everyone seems to move out of the way for me.

I figured this out a while ago, seriously. I’m never forcing my way through people, but rather they always seem to be the ones to move for me. When I’d try to move out of the way, they’d move with me.

Which is why I’m so confused about what happened that day… Because I bumped into someone.

Not figuratively. I mean literally bumped into someone.

For a while, I just stood there. Motionless. Completely in shock as they began shouting at me, suggesting that I ‘look where I’m going next time’. I continue to stare, speechless, as they conclude that I’m ‘just like the rest’. 

That statement alone brought me back to reality. Someone, an actual person, telling me that I’m ‘just like the rest’. That I was normal .

But… I’m not, aren’t I?

In response, I immediately begin to apologise profusely. I say that they’re right, that I should’ve been more careful and that I’m sorry. Over and over.

And they say nothing. They look at me, in reciprocation, in complete confusion.

I didn’t realise this until maybe my fifteenth ‘sorry’, to immediately interrupt myself and ask, ‘What’s wrong?’

But they just keep staring at me. Then I realise… and they realise that I’ve realised…

We’re both the same. In that, we’re both different… from the others.

… Agh, I’ve got to go, old sport.

But don’t worry, I won’t leave you in silence.

♪ There’s nothing left for us anymore

Why aren’t you listening?

Why aren’t you listening to me?

There’s nothing left. ♪

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

I shouldn't have left you like that, old sport. I really am sorry.

The days are getting shorter and suddenly I’m patrolling the night for more hours than I would ideally ever want to.

I keep getting pulled away from the radio by the distant sounds of monsters and creatures slowly emerging… And don’t get me started on the ringing I can still hear from the telephone box…

Although I hate him, Nightcrawler would be a useful asset right about now… these patrols last forever.

[...]

Agh. Sorry, sorry! Back to the subject at hand.

Uhhh where was I? That story… that girl . Yes!

I think we were sitting staring at each other for like 5 minutes straight, mouths both slightly agape. We were both so excited, yet… confused at the sheer sight of each other. We studied the other’s being as if we were to be tested on them later.

She had hair shorter than mine, just reaching her chin. It had these faded purple streaks, with a mix of greens and blues… I presumed she must’ve dyed it often.

It was freezing, yet she had this dress on that cut down to just her knees, which were red, presumably from the cold. The dress was a floral pattern, with soft, warm colours. I wondered whether she had somewhere to be. Or maybe, she was truly like me. Fancy dress with nowhere to go.

Her eyes, filled with this deep brown hue, darted up and down, sometimes to meet mine. Sometimes to try and understand.

She stared at my hands for a while, then at my hair and then at my chest. The pink hair might be a distraction, sure, but I don’t think my suit and gloves are the craziest of sights. Not in the City, that’s for sure.

Especially if she’s decided to wear a dress in freezing temperatures.

I almost decided on something to say. But, with no warning, she just runs off…!

No joke, old sport. I actually wish I was kidding.

With a single blink, as if I had lost a staring contest right there, she starts her victory lap by running straight past me.

I shout after her. Nothing. I start waving my arms back and forth in the air, despite being in the middle of a moving crowd, still. Nothing. So, I started running.

For a while, I could still see her, as the crowd was parting a path for her, one which I was easily able to follow.

But suddenly I turn one corner, and the parting disappears. In fact, the whole crowd just… seizes to exist. And the street is empty.

I searched, old sport, I swear to you I searched.

I ran down that street more times than I could count. Checking every little side street and alley I could see. Double-checking. Triple-checking.

She was gone.

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

This is a signal… Oh, of, um… Distress… And… You get it… Do I have to say this every time?

I don't know why I’m asking you, old sport. You’re the one who needs to listen to me saying the same things over and over.

[Sighs]... I know you want me to get to the point. But… well…

There is none…

There is no point!

I haven’t seen her. Anywhere .

I’ve been on patrols, changing my location every night to somewhere new, places I’ve never even been before.

I called Nightcrawler… just in case he knew… That’s how you know I was desperate, old sport. That’s how you know I tried! I swear!

Of course, in all “Nightcrawler” fashion, he doesn’t let me speak and instead continues to ask why I haven’t been answering… blah, blah, same old stuff…

So, he was no use either.

I revisited those streets… Every. Day.

And nothing…! Just the same people, same crowds, moving out of the way for me.

I’ve started to theorise that she may have just dyed her hair a normal colour and changed out of that dress… It’s easy to blend into the crowd if you try hard enough… But why?

We met so quickly and exchanged such little words… Why did she have the urge to run? To hide?

I’m starting to give up hope, old sport. But I’ll keep trying. I need to know who she is…

[…]

…and she just had this faded, dyed hair! Just like mine! You would’ve been jealous of how cool she looks, as I feel about you, February.

I wonder if you’ll look any different, since I last saw you when we see each other again.

I wonder if you’re thinking about me as often as I think about you.

I do wish you were here. You would be able to find this girl, I just know it.

You always knew exactly where to look, whenever I lost something, or whenever we played ‘Where’s Wally?’, you’d always know in a matter of seconds where he was hiding.

You always found me, February, in my darkest of times. But how on Earth am I to find you? If I cannot even find Wally on a page of a children’s book, what chance do I have searching the universe for you?

Maybe you can find yourself… Perhaps, that’s what you’ve been away trying to do. Perhaps you already did. And for that, I am so proud. Please, February, let me find you; let me tell you how proud I am.

♪ There’s nothing left for us anymore

Why aren’t you listening?

Why aren’t you listening to me?

There’s nothing left. ♪

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

The City’s back, old sport.

The people are roaming the streets, hourly, going from lecture to lecture to lecture…

The collective stress fueling these wandering students increases every waking moment.

Oh, but you should wait until exam season, old sport.

Remember when I talked about the awful air conditions in the City? The metallic dust clusters? Well, it’s incomparable to the suffocating atmosphere created by the collective stressed minds of University students.

It’s a curse. A God-given plague across the land. It might not exactly be as literally suffocating as the airborne clusters, but everyone can feel it. You know when the season has arrived. We all do.

[…]

I attended some lectures this week, believe it or not, old sport. Something I haven’t done in a long time, ever since I first arrived here.

I quickly realised there was never any point in attending them, and instead, I could look for a way out of here.

And we all know how that has gone so far…

I can hear you asking, ‘Why?’... and I do understand…

To find her , old sport.

I promised you that I would try, so I have. I really, really have.

I checked all the places you shouldn’t be in the City. The rooftops, telephone boxes, those hidden lanes and alleyways no one else dares to walk down…

All the places I go.

And no one! Not another soul in sight.

Then I realised. We may be similar, but she’s not me .

That’s what I had been missing!

So, I’ve been going everywhere that I don’t go.

Lecture halls, seminar rooms, the student union…

Nothing! Though, unsurprising… for someone like me, it would be odd to spend their time in such places.

But, of course, there’s one place I have yet to check… The clubs.

Those smoke-filled, sticky-floored, condense-crowded, sweaty-walled torture traps.

And I’m going to have to willingly submit myself to them…!

[…]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[…]

I have great news for you, old sport.

I found her.

And all it took was to go to the place I absolutely despise. All it took was me stepping out of my comfort zone ever so slightly.

[Chuckles slightly]... If only I listened to you more, February…

[Clears throat] Hah, um… I’m sure you’re curious about what happened. I think I know you well enough by now, old sport.

I was entering my… Fifth? Club of the night?

To be clear, I was never staying long in each place. The music and the people… it’s just too much, sometimes. But I had to see if she was here… I had to…

The fifth club was not much different from the one before. Nor the one before that. Really, they all feel the same to me.

The bass of the same EDM remixes of the same songs shakes my bones in the same way it did in the last four clubs.

I was determined to get out of there as soon as possible. But not before I can score this place off my… very long checklist.

I walk in, making my way from the bar, which, of course, had a massive crowd surrounding it, slowly down to the dancefloor, looking at everyone I could… Yet, it didn’t help.

Until I found myself right in the middle of the dancefloor, standing absolutely still in the middle of a moving, drunken crowd. I tried my best to check my surroundings, but with the lights and the crowd… it was just too hard to see anything.

So I looked up.

The lights shone directly into my eyes before quickly moving off to light up the crowd. I retract my hand from my forehead, no longer having to shield myself from the blinding lights, to focus on the DJ on the stage in front of me.

I noticed how their hands moved meticulously across the soundboard, grabbing their headphones and bopping their head along to the beat.

In the other clubs, all the DJs had a laptop in front of them. All they did was press play.

Only then did I decide to take note of the DJ themself.

A knee-high dress… covered with flowers. Brown eyes, Chin-length hair… that was bright pink .

I quickly grabbed my hair and stared down at it in shock. The faded colour is only worse than it was before.

Among all my panic and rush to find this girl, I completely forgot my original plans to redye my hair. I completely forgot I even bought hair dye.

Because I never had it for long, did I?

I dropped it in shock when I bumped into the girl. I never thought to pick it up when she ran off; when I decided to try and find her.

But that’s why she ran… She stole it from right under my feet.

I’m brought back to reality when I hear the screeching sound from some feedback, and I immediately look back up to the DJ booth.

It was her. It was definitely her.

And she was staring right at me, microphone in hand.

She pauses for a moment, and says, ‘...So, you caught me.’

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[…]

So, it turns out that speaking through a microphone in the middle of your DJ set will mean that everyone in the room stops dancing to look right at you.

I see the girl study the room before wincing, drawing a breath through her teeth. She immediately placed the mic back down and turned the music back up.

Of course, in all of The City’s fashion, no one hesitates before starting to dance again.

I look back towards her and she nods her head off to the left, indicating to a stage door she must insist I go through.

So, I push open the door without thinking much further.

I think we’re beyond stranger danger at this point, old sport.

I was starting to believe I knew her more than some of my contacts by now… and we have never spoken to one another.

There was this ineffable, innate connection upon our first meeting where I knew she wasn’t just another useful contact to me, no… this was someone much more like me.

Immediately as I open the door, I jump back as I am met with her; face to face for the first time since my search began. Now that we were away from the neon lights in the club, I could see how truly pink her hair was. 

She immediately apologises about the stolen hair dye, which is surprising, as I’ve never seen someone who would appear to be an avid thief be so… apologetic .

And I mean really apologetic. She goes on this rant attempting to explain herself, but a few seconds in, I already couldn’t stop myself from laughing.

She looks at me, confused, as I sputter out in between laughs that I never even noticed. Not until this very moment.

That’s when we both started laughing, during which she tried to ask me how that was even possible, and I really didn’t know what to tell her.

When we eventually both sigh into silence and look back towards each other, she extends her hand out and gives me a small nod. I take her hand and firmly shake it back… ‘I’m Radio.’ I say, ‘Nice to meet you…?’ I trail off, anxiously awaiting an answer.

She replies, ‘Thalia.’

[…]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening…

Ok, no, I know what you’re thinking.

You think I sound weird.

Well, not weird, I hope but… New! A little different…?

I’m trying something out here, and it feels pretty right. It still feels like me, it still sounds like me.

Thalia has been trying to teach me to step a little more out of my comfort zone… And, she already got me to do that when I searched the clubs for her, so why not listen?

We have been hanging out a lot recently, not much else to do in the City, especially being alone.

I’ve just been inspired by her, old sport.

Her voice just sounds like falling asleep on fresh, new bed sheets for the first time… Sinking more and more into the mattress with every word…

I wanted to sound like that. So, I hope you’re feeling comfortable, old sport…!

It can be harder sometimes though, on days when I sink into that mattress… But I start to dream about you again, February, as her voice fades into yours.

Your voice is the one I ultimately fall asleep to February, but I can’t stand to only hear you in my dreams anymore. I just want to truly hear your voice again, with your comfort and touch as a package deal… It’s been so, so long.

[…]

You would really like Thalia, February.

You’d just love her. She’s really helping me open up, something you always wanted me to do. But, I suppose, the City is a better place to do so. We would never want me to burn as bright as you ever did; to steal your spotlight. Thank you for hiding me in your shadow… if only you would turn around now, February.

While I got to explore the City day by day, discovering its secrets so few people know of… I never seemed to do the one thing I could do in the City… explore who I am. So many people don’t know me… But do I even know me?

I have a funny little anecdote for you, February.

Thalia has so many variations of this dress - a floral dress, of different colours, lengths and styles.

[Chuckles softly] Perhaps I should be taking notes with my suits…

She showed me so many different ones, yet I had my eyes fixed on this beautiful white dress with blue flowers… it had these frilly, long sleeves and the skirt would flow all the way down to your ankles.

She insisted I try it on.

I won’t lie, I felt a little silly. Not because I’m used to my suit, no… but I did have my gloves on still, of course. They did not match the dress.

You would've been proud of me though, February. Right? I don’t know why I did it though… I swore to myself no one would’ve ever been able to get me out of my usual style. I like my style! But there’s something so liberating about twirling around in a dress, a sense of freedom. Just how a suit gives me that boost of confidence.

You always did care about your clothes, February. You were right, I get it now. You’re always right.

Do you feel free, February? Up there, in the sky, with all of those other shining stars. They do say the sky is the limit… But when you’re there, what else is there to stop you?

You know what’s funny? People say the sky is full of freedom, and they say the same about the City… yet, have you ever noticed that the places said to be full of freedom seem to feel the least free? Perhaps the idea of ‘being free’ is just having too many options. And no one is ever going to agree with every single one.

While no one in the City would ever care enough to judge, the freedom almost feels too free… do you understand me, February? You have the opportunity to do anything you ever wanted to do, but no one to praise you. No one to care. Is it worth it…?

If only you could see me too, February. Would you think of me as pretty? Handsome?

Or am I just me ?

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[…]

I wanted to take a moment to talk to you, February.

It feels like we haven’t been speaking as of much, recently. Well, at least not as much as I want to.

Not sure if that’s your fault, or mine anymore.

…It’s a little funny, actually.

I was so scared to get attached to anyone else because I thought it would mean I’d spend less time with you, February.

So, I distanced myself. From so many people.

I watched you as you shined, gracing so many lives with your presence

Wherever you are now, February, I hope the people around you know I would do anything to be in their position. To be able to just see you at any moment.

I don’t care who. A close friend. An acquaintance. A stranger who passes you in the street.

Anything just to get a glimpse at you again. Oh, I wish they knew the privilege they have.

I’d hope you would say the same for me… But I just don’t know anymore.

I tell myself that you must be so far, February, that I must be farther than arm’s reach. Farther than sound can travel. That I must’ve heard from you by now, if you could call out to me.

But so often do I just sit and ponder. Whether you want anything to do with me at all anymore. For I am just a figure in your past. A marble head in some museum. Even then, no one knows my name… Hah…

I struggle to tell if you still care for me anymore, February. Only so long ago would I have felt guilty for befriending Thalia. In fear she would be replacing you.

But the truth is, you are truly above all else. Figuratively and literally, as you glimmer in the night’s sky.

There is no possible way to replace you. Such that it is impossible for me to not think of you when I do the things we used to do. I avoided them for so long. But to sit in the memories and remember just brings me so much joy. Yet, so much sorrow as I wish you were here.

I always wondered if you felt the same. Or do you simply move through life, forgetting those that have got lost in the current and swept away by the sea? If so, I must be drowning… yet, my life’s never quite over. How…?

Stop swimming and throw me a lifejacket, February. Anything. Tell me anything to keep me afloat. To keep me going. I’ll listen to anything you say… if it’ll save me.

[Quietly, and distant] Selfish… I just feel so selfish. You were never selfish… You would never be like this, Feb…

♪ There’s nothing left for us anymore

Why aren’t you listening?

Why aren’t you listening to me?

There’s nothing left. ♪

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[…]

Life’s been interesting lately, old sport!

Me and Thalia have been spending a lot of time together recently, doing everything and nothing.

She took me to her hideout the other day, in the cellar of this random lecture building… One of the ones I searched for her in several times. Of course, I never thought to try the creepy cellar door!

I applauded her for her successful intimidation technique.

Her set-up was… So. Cool.

It put mine to shame . Seriously! It was impressive…

All these different monitors, with notes and maps posted around everywhere.

It became very clear very quickly that me and Thalia truly may be one of the same.

[Distant scrambling and footsteps]

[???]: What are you saying about me?

RADIO: [Chuckles lightly]... Nothing incriminating, I promise…! Stop eavesdropping on me, I told you I’m self-conscious about this! …Yeah, I… didn’t mention, old sport! Thalia is… here. Right now.

THALIA: You didn’t mention I was here?!

RADIO: I was getting there! You just rudely interrupted me before I got to that part!

THALIA: Should I be giving a review of your setup?

RADIO: [Surprised, taken aback] How long were you listening to me?!

THALIA: …No comment.

RADIO: …Would you mind leaving now and not listening in on my conversation?

THALIA: Fine… I’m gonna go raid your food stash.

RADIO: Can you no- … Aaand, she’s gone!

Old sport, meet Thalia. Thalia… old sport.

[…]

So little time left to talk to you, February.

That’s been happening more and more these days, hasn’t it? I’m sorry.

You never liked me apologising, I know. But I am. I’m sorry.

I will always be sorry. For everything. Anything. Whatever I did, and whatever I didn’t do.

Whatever made you run to the stars, and not look back.

I’d hope you’d be happy for me though, February… I made a friend!

I wish you could meet her. You two would get along so well. Maybe too well.

I can’t help but see you in her. The way she lightly teases me, unharmful and quietly. How much she makes me laugh with the things she does. The things she says.

Now, she’s no February. No one could ever possibly mean more to me than you do.

But she’s pretty cool. Just like you are, February…

THALIA: Who’s that…?

RADIO: [Distant clatter of items falling to the floor] Ah-! Thalia! More warning next time! And what did I say about eavesdropping…!

THALIA: Sorry… You were being so quiet, I thought you were done, I swear. Did you get ahold of someone? Who’s this February?

RADIO: Oh, um… No. No. I… February’s… someone… Y’know what? Lemme wrap this up. I’ll tell you all about them.

THALIA: Okay…! Yeah, no problem. This February sounds really special. I can’t wait to hear about them, Radio.

♪ There’s nothing left for us anymore

Why aren’t you listening?

Why aren’t you listening to me?

There’s nothing left. ♪

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[…]

Old sport! Ah! I have such a story to tell you!

You must remember that Thalia is a DJ, right? Which is so cool! …Even if I don’t often visit clubs personally.

Well, we were hanging out again recently and she tells me she managed to book a gig as a supporting act!

I was so, so excited. I told her I was going to buy flowers, toss them on the stage as she gave her final bow, cheer the loudest, and be the biggest supporter in that crowd.

But when she told me when it was…Oh, old sport, I felt so bad when I had to tell her I was busy.

I apologised over and over. I reassured her over and over, that I would still be that biggest supporter… I’ll just have to give her the flowers after the show…

Being Thalia, she laughs and tells me not to stress so hard. Which, as she should know by now, is something I have no idea how to do.

I told her she was right. Because there would always be a next show, and maybe someday, even her headliner. It was only until I said that when she told me off…

[…]

When the day of the show came, I made sure to wish Thalia the best of luck when I could, before I set off on my own plans that day… To a concert!

This band that I have been obsessed with from day one, since the first ever time they played at this carnival. Since that day, they have grown to be so much more popular, so, of course, it gets harder day by day to talk to them.

Let me tell you, old sport, I would just talk their ears off… about how much their music has inspired me, how much it just lifts me up every time I listen to it. Never mind whenever the opportunity to hear them live strikes, I swear, I could ascend to heaven every time.

I’m lucky to get a good spot in the crowd, second or third row, though I remember when it used to be so easy to get barrier… I started to wonder if they ever remembered my face.

The lines dimmed and everyone started screaming. It’s funny, old sport, how people scream at any small movements at concerts, knowing that the main act doesn’t come on for another hour.

I’ve always enjoyed the openers for this band, as they choose artists they really enjoy personally, and they have an undoubtedly good taste in music.

Which is why I shouldn’t have been surprised when I saw a very familiar pink head of hair enter the stage…

I scream Thalia’s name in amongst the varied cheers from the crowd, and she looks up right at me. Her face reads of total confusion, as well as mine, yet we were equally as overjoyed as one another.

[…]

After Thalia’s set, I get a message from her. A rare occasion, as we both agree against trusting these forms of communication, since the City monitors it 24/7.

She tells me to meet her at the bar. Despite my good space in the crowd, I decided to head back to talk to her. Really, old sport, I wanted to tell her how good her set was. She really knew how to excite a crowd.

Instead of talking, however, Thalia nods her head towards a door. Before I get to say anything, she’s already walked through.

As we walk down this hallway, I am asking Thalia so many questions.

‘How did you do this?’ and, ‘You know this is my favourite band, right?’ and, ‘How!?’

Yet, Thalia just stayed silent. The whole time we’re walking, I’m asking and asking, and only do I stop in my tracks when we make our way to the door at the end of the hallway.

The door was halfway open, and within seconds, I saw them all.

The band I have adored for years is all sitting right in front of me. Even the drummer, my favourite in the group, was lying on the couch with his boyfriend; who himself is an infamous professional rugby player.

Thalia introduces me, but I have no clue what to say. I had so many questions and so many thoughts. Yet, all of them at once leave my head at that very moment.

As I muster up the courage, I eventually get to talk to them. Questions came back to me, and these were truly lovely people; who did recognise me!

I thanked Thalia for hours and hours after the gig. And yes, she did get her flowers.

[…]

If only I could find the right people to meet you again, February. I’d queue for hours to see you again. Wait at the stage door even just to see you in passing, to get a glimpse of you again…

Yet, I also have so many questions for you too, February. But when will we ever have the time to talk? I’m running out of time, even now…

♪ There’s nothing left for us anymore

Why aren’t you listening?

Why aren’t you listening to me?

There’s nothing left. ♪

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

RADIO: Best night of my life! I still can’t believe it happened.

THALIA: Just another casual Friday night for me, really.

RADIO: How can you say that?! We watched the same performance, right? And from backstage?! It’s been so long since I’ve been in the front row at one of their concerts, never mind being able to stand and watch them from the stage! And to have a clear view of the drummer?! Seriously! How rare is it to get a proper view of the drummer at a concert, even if you’re in the front row? I have told you my favourite member is the drummer, right? Their style is so cool, not just musically but also with their clothing... Ah! I should’ve asked them where they got that one shirt- right, no, so there was this one performance they did, at this festival… Somewhere. I can’t remember exactly where, but the drummer was wearing this T-shirt… and honestly, I’m not even exaggerating, I’ve been searching for it forever! They must’ve made it themselves, or something…! I’ve seen similar styles but… It just doesn’t look like the real thing, you kno- … Why are you looking at me like that…?

THALIA: [While grinning] Nothing… [Clears throat], no, hah, really… Nothing. It’s just… You’re really excited. It’s cute…!

RADIO: Wha… What! Oh! Ah, um, thanks…?! …Sorry, I was ranting, I should’ve stopped myself. I didn’t mean to annoy yo-

THALIA: Oh! Oh, no, no. I wasn’t being sarcastic… I mean it. I love watching you be passionate about something. From this silly band to someone like your February… I could listen to you talk for hours about anything and never get bored. I’m almost jealous of you , old sport.

RADIO: Silly...?! Wait! Hey! That’s my thing…! You don’t get to call them old sport! Since when did you take over my job?

THALIA: Since two minutes ago when you murdered any potential listeners out of boredom from your rantings…!

RADIO: Wha-! You just said…! What happened to finding me interesting?

THALIA: I never said it was a universal opinion…

RADIO: How cruel…

THALIA: It’s a cruel world, darling. Especially in the City… You should know that more than anyone else…!

RADIO: I do… I would never have accused you of such a heinous comment, Thalia.

THALIA: Oh, Radio… Now how could you assume that…?

RADIO: I…

THALIA: Sorry… Go back to what you were talking about! Something about some T-shirt…?

RADIO: [Clears throat, chuckles] Yes! Um… Yes, right-

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

February, I miss you.

It’s odd that I don’t say that much. Yet, I know it’s obvious in my words that I do. I hope it is. I hope you know.

I wish I could tell you. I wish I could tell you that and so much more. I wish I could tell you everything.

So much has happened recently, February! Meeting the band I’ve adored for years that you always tried to show interest in, though you were never as enthusiastic as I was about them. But I could tell you tried. And I could tell it was for me. I just want to thank you. Tell you it meant the world to me.

I want to tell you about Thalia, and all the things we’ve gotten up to. I suppose this shall do, as it always must, but only if I could see your face.

Hear the gasp you let out about the drama.

See your smile in the reflection of mine as we laugh about the good.

[...]

I won’t lie. I think I almost died, February…

How else could I react to someone calling me ‘darling’? Darling?!

I think I melted right then and there… I need someone to come mop me off the floor…

I haven’t even mentioned when she called me cute?! Cute… ! February…!

I’ve sunk into the floor! I can no longer be revived…!

Agh…! How am I supposed to tell her, February? What if she’s just jokingly flirting?! What if this doesn’t mean anything to her…?!

You would know what to do… you always knew what to do.

Could you give me a sign, February? From all the way up there, as you take your rightful place in the sparkling night sky. Could you glimmer ever so slightly tonight and tell me what to do…?

We always could understand each other the best. I always knew what you were thinking, after a single glance at your face.

Can you see me now…? Can you tell me the answers, February? Unlock the secrets of the universe and throw me the key. You don’t have to tell me everything. But, please, February. At least give me a hint…

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

I have a question for you, old sport.

Have you ever had a dream you woke up from, despite wanting it to last forever? Maybe, even thinking that it would last forever? Just to be disappointed as you realise you wake up, back in the same place you’ve always been?

It’s almost a nightly recurrence for me now. Seeing you in my dreams, February.

How is it possible for dreams to be the impossible idea of heaven? Of a utopia? When every time you wake up, you live a recurring nightmare?

I dream of the times we spent together, all that time ago, February. Such simple tasks and activities we thought so little of, are suddenly only a figment of my mind’s creation.

However, my most recent dream was a little different. While, usually, my dreams include us spending time talking, hanging out, doing fun activities together, lately, we haven’t been doing as much.

The dreams have gotten quieter. We talk less. Although we still spend time together, it just felt different.

In my most recent dream, we were on a train. The carriage was silent, with no one else but the two of us sitting across from one another. All I could hear was the soft chugs and squeaks from the train moving beneath our feet.

It was peaceful. Though, strange, as I realised something was off.

My dreams often exist in another reality. A reality outside the City. A reality where I am free, with you, February.

While the inside of this carriage felt familiar, being the alternative reality I dream of, as I glanced outside of the window, I was faced with this wide view of the City. My dreams were now merging with my reality.

But we were protected. And we were together.

As we both stared outside the window for hours, watching everyone in the City, we were together.

I wonder now, is this where you watch us from, February?

You see us, you see me . Day and night, protected from the City’s forces from a birdseye view.

But yet, the train never stops. Have you ever seen a train station in the City?

I only wish for you to have company in the train carriage, like how I had you. It must feel lonely otherwise. While the City is isolating in its own regard, I couldn’t imagine what it would be like for you up there. I hope I can join you one day. Perhaps then you wouldn’t think too badly of it.

Nothing was ever too bad with you here.

Sometimes it feels like everything would be fixed if you were still here, February.

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

So much has happened since I last spoke to you, old sport.

When has it ever slowed down? You really shouldn’t be shocked by anything I say anymore.

However…

My message is much less of a distress signal for you, this evening. Well, not completely, anyway.

Being the chatterbox I am, I suppose, when has it been a proper distress signal recently?

Perhaps I should get back to my point…

Me and Thalia… may have… shared a small kiss…

It all happened so, so quick, old sport. It was… a lot to take in… but it was perfect, it was. It was my turning point.

A thousand thoughts run through my mind in that moment. This is what it’s supposed to feel like. This is what people talk about.

I think about my past. I think about so many times when I thought I knew. I think about so many times when I thought I’d never know. I think that this is it. That everything, every little thing, was for this moment.

Everyone else… My old contacts… Being stuck in the City… It was always for her.

I can live in the present. I can move from the past. I understand that February can exist with me here, with Thalia, with us. No longer do we both have to stay in the past to be together. My thoughts exist here, in the present.

All of my feelings led to how I felt in that moment. Ineffable and real, a feeling the City could never falsely create for me. It was personal, and I was present.

However, old sport… this was short lived.

As I moved away, grinning widely I slowly opened my eyes, expecting to see Thalia looking back at me, with the same familiar smile.

But she wasn’t.

She was gone. Again.

Once again, Thalia was only a speck on the horizon for me, as she continued to run, without a single look back.

I would call it a case of deja vu, but this time, she wasn’t running away because she stole anything. At least nothing physical…

Although she may not know it, she was running away with my heart in her hands. And I didn’t know if she was coming back.

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

Sorry, I haven’t been talking much, old sport.

Not much to say, is there?

[...]

I haven’t felt much motivation to do anything recently…

I haven’t fought a cyborg in a while… I hear screams at night and do nothing about it… [sigh].

[...]

She’s gone, old sport. Like really, I think she’s gone.

Have I looked for her? Well, not… really.

I went back to the nightclub she works at… But I didn’t see her there…!

After that, I didn’t know where to even start. So, I… Didn’t!

Rather than fighting cyborgs, there’s been a lot of internal conflict, recently.

This wasn’t Thalia’s first time running away. It’s not even her second, nor her third… I just didn’t mention the other times, as she always came back… Eventually, right?

Old sport… If someone keeps running away, at what point do you stop looking for them?

Surely, they’re leavi- they’ve left for a reason.

And even if they do come back, do you let it go? Do you pretend like nothing has happened? Even if you love them, is it safer to let them go?

Is that what it takes to exit this rollercoaster? This cycle of ups and downs; the highs make you feel infinite, yet there always has to be an end.

I don’t know anymore, old sport. It’s not as though I didn’t value our time together, or that I don’t care for her… But what good is it doing me? When I think about her all the time, yet, I seem so insignificant to her .

[...]

You’d tell me what to do, right, February?

I know this seems all too familiar with you.

You ran to the skies and never looked back. I should resent you for that. I should hate you.

But I know you, February. Exactly like you know me, I hope.

I hope you remember me as much as I remember you. In fact, I see you everywhere.

I see you in the park as I remember the picnics we used to have. I see you in the streets as I remember how we made our own fun in summer, drawing with chalk and spotting pictures in the clouds.

I see you on the rooftops which I roam, every day, as I remember the first time you let me try a cigarette, and I remember how loudly you laughed as I coughed in disgust… If you could see me now, February.

Gosh, I hope you see me.

I hope you see me and remember me in the little things.

I hope you’re reminded of me. In the same way you think of the beach every time sand falls out of your shoes.

I hope you’re able to think of the good of it. To not be reminded of how annoying it was that sand got stuck in your shoes, but how much fun was had on that same sand.

I hope you’re able to think of the good of me. Of us.

Because, truly, I am making a mess of myself now.

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[…]

And she just gives me the warmest hug… And I just melted into her arms, seriously.

I really missed hanging out with her, relationship or not, I just missed Thalia.

Oh yeah, sorry… Forgot to mention, Thalia came back, old sport.

And everything is fine! Don’t worry about it… We talked it through… Briefly.

I made sure she knew how I felt about her… Habit of running away.

Though I’m not sure how much my words got to her… the conversation moved on pretty quickly…

But! I put myself out there and I said how I felt. That alone is still something I struggle with doing these days…

I haven’t seen the only person who gave me the confidence to do so in oh, so long…

I say it often, but I do wish you’re proud of me, February. You give me strength still, even though you’re so far…

In everything I do, I tell myself you could’ve done it. I muster up my strength and ask myself how you would’ve done it. The answer is almost always without hesitation. Without worry. At least, not in any way of showing it.

Hell, I haven’t seen you in so long, February. There must be a reason for that. I know that perhaps you aren’t all of what you seem on the outside. 

I know you. But perhaps I know a different version of you. The version of you who I last saw. You’ve been gone for so long… Would it be better to say I knew you?

I wonder if I’m speaking to the same February I knew back then. I speak to the stars, yet, have you absorbed into the atmosphere? An unrecognisable energy is left, blind to the human eye, the remains of you… The star that exploded oh so long ago.

I still see your star, February… I know you’re still there… The February I know, how far away are they? Do you still know them? February? Hello…?

I know… I know how I sound. I should let you move on, February. If you ran, it must be because you were trying to erase the person you were. Before you let them go, could you tell them how much they meant to me? Let me plant some flowers before you put down the shovel. Maybe there, at the grave, I can learn all about you again. Allow me to know this new you.

…Perhaps this is why it bothered me that Thalia never discussed my feelings with me. She has every opportunity to converse with me… Something I haven’t been able to do with you, February, in ages.

I hope you would jump at the chance to speak with me again… I know I would. So, why isn’t she…?

[…]

Chapter Text

[…]

[…]

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[…]

RADIO: Also… Guess who’s back…?!

THALIA: …Do- They aren’t gonna respond right…? Do I just… speak…

RADIO: [Through quiet laughter] Yes… Yes… Go ahead.

THALIA: Hi Radio’s ghost listeners!

RADIO: Okay, you don’t have to call them ghosts -

THALIA: Well, have you ever had anyone respond?

RADIO: No…

THALIA: How come you opted for radio waves anyway…? You do know pretty much no one uses them…

RADIO: Well, exactly! The City doesn’t monitor the radio because no one’s on it. So I can talk freely, in hopes of someone else like me on the other line.

THALIA: Oh…! Wait- Why do we not use this?!

RADIO: I don’t know…! I didn’t think anyone else around here had a radio set up.

THALIA: Hmm… I could make something up.

RADIO: You can just… Do that?

THALIA: Yeah…! I have some spare parts lying around…

RADIO: Seriously… How are you that smart? The amount of talent- There are some cyborgs out there who shudder at your name…

THALIA: You… Just- Shut it…

RADIO: It would be cool if we could communicate on the radio when we can’t be together…

THALIA: Awh… Can’t survive a second without me, can you?

RADIO: Thalia… Come on…

THALIA: Oh! We could have like… Radio sleepovers!

RADIO: Sleepovers…?

THALIA: Yeah! Come on, how does that not sound fun? When was the last time you had a sleepover with a friend?

RADIO: Friend…?

THALIA: What…? Have you never had a friend , Radio?

RADIO: No… Not that… Thalia, you seriously see me as a friend…?

THALIA: Of course I do? What- Would you call us aquaintances??

RADIO: No… I’d call us more…

THALIA: Oh… Radio…

RADIO: Can we talk about this? Now?

THALIA: I don’t know…

RADIO: What do you mean you don’t know? That was a yes or no question…

THALIA: I just don’t know, Radio. 

RADIO: I’ve allowed you to not know for months now, Thalia. What do I mean to you, really?

THALIA: Everything… Really, everything… But-

RADIO: But…? Why is it always ‘but’, Thalia? Why can you never give me a straight answer…?

THALIA: [Timidly] Can we… can we talk about this later…?

RADIO: Seriously…?

THALIA: I’m not doing this now Radio. I’m sorry- [A chair squeaks and sounds of footsteps becoming more distant].

RADIO: …She never stays, old sport. At least now you know what I’m talking about. She cares, she likes me, she knows how I feel… Yet, there she goes again. She runs as though she is being chased, yet if she actually dared to glance behind her, all she would see is me, left behind.

I want to allow her to have this space, I want her to have this privacy… But this is frustrating. I’m not a villain for thinking so, right, old sport?

Miscommunication is barely even miscommunication anymore if it’s just straight up avoidance.

How am I supposed to have this kind of conversation? I don’t know how to talk to someone who keeps running… Maybe you would know, Februa-

…Maybe, I’m in this one alone…

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

I haven’t seen her since I last spoke to you, old sport. It’s been harder to wander the streets of the City these days. It’s been harder to get up and get the day started. Thalia and I were so close… We went from spending all our time with each other, to not speaking for days at a time.

What possible reason could she have…? For someone who cares the same way, she certainly doesn’t enjoy showing it.

It is so hard to read her mind. She doesn’t give me much to base any guesses on… If only she would talk to me. Have a conversation with me. One that doesn’t lead to her deflecting, or running away.

Every time I think we’re so close, but then the tide just goes back in again. And when that wave comes crashing back into shore, are we ever able to ebb and flow the way we once did?

Or am I back to drowning, waves crashing into my lungs I am no longer able to scream…? Did she ever hear me? Can she hear me?

I suppose I never recalled walking to the beach in the first place, old sport. But I found comfort in the waves. I found myself in the waves.

[A small and distant knock is heard in the background. Equipment rattles. Radio stutters in astonishment.]

Hello…?

THALIA: Can I come in…?

[ Beat. ]

THALIA:  Please, Radio. Can we talk?

RADIO: …Okay. Come in.

[Door squeaks open, footsteps approach.]

RADIO: Hold on. Let me just mute this call quickly.

[A button is pressed, but sound continues to play. A chair squeaks and footsteps get further away. A conversation begins from afar, distant and quiet.]

THALIA: Radio, I… I am so sorry.

RADIO: I know. You say this every time… Do you want to get to a point?

THALIA: I want to be with you. But… I can’t.

RADIO: What do you mean, Thalia? What do you mean, ‘you can’t’?

THALIA: I mean that I can’t. I care for you… So much . I have never met anyone else like you. But, I just can’t be with you.

RADIO: I don’t understand… That makes zero sense, Thalia.

THALIA: I know. And I’m sorry. I can’t… I can’t explain it very well. I just- I have other commitments-

RADIO: Other commitments?

THALIA: In the City. And I-

RADIO: What can even be meant by ‘other commitments’? There’s someone else?

THALIA: No, Radio. There’s no one else. I just… I can’t be with you.

RADIO: We’re in the City… What possible- What do you mean … I… How could you have other commitments? You don’t have time? How is it possible to have that problem here, Thalia? I run out of things to keep myself occupied, stuck here. And with you gone, even fewer things. And I just have to be stuck here while you go and do other stuff? Leave me, even though I love you ?

[ Silence . A quiet, but suppressed sob is heard as it breaks past Radio’s boundaries.]

THALIA: It’ll pass…

RADIO: But what if-

THALIA: I love you too . And it’ll pass.

[A much louder sob is heard. It comes from both Radio and Thalia, this time.]

RADIO: [Quietly, through tears] Will I ever see you again…?

[ Beat .]

THALIA: I think… that wouldn’t be good for either of us.

[The conversation fades into radio static. After a while, this fades to silence. Until a melody softly begins to play.]

♪ There’s nothing left for us anymore

Why aren’t you listening?

Why aren’t you listening to me?

There’s nothing left. ♪

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

Are you there, old sport?

I haven’t lost you too, right?

What am I to do…? I’m back to square one.

No Thalia... I can’t even talk to February anymore… Me and Thalia did so much together… I haven’t talked to my usual contacts in weeks… I didn’t need them anymore…

Now I have no idea what’s going on outside. I still hear the screams, I still hear the horrors, the typical cyborgs of the City.

I know I have you , old sport. But I can’t help but feel a little lonely again.

I’m not going to sulk around over Thalia as much as I can help it… I’m trying .

Well, you already know how I am with February, old sport. But I am trying to teach myself that… Maybe, if people run away, it’s for a reason. They probably don’t want to talk to you, for a reason .

I still don’t know the full situation with Thalia. It’s bothering me more than I want to admit.

Why can’t I just move forward? Why must I feel so strongly about wanting to know? Why must I think about her every waking moment, when I know she’s out there, able to distract her thoughts with… whatever it is she’s doing!

[...]

I have to admit to you, old sport…

I went over to her place. Thalia’s old setup. Not to see if she was there… I knew she wouldn’t be. I just wanted to see if… she left something...? I don’t know! I… I just needed to know.

It was empty; a desert. Well, except for a few things. They seemed to be the only thing keeping her memory alive.

You could see where her original set-up was. The table is still there, yet to collect dust. Her chair pushed far across the room as if she was rushing to get out.

Few things remained. A bin, toppled over under the table, with crumpled-up paper spilling out of it. I unravelled one, to read ‘Dear, Radio,’ but all that followed were scratches of a pencil. Scribbling out every word she wrote. I couldn’t make out a single word, no matter how hard I tried.

The other pieces of paper were of the same nature. One read ‘ Radio,’ with all the words, once again, scribbled out, except for ‘sorry’ and ‘leave’. 

There must’ve been at least a hundred of these letters. I simply didn’t have time to read them all. Instead, I quickly stashed all of the letters away in my jacket pockets and went to leave the room.

Before I opened the door, I found one more thing. An object, pieced together with a bunch of scrap metal, that had a prominent antenna, however, it had been snapped in two. The screen, now cracked, was flickering on and off.

I looked closer, to see that it was tuned to the same frequency I am speaking to you on, right now, old sport. She was listening. Yet, she never told me.

The makeshift machine had a microphone attached, that had also been broken in two. No wonder she was able to make the machine she promised to. But she wrecked it before ever using it.

We could’ve talked. We could’ve stayed in contact while she was away.

Yet, she decided to cut our ties before we even tried… But… why …?

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[…]

At this point, I won’t lie to you, old sport. I promised I would, remember? I do.

I’m happy that no one comes to visit anymore.

If you could see the state of this place…

Yes, okay, it’s my fault.

I talk to you now, old sport, with several papers all over my desk… Hold on, let me find something [paper crumples for a few seconds]… Ah, here!

Look at this one, old sport- Okay, well, I’ll read it to you.

‘R, I want to stay. But they’re making me go, I’m so sorry. I love you… This isn’t right-‘ … The letter gets cut off there.

Old sport, this was the only letter that didn’t have most of the words scribbled out.

More importantly, she was telling me she didn’t want to go. I didn’t know that before… Why didn’t she tell me?

All this time I’ve been… Angry at her for leaving… For not telling me why… For thinking she had a choice.

She didn’t have a choice… Why didn’t she have a choice?

I wonder all the time what the City is up to now. I thought I knew it all. I thought there was nothing more I could’ve learned about the City. But hence, here we are.

What? Who…? Would… Take her away…?

The stupid government…? The last time they were smart was when they started monitoring communication between citizens… And even then… Well, we both know they messed up there, old sport. How else would I be speaking to you?

There’s something much bigger happening in the City. The government seems to not be the only major force here. Thalia… of all people… Does she know what she’s doing…? Is she in danger…?

There’s only one way to find out, I suppose. I have 50 rejected letters, each holding illegible writing… Just a puzzle yet to be solved, no? There must be a message in here somewhere… And this letter is just the start.

What would you do for love, old sport?

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[…]

I’ve been staring at letters for so long, recently… I feel inspired to write my own.

No one better to write one to, than you, February.

I do it all the time, don’t I? Well…

It’s been a month since I spoke to you, February… It’s been so quiet.

It’s summer… Classes are out… But still, no one’s gone home. Not yet… Most importantly, you’re not home, February.

The City may be quiet for once, well, quieter than normal. It seems to be quiet everywhere but my brain.

Well, it’s hard to explain. It’s like my brain is screaming , all of the time… But at the same time, my mind says nothing at all.

It feels so empty up there. A lingering void with screams echoing off its invisible walls.

These feelings… They’re so unknown and so… Completely ineffable .

The only familiarity is you, February. I still know you… Even if it doesn’t feel like it these days.

But February… You are a thought that could never be absent. I can’t imagine a day I haven’t thought about you.

You are an everlasting star in the sky, whether you have exploded or not, you have never failed to impress me in everything that you do.

I begin to question, though February, if all my staring at the stars is blinding. I admire you, I always have, but has it all been a distraction, a smoke screen?

Has it all been an illusion? Is everything I know you to be a lie…? Or is it all something I made up in my head… My dumb, loud-quiet head.

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[…]

I did it… I think I did it, old sport…

I went through every single letter… Over, and over… Trying to find a link between the abandoned words on these papers.

It seemed that, no matter what I did, the words would never quite work out. Sentences would suddenly end, I would get so far just for no more letters to make sense… The grammar was never logically working in my favour.

Until… The most obvious thing, old sport, I can’t believe I didn’t think of it sooner.

You have to layer them… Of course, you have to layer them!

Starting with the first letter, “R, I want to stay. But they’re making me go, I’m so sorry. I love you… This isn’t right,” right from where this one ends, another letter continues, “Writing these letters,” another continues, “…just isn’t right.” You get the idea.

I’ve just finished putting them together… I haven’t read it yet, I thought we should do this together, old sport.

Here we go…

“R, I want to stay. But they’re making me go, I’m so sorry. I love you… This isn’t right.

Writing these letters… just isn’t right.

I hope you figure out this code.

Sorry for the complexities.

This group… They’re just like the government, this undercover group that monitors the City. But they do a much better job…

They’re stronger… More powerful…

They exist beyond the government’s power, without their knowledge.

I did one small favour for them… one . But they never take the risk of word getting out about them.

It’s why I must leave.

They’re recruiting me, and I have to take the job.

It will be good for me, but I only wish you could come. But I have to protect you.

You cannot let them know that you know. They will come for you.

But especially be careful with that radio of yours, Radio… They could be listening.”

Shit - [Radio static].

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

I am doing well, thank you for asking. In fact, I have been searching for a new favourite hiding spot, actually.

The last one ended up being infiltrated by a group of youngsters, and suddenly there were too many people there who could mess with my things.

Hell, once, some teen actually took one of my things! Those menacing kids… The only person I truly trusted in my hideout was Thalia. I don’t think about her much these days.

On another note, I can’t wait to try out this new hiding spot, although it is a big risk , as you never know when them kids could show up. It seems they end up finding all of my good hiding spots! I would hate to have to be an adult and kick them out.

I want to have a good spot for my set-up, one that allows me to talk on this radio to anyone who may be listening, like you , dear listener, directly . Especially so without this bad, busy background noise. I do apologise for my microphone, it seems to have been bugging out recently.

I do miss talking to you, old sport. I am always wishing back the old days. But , instead, I must not dwell on the past. Instead, I need to keep looking towards the future.

People say a lot of things about the future and its memories. That they’re scary… Unknown… Even dangerous. But that mustn’t stop you from dreaming and fulfilling those dreams. They could come true, you know?

You must be true to yourself, old sport. Keep on shining.

And, always, keep on listening.

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

In times like these, I can’t help but want to only talk to you, February.

I’ve… being doing a lot , recently. I can’t even talk to you about it.

I would love to tell you all about it… I would want that more than anything in the world.

But I just… can’t. Not as though you would hear me anyway, would you?

But there truly is something so liberating about talking to you, February.

My voice is merely confined to this radio, but when I speak to you, I feel as though I am screaming at the sky.

Even if you don’t hear me, I feel like we know each other so well. You can recognise me; know what I’m thinking, never mind how near or far you are.

I wish I knew what you were thinking.

I wish I could live one day, one single day, in your shoes, February.

Maybe then I could truly understand your perspective. Maybe then I’ll know why I haven’t seen you in so long.

I’ve never blamed you for it. And I never will.

Should I be angry? Should I be mad?

I’m not. How could I be angry at you…? When I love you, when I’m so proud of you. And I’m happy for you.

I’ve learned a lot recently. And that has especially taught me that you may never truly know the bigger picture of someone’s circumstances.

I doubted it for so long, but I know, February, that you are still out there. I’ll never be sure where… But I’ll keep looking up towards the sky for you.

Whether you truly are up there, in the City’s sky, sparkling as a star, or anywhere else in this universe, I know that you are shining, no matter where you are. I know you are always trying your best. And that is all that we can do, is it not?

That’s what we’re all trying to do. Our best. I’m trying my best. I really, really am. And I really… really , have to get back to work.

I’m proud of what I’m doing here, February. I can only hope you are proud of me too.

♪ There’s nothing left for us anymore

Why aren’t you listening?

Why aren’t you listening to me?

There’s nothing left. ♪

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[…]

I’m back, old sport. I am so, so back.

Lovely to speak with you again. And lovely, so, so lovely to speak freely again! I’m closer to finding Thalia, old sport, I can feel it. I know it.

This group… I still don’t know who they are, not yet, but I know they’re not listening.

I know they’re not listening because I checked . Something I haven’t done in a long time.

When I first found myself in the city, I checked the radio every day. Sometimes multiple times a day. Cycling through the different frequencies waiting to hear something … Someone.

No matter how many times I tried, during all different times of the day… No one was on the other side of the static.

After weeks, maybe months, actually, of checking the radio daily, even hourly, sometimes, I declared no other voices were occupying the radio. There was only me.

Recently, something pushed me to check again. And I decided to listen.

I cycled through the frequencies just as I used to. And suddenly, a few minutes in, the static quiets and begins to fade into faint beeping…

A dash… Four dots… A dot… I scrambled to grab a pen and paper to write it all down. It didn’t take me long to realise this wasn’t just a coincidence. I recognised it immediately when I read the final message.

“They’re not listening, old sport.”

Old sport …  And even after I told her that was my thing…

This was Thalia. I knew... Immediately… It was her.

However, in that moment, I thought that meant she had come back. So I ran straight over to her place, even though I checked it not long ago. I knew her stuff was gone. But for some reason, I thought, even for a second, that maybe, just maybe, she was back.

She wasn’t.

Instead… there was even more absence than last time. That broken radio… The one Thalia created herself, in a promise that she would speak to me…

It wasn’t there anymore. It wasn’t where she left it.

She came back… And she didn’t tell me.

I want to scream about this. I want to be mad at her. But I’m not. Because I know now, I understand. She’s protecting me.

Despite it all, she came back for a device she had made. She came back to give herself the opportunity to warn me, or even help me. She possibly risked her life to send me information… To reassure me it was okay. To tell me it was safe.

I only wonder what they use instead… If not the radio, then they must have a form of closer communication… Walkie talkies, perhaps? If so, they must be able to reach within the limits of where they are located…

But… where is that…?

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

Thalia has been helping me, so much.

Ever since she took back the radio she created, she has been camping this one frequency, sending daily messages in Morse code to tell me more about this group.

I can tell she’s still not giving up all there is to know, though. And while I want to be mad about it, I’m beginning to understand why, as she tells me more and more.

Firstly, the group seems to be a secret agency. They recruit people in the City who seem to know too much about what’s going on around here; essentially, everyone who is out of the ordinary.

People like me. And Thalia. And my contacts.

It’s nice to know I was never truly ghosted by any of my previous contacts, as I once thought. ‘Ghosted’, in Universe City terms, to be exact. Meaning that they were haunted, stalked by the government or mauled to death by cyborgs.

They may have just been recruited.

Thalia has not hesitated to tell me the dangers of knowing more. She’s protecting me from them. She knows they would recruit me as soon as they found out about me.

But, luckily, they haven’t explored radio frequencies. Not many people in the City have access to radios, they’re an outdated technology around here.

Hence, why the government doesn’t care to monitor them either.

Thalia did tell me one crucial thing, however.

The agency is located on something I call, ‘The Edge’.

The City doesn’t have an ‘edge’, per se, but this a place you cannot escape from. Therefore, it must have some kind of enclosing walls, wouldn’t you say?

Every street eventually leads back into the heart of the City. There is truly no way out of here, trust me, I’ve tried. For so long, I have tried.

The agency sits on the outskirts of the City, at the City’s furthest away points to its centre. This is everywhere and nowhere.

I don’t know exactly where they are. Which means I still don’t know where Thalia is. She won’t tell me more specific instructions. She knows I will try to find her.

I must be careful. I have to tread lightly. There is no denying that I am in danger.

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

Never before have I been so glad to have learned Morse code before meeting Thalia.

We did discuss, once, so long ago, about our shared skill in Morse code… And other codes we both seemed to know. We talked to each other in Pig Latin for the next hour. I told her all about K and his code. All of which I still have memorised.

Thalia cannot talk for long, though. The messages rarely consist of full sentences. Recently, she sent one word. “Fingerprints”.

I’ve been trying to figure out what she means. Does the agency use fingerprint technology to get into their hideout? So that I, and other non-recruits cannot enter? But… Technology like that, in the City, has been around for decades… Centuries, even. They ought to know that people have been able to hack those locks long ago.

Oh… Oh… But, of course! Our fingerprints…!

We leave fingerprints… Everywhere! People leave fingerprints on doors to buildings they’re not supposed to enter - of which there are many. I know this, because I must have been in all these buildings the City has to offer.

But I’ve never been caught… Oh, my gloves… My gloves !

Who knew… This whole time… My gloves have been more than just my style and this costume that I wear to… To… Hm. I’m not actually sure. But boy, have they come in handy.

[...]

I realise as I speak to you, dear listener, that you may not know what I speak of when I discuss the ongoings of the City. I never truly know the limits of this radio. With no one else using these frequencies, who's to say it is merely restricted to the City?

If you are listening from outside, oh, you must understand what it is like here.

It is true, that nothing in the City is what it seems.

Buildings, here, can be separated into three different types. The first are the obvious ones - the lecture halls, the cafes, the restaurants. Buildings that the government intends you to enter.

The second, the uninhabited buildings. They stand in the City purely to allow the landscape to look more crowded, closer to the true picture of a ‘city’. No matter what, you cannot enter these buildings.

And third, the extinct buildings. These were places which used to serve use to the people in the City. The government no longer found a use for them and shut them down. Yet, they remain open. Yet, these are forbidden to be entered.

The streets of the City itself, as I often say, are stalked by horrors. The common sight of a cyborg is not new to the citizens of Universe City. Whether that be the cyborgs that wish to eat you or the ones that seem to walk about like everyone else, with no murderous intent. I’m not sure if they know they are cyborgs.

I’m not sure if I’m not a cyborg. Why else would I wear all this stuff? My suit… My gloves… To protect myself I suppose. But is this who I am…?

Have you ever felt there is more to who you are, old sport? But you just can’t… Find it…?

I’m a Russian doll of needing to escape. I, myself, am stuck in Universe City. But there’s more of me wishing to get out. I just have to figure out who they are.

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[…]

I’m worried, old sport. I’m worried about Thalia.

I haven’t heard from her for days… The radio static has never felt so quiet.

She used to send me messages daily. Even multiple times in a day, sometimes. For her to suddenly go quiet just isn’t like her.

Did the agency find her radio? If they found her radio… Are they listening…?

Why else would she be so quiet…

[...]

I’m in a new location tonight, old sport.

I’ve been staying on the Edge of the City… Looking for signs… For people… For Thalia.

She told me not to look for her. I know, but I couldn’t stand staying back in my usual hideout knowing her contact was cut from me.

I needed to know what happened…

[Sudden sounds of lights flickering] Huh?

This City… Honestly… The government is barely taking care of its own electroni… Oh?

This light… It’s flickering across the street… But it’s not just flickering it’s… It’s a pattern… It’s repeating in some sort of rhythm…?

Hold on, let me grab some paper.

[Muttering] On, off. On… Off. On, off.

[...]

Okay. I think I have it. It’s Morse code…! It’s clearly Morse code. I just have to translate it. Let’s see…

R… A… D, I… O…? Radio.

What…? Who…? Is this… Thalia? Is she trying to tell me something about her radio…? Or is she calling me for help…

Or is it the agency… Do they know about me…? Are they listening…?

[LOUD CRASH]

What the-

[Static]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

I do apologise for that… Abrupt ending last time, old sport.

One of the cities’ brainless cyborgs somehow learned to open a door and was crashing through the hallway, making an absolute mess.

All dealt with…! Eventually.

And what awful timing also, with the discovery of that light!

Oh, old sport, you didn’t worry about me, did you? It's unfortunate that I never had another moment until now to talk to you again.

This light… It flickered with a new message with me every hour. I’ve been awake all this time - even though I rarely ever do sleep in the City in the first place - noting down all the different words, clearly dedicated to me.

It didn’t take long for me to confirm who was sending these messages.

After the ominous ‘RADIO’ message, I noticed that the light began to flash differently, and began to note down its new information. This time, the lights flashed, ‘BROKEN’.

I knew then that it must be Thalia. All this time, she was just telling me that her radio broke. I presume she does not have any tools to be able to fix it.

I wonder how she can control this… Single light? How did she know I was here? This isn’t my usual spot…

Who am I kidding? She probably knows the City more than I do. And she’ll know I’m looking for her… This building is the only one you can enter around here… God, she’s good!

[…]

So, after all these messages of Thalia telling me everything she could about the agency, hour after hour, I deduced three things.

One, the agency is always looking to recruit. That I should always be careful. I never take these gloves off nevertheless, but I sure wasn’t going to begin to now.

Two, the agency claims to be on our side. The conscious side. The side of the ‘aware ones’, in the City, if you will. They aren’t on our side. We only wish to be free of the City. They wish to revolutionise the City. To overthrow the government.

We can agree that the government are awful. It doesn’t take a genius to see that. But to have a more powerful and more aware agency control the City… There’s no way I could continue to escape from them. And if I work for them… I’m here to stay. As long as they can help it.

And Thalia…? She’s… Here to stay. She’s fighting from the inside. She says it’s the only way to truly combat them. It’s why she was always disappearing, sneaking into their hideouts, trying to find as much information as they could. But eventually, they caught up to her.

The last message continues to flash through the light. It has been doing so for the past day. Clearly, there is no more to be said.

The light flashes. ‘I’, pause, ‘W’, ‘I’, ‘L’, ‘L,’, pause, ‘B’, ‘E’, pause, ‘O’, ‘K’, ‘A’, ‘Y’.

She’ll be okay… I think I’m starting to believe her, old sport.

I think it’s about time I leave her to be a hero.

.. / .-.. --- ...- . / -.-- --- ..- --..-- / .... . .-. --- .-.-.-

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

Might be surprising to you, old sport, that I indeed can still lose my sanity in the City. Even after being here for so long, I feel myself slipping further away from who I once was more and more, day by day.

I’ve been feeling deflated since losing Thalia. Almost sounds like she’s dead… God, I hope she’s not dead.

She was truly my one good asset in this City. Who am I kidding? She was everything more than just an asset to me. Not my contact, not my sidekick, not my friend. She was my person… And now, she’s gone, and I have to understand that eventually… Right…? When will that finally compute in my head, old sport?

[…]

Searching for contacts is no use here any more. I cut off so many of my contacts because I had K… And then after K, I had Thalia. I taught her everything I knew, and she did the same for me. I can do so much for myself but there are still things… Just small things that only she had the power to do.

Her brain was… Is such a beautiful concept to comprehend. Hell- You heard the lights, the- the way she managed to get messages to me even when she didn’t have all of her equipment with her.

Who… Who else could be like her…? How am I supposed to replace that… All that we had, I must trade it all away so that I could have someone to fill in for her brain. So I can still have all of the information she gave me on the City. On the agency… Is there anyone like her?

[…]

I haven’t been outside in a while. I haven’t been able to go back to my old setup. I’ve just been here, staring, at this light with Thalia’s final message. It’s beginning to taunt me, beginning to shout at me, reminding me over and over that she will be okay and to just leave it be.

But I’m stuck. My feet are glued to this floor, unless God forbid another cyborg walks down these halls.

I can’t do it all for myself. I can’t continue to do K’s night patrolling and attempt to add Thalia’s coding and engineering skills on top of that.

It’s never easy to find a second in the City, old sport.

I can’t put up posters, hand out fliers… I can’t preach on the City’s streets about all I wish to preach about. If the government doesn’t catch me fast enough, the agency will.

And damn it, I can’t stay in hiding anymore. I have to go back. I can’t stand being here anymore.

Thalia, darling, if you’re listening.

I will be okay.

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

The search for new contacts is beginning to feel hopeless…

No one wants to talk to me. I try and discreetly tell people about my work.

Hopefully, with many of the people here, they give away their useless thinking by saying the prompted government propaganda response to anything I propose.

I get through a whole crowd… And they’re all useless.

There are so many people in the City, old sport, yet I can’t find even one to help me out just as Thalia did.

There are so many people in the City… Yet, I’ve never gotten to bump into you, February.

[...]

Do you remember when we were both drowning in the fire, February?

I tell you all the time that you are much braver than me

But this time, this one time, you just looked so worried.

I could see it in your face. It was so dark… But I could see it in your face.

I was only thinking about you. Not anyone else. The crowd burnt to dust around us, the sound faded from rhythm to static.

I wanted us to leave together. I couldn’t think about anything other than if you were okay.

We were both in the same situation, yet I asked how you were the whole time.

Are you too warm? Are you okay? Are you sure?

Are you, February…?

[…]

We were in the fire, burning together. I saw your face, and I said no.

I am so sorry. I think about it all of the time.

I think about how scared you looked. I think about how uncomfortable you were.

I think about how it was all my fault.

We were there because of me. I brought you to the scene and I showed you its sparks, and now we were burning there together.

It feels so ridiculous now.

I could never imagine allowing you to be upset in my presence, February… What did I do…? How could… I…?

Perhaps next time, I shall find myself in the fire alone. It seems likely now that you’re gone, February.

Without your presence, I will make it up to you. I will live to suffer just as you did.

I hope you can forgive me.

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

This is a distress call from Universe City… Old sport, the City is as cruel as ever.

With Thalia truly gone, I believe things have only gotten worse around here.

It may just be a coincidence, I suppose, but sometimes, I really do believe this City is testing me.

As for your weekly update, cyborgs are becoming old news. Their population has significantly decreased over time, as the government now states they are ‘so last season’. Instead, you should start preparing to fight your worst fears.

Monsters are taking the form of popular phobias – whatever is hot that week! Do not be concerned at the sighting of more pools of dark fog clouding your home, or sudden steep drops to tremble your knees. Note that they will consume you.

You may also note, dear listener, if you are a resident of Universe City, that the volume of screaming has increased. The government advises you to not talk about it.

[...]

It’s becoming harder to fight back these days, old sport. Not only are the monsters in the City becoming stronger, but my desire and want to fight just isn’t as strong anymore.

I only wish to explore. I wish to make discoveries here that someone is yet to find.

But with exploring comes fighting monsters. And the government. And now the agency.

I wish I could go back to the time I was exploring new buildings and rooftops daily, without care. Without worrying about this stupid agency, without worrying I’d get caught.

But it doesn’t work like that, does it? The agency was still around when I first started to explore the City. I just didn’t know it yet.

I didn’t know of the danger that exploring could have cost me back then. The biggest of my worries was the monsters, which took me significantly less effort to defeat back then than it does now.

The same level of danger still exists in the City and always has. I was just too young to know it all yet.

It’s funny how you think you know everything at such a young age, old sport. But I suppose it’s true that you will never truly know it all… If only the City had access to time travel. Maybe one of these days, that will be my next update.

[...]

The buildings I wish to explore have been mapped out in my hideout for so long. But now, with the knowledge I have of the agency, it’s hard to imagine that these buildings are truly as wrecked and abandoned as they seem.

If I were to accidentally come across a hideout of theirs, it would be over for me. I’d have to be recruited… By their standards.

It no longer feels safe to be ‘free’ in the City anymore.

The government was never a threat to freedom, never on this scale. The agency has thrown any ideas of freedom in a cell, and thrown the key off of one of those sudden, steep drops.

If I can no longer truly explore the City, is there even a possibility of finding a way out?

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[…]

I have done a lot of thinking, recently. Really, I’ve been thinking about why Universe City is called ‘Universe’ City when it’s not exactly as vast.

The universe is supposed to be infinite, is it not? The City tries to be infinite but it’s all just one big finite loop. You start in one place, you end up there once again one way or another.

But it’s funny, that people refer to the universe to mean so many things to them.

The universe is said to show people signs, to align circumstances and to create fate. It is the uncaused creator of itself – how could it not have the power to control the lives of its residents?

People believe the universe is in control of almost anything humans cannot explain.

The stars will move as according to the universe, and now an October baby is indecisive but caring, and will receive important news today.

The moon speaks many words without a mouth. Humans are compatible if they share similar moon phases on the date of birth. Some even spout words of ‘soulmates’. It is all said to be destined in the universe.

I started to believe all this, old sport, that perhaps I was put here for a reason. In the City named after the infinite universe, I was destined by the stars to be stuck here, infinitely.

I started to believe that if anyone had answers to why I was here, well, it must be the universe itself.

As I started to believe, omens began to show themselves. Coincidences would line up, and instead of choosing a culprit, I began putting them together. I called them signs. I started questioning how they got here in the first place. What led them to occur?

I found myself asking the most important question. How does it connect to Thalia…?

There were so many coincidences in how we met. Same place, same time. The hair dye. The crowds. And despite everything, her job . Something so opposite to me, yet it allowed me to find her in the end.

But then there was the agency.

So much between me and Thalia were connected. We both cared so deeply for the stars. We remember how they looked the first day we arrived in the City. We think they were the same.

But what does it all mean now…? Now that she’s gone? These signs were just red herrings with no true ending for me to discover.

I started to believe that perhaps we only read into the universe when we need to. You see what you want to see, not ever truly what the universe sees for you.

You can scream out to the universe for an answer and hear a reply, but so often is it just the echo of your own voice.

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[…]

What more could I talk to you about, old sport…?

…I can almost feel myself running out of conversation topics.

How long have we been doing this, old sport? And here I am… Twiddling my thumbs at the start of a long night, and a long call.

Have you been up to anything rece- Oh, who am I kidding? Why do I even ask?

…I miss her, old sport. I miss Thalia.

I miss her in ways that I spite her for, like how you miss the snow in the summer, and the sun in the winter. In winter, you wish you did more in the summer, now that you can no longer feel your feet. In summer, you wish you didn’t sulk as much in the winter and instead soaked in the cosy, festive atmosphere.

I feel as though I shall live unsatisfied, for evermore.

I find myself questioning the sky. I ask it, “Was it her? Was she truly the one?”, and the stars blink back at me in silence.

Maybe I was wrong. I’m looking for signs, I’ve been looking for signs. There’s nothing. There’s not even a fragment of a sign that I could manufacture into a whole one. I’ll take anything! Anything to tell myself that I’m right.

Someone like her doesn’t just mean nothing. She doesn’t just get to go like that… That’s not how the story should end… Right? It makes no sense, if she wasn’t the one, there should’ve been someone else! There should be somebody else. 

How could I have been wrong about this…? About her ? But… But who else could there be…? Who else…?

[…]

The City has far but slowed down. My night patrols have now been rendered useless, from the amount of traffic now filling the streets. There is too much happening for me to patrol.

So, instead, I sit at the edge of each rooftop I find myself on and dangle my legs. They act like bait for the many different monsters in the City. I find comic relief in their foolish attempts to capture me.

However, as per the updates, the increased volume of screaming has reached an all-time high. On that note, I apologise for any background noise you may be hearing over the radio, old sport.

Sinkholes have now begun to open up whenever they’re hungry, or upset. The government decided to combat these by placing caution signs around them. They have yet to understand that these continue to be swallowed by the sinkholes.

I apologise if you’re bored, old sport. I really wish you not to be. But does wishing ever really get us that far in life…?

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[…]

Not much time to talk, old sport. We have a pretty big problem on our hands.

Do you remember the sinkholes I mentioned? In my last call? 

Well, they’re not showing any signs of stopping.

The government isn’t doing anything, in fact, I think they just announced an election to avoid addressing it…?

On the other hand, I can’t tell if the agency was attempting to combat the sinkholes, but I think they were successfully distracted by the election, considering their goal to overthrow the government, and all.

So, who does that leave to deal with it then…? Take a guess!

[…]

I mentioned how I haven’t truly the ‘heroic’ self that I used to be in a while. I thought what I used to do wasn’t that big of a deal.

Until I stopped.

Suddenly my impact on the City had never been clearer. Ever since I stopped fighting, the monsters have evolved and adapted to their environment even further than before.

I thought I must be much too out of practice to fight these newly upgraded monsters. So, to train, if you will, I sought out as many cyborgs as I could find. I halved their population in one night.

Y’know, as a warm-up, of course.

[...]

It was essential for me to upgrade my current setup.

In fact, I visited Nightcrawler’s place, as it has since been abandoned. I could tell he was recruited when that telephone box no longer rang every night anymore. It stopped about a month ago.

I stole… Borrowed his monitors, and found the notes he made when he discovered how to gain access to the CCTV footage. It’s only a temporary setup, of course, just until he comes back. Although, personally, I’m not counting on it (nor hoping it, either. I just hope Thalia doesn’t have to deal with him…)

Finally, with this equipment, I could conduct night patrols just as he did… But better.

[...]

So many of the cameras seem to have already lost connection due to being swallowed by a sinkhole.

Luckily, none of them are near my current location. But, at the speed they are growing, I ought to keep an eye out my own window.

There are two main sinkholes. Sinkholes A and B, if you will. They are on two completely different sides of the City. Conveniently, these are perfectly placed away from the government’s residence, where I believe the agency is based.

However, there are smaller sinkholes, ones which are just beginning; C, D, and E. Sinkholes C and D occupy two different corners of the City centre. They are small in size currently, however, they are rapidly expanding.

Sinkhole E has not yet formed. I formally investigated the City’s busiest areas in concern for the clueless residents who continue to live their daily lives in the City. Many of which have already fallen down sinkholes C and D.

I noticed cracks in the concrete of the City’s most infamous street. I thought back to the many times I had been here before, thinking it may just be the rampant crowds of the City leaving their mark.

But no, these were new. If this sinkhole began to form it would result in hundreds, possibly thousands of casualties.

I truly have no idea what would be causing these sinkholes.

But I know that the only one who can fight this is me.

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

Not much time to talk old sport, but you get the jist of these calls by now.

I must tell you what I have been up to. Most importantly, the information I have found about these sinkholes.

During my recent night patrols, instead of overlooking the entire city, updating the movements on each street, as Nightcrawler once did, I was only ever looking at these sinkholes.

The sizes of the sinkholes never increased during the day. If these were naturally occurring, what is the likeliness of all 5 sinkholes remaining the same in appearance during the day, without growing at all? Surely, particularly with all of the movement the City experiences during the day, these would expand?

I asked myself these questions over and over. Something wasn’t adding up.

I thought the sinkholes were a new horror of the City. I thought this was something I would have to mend myself. Work during the night to patch them up and stop the hopeless City residents from falling in.

It was the only fix I could think of. Because, well, how do you fix a natural disaster…? You don’t. It’s just another thing the gracious creator of this universe gifted to us. Disaster.

They don’t work on a schedule. Even the gift of an almighty creator does not wait until everyone has evacuated.

Nothing about the City is particularly ‘natural’ in the first place, I suppose. But something… Or someone… Had to be behind this.

So, I’ve been watching. Every night, I watch these sinkholes as I wait for them to make their move.

The issue with watching CCTV camera footage of them, however, is how easy it truly is to hack into them.

Moments before each sinkhole grows, the camera footage glitches and freezes, for approximately 3-5 seconds at a time. By the time it blinks back to life, the sinkhole has expanded, and no one is in sight.

But recently, they messed up.

I was watching the cameras fixed on sinkhole C, one of the smaller ones located in the City’s busy centre, when it warped once again, freezing and glitching, so I knew it was time.

When the camera blinked back on, I quickly scrambled to pause the footage.

In the corner of the frame, a black, hooded figure was walking away. They seemed to have some sort of tool in hand, a shovel or a hammer, perhaps, to create the new damage to the sinkhole.

But as I squinted at the screen, I realised there was something more. Some sort of symbol, resembling a logo resided on the mysterious figure’s back.

At that moment, I sat back in shock, and in my quick movements, I accidentally pressed the play button.

I jumped once again as the hooded figure, once thought to be moving out of frame, stopped, and turned its head right towards the camera.

A shadow was cast over the figure’s face, I could not tell if they were wearing a mask to conceal their identity, or if the shadows were one with them.

As they met my gaze through the camera, the footage then cut to black… There was no possible way for me to gain access to the footage anymore – the camera had been broken.

The only way for me to learn more was to see it for myself.

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[…]

This is something possibly beyond my willpower.

It’s the first time in… a long, long time I have done something this… significant and… Hard .

It’s hard. And I’m struggling. I can admit that… I don’t know how I’m going to do this by myself, old sport.

It’s not my first ever time doing something as hard as this… I guess. But with the rapid increase of danger in the City, it feels like it.

It’s not often that I feel the pressures of the City weighing on me anymore.

I suppose I did once say that is is impossible to survive in the City alone.

But, old sport, I’m going to have to try.

[…]

It’s been hard to navigate being scared since you left, February.

You were my compass; my way home, always.

It feels so long ago now when I was last comforted by you. Guided by you.

Comforted solely by thoughts only goes so far. My imagination really is only so vast in the City. Sometimes it feels like the City may not monitor the radio, but it’s in my head, my ears, my thoughts, my dreams, my shoes. I cannot live in a fantasy with you, February, without the City barging through, reminding me of my reality.

The reality of the cold, vast, alone City.

How can I truly brave this world when it is only when you are near me that I am not afraid?

I can recall so little of time before the City.

Yet, I remember so much of my time spent with you.

You comforted me through the dark. Like when I shivered under the covers as the shadows took over.

You were there too, you were always there.

[Chuckles lightly] We were both barely hanging on. We felt so big trying to share the space, but truly… Looking back, we were so little back then.

We bickered about the cold every so often, yet, we were peaceful.

I knew I was safe because you were there.

Yet, I do not know where you are anymore, February. Do you still see me? Did you ever see me?

Or did the shadows take you away?

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

Okay, old sport, I may have done something a little crazy. I have a lot to catch you up on.

It might sound ridiculous… To you, maybe… But I put a piece of paper with the symbol from the camera footage on Thalia’s desk, with a note signed by me, asking if she recognised it at all.

Hear me out.

I know that… she does come back sometimes , as she did when she once took her radio with her before.

For some reason, the agency allows her to visit her own set-up. Perhaps only if it helps them? Unsure. But she must be monitored to some level, as under no circumstances can she see me.

She’s protecting me, still. After all this time.

Nevertheless, I left the paper there in hopes she’d return. Until then, I am once again stationed across from that old building. The one with the flickering light.

It’s still flickering with Thalia’s last message.

At least this means I haven’t missed out on any information from her. I believe I did what she wanted me to do… Move on.

And while you could argue over my progress on that… I’ve certainly found myself a distraction.

A sinkhole C size of distraction, to be exact.

If you remember from my recent call, old sport, I was monitoring sinkhole C until the camera was broken by a man with a mysterious symbol on his back – the same one I am waiting for Thalia to get back to me on.

As soon as the camera cut to black, I grabbed my old, trusty lunar bike and rode as fast as I could. I decided that I should go see the expansion of sinkhole C with my own eyes… And oh, old sport, had it expanded.

In general, the sinkholes have continued to grow at an unprecedented rate. Yet, it is still unusually slow for a ‘naturally occurring sinkhole’. So often do you just see these things fall into themselves, at a speed where no one can run fast enough from it.

Yet, with sinkhole C proved to be unnatural, it had almost doubled in size that night by the time I had reached it. No one was around.

Before I even had a chance to wonder how on earth that could have been possible for one person, I realised quickly that sinkhole C had increased approximately to the same size as sinkholes A and B. As unconcerned as I am about sinkholes A and B, the difference here was that I was currently standing in the City’s busy centre.

The zombie-esque citizens of Universe City basically already had ‘death by sinkholes’ on their obituaries before the sun had even come up.

For the rest of the night, I scrambled to create a barrier around the sinkhole. If it stopped even two of these people from falling in, it was a job well done.

What I can’t help but question is this. Why would someone like our mystery cloak guy want these sinkholes in the City…? If it’s to fight against monsters, I fear they’re only feeding them.

But perhaps that’s the intention. A humanoid figure in that footage… Yet… The plans of a monster.

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[…]

It had been too long…

The flickering of Thalia’s last message never stopped or changed in its constant, taunting loop.

I just started to find it hard to believe that she hadn’t yet returned to her hideout.

So, I went to see for myself.

The place was as empty as it normally was. The bin was still tipped over from the time I discovered the letters she had written me, her desk still wiped of any of her things.

But the image of the symbol that I had left… It remained front and centre, sitting alone on the desk.

I grabbed her desk chair, still dramatically halfway across the room from her desk as it was the day she left, and sat down defeatedly.

Had she really not returned in all of this time…? I questioned whether or not she was well and truly gone, that perhaps the agency had finally captured her.

It is easy to believe, with all of the sinkholes causing chaos in the city, if it's not the agency behind them, they would probably be all hands on deck.

Well, it’s either that or the whole election… Thing. The agency seems to be convinced that they could win it. Too bad the government never taught anyone how to actually register to vote (or that you even had to in the first place…).

But I digress. I scooted Thalia’s chair back into its rightful spot at the desk and continued to stare at the picture that I left there for her to find.

Except… It’s not the same photo.

The photo I left was a scribbled drawing of what I saw in that camera footage. It was solely of that symbol on the clothing of the mystery person.

But this… This was a photo of the person themself. The one I caught staring right back at me, as the cameras turned back on, almost in accordance with their gaze.

I had stared at the figure for so many days after I first witnessed the footage. There was no telling what features they had… But this photo… I could see everything.

They still wore this cloak – the same one from the footage – with the same symbol and everything. Yet their face was exposed, albeit slightly covered by their layered hair, swooping down into place.

They looked so… Warm…? A smile was spread across their face as they looked back towards the camera.

I found it hard to believe that a villain – one to have opened up significant sinkholes in the City – could be such a cheerful person. Perhaps the symbol they wear is one of their cult. Or a society maybe. Perhaps it is just another underground group attempting to rule the City. Perhaps this is not our culprit. But yet, they still work for these people…

I looked back at the picture and tried to really look at them. Their eyes were covered in these super fashionable (at least, to the City’s standards) sunglasses, casting the reflection of the camera in the photographer’s hand.

The photographer who was smiling ear to ear, with faded, chin-length hair, and a beautiful dress down to their ankles…

Thalia .

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[…]

All Thalia left me was this photo.

Other than that, there was a single message on the back reading, “1508 Tomsby Street. Ask for Solus . Be careful . Thalia x.”

So I went. What other choice did I have? I had to find out who this person was… Who this ‘Solus’ was. And why they knew Thalia- Sorry, no, find out why they are creating these sinkholes . [Cough], anyways…

I made my way to Tomsby Street – notably the street with the telephone box I used to hide in. The same one I met Nightcrawler in, if you recall from so long ago, old sport.

1508 Tomsby Street was the basement of a building I had passed so many times. One of those desolate buildings the government urges you not to enter. I’ve explored so many of these buildings during my time in the City, particularly during my search for Thalia, but I never approached 1508 Tomsby Street.

I think the place was littered with zombies the day I came across it. I didn’t have the energy to fight them all at the time. My mind was elsewhere.

The basement door was one of steel, with one of those sliding peepholes. It was there a pair of eyes met my gaze before I had even a chance to knock. One eye green, the other hazel.

I waited for the figure to ask me for ‘the password’, as I presumed that’s how this usually went. However, I quickly realised that I didn’t have a password. All I had was a name.

I hurriedly told them I was looking for Solus. The eyes replied with a low hum, almost with a tone of curiosity. Suddenly, the door creaked open heavily, revealing a dimly lit hallway in its place.

As I entered, I went to thank the mysterious doorman until I noticed there was no one there. No evidence of where the figure went, just the empty space behind the door to show their absence.

The hallway was short, I must’ve taken less than ten steps until I was stood in this concrete room, with lights flickering menacingly in every corner. A desk was stationed in the centre, stocked with monitors on top of monitors and paper piles taller than the screens themselves.

Behind everything was a pin board, with red string frantically drawn across it, seemingly piecing together a mystery I couldn’t quite see.

Through the smallest gap in the computer screen, I saw a figure. I hesitantly asked the room, “Solus…?”

The person stood up, slowly, and carefully as I took notice of their appearance. Dark hair that swooped down across their face and rested perfectly behind their ears. Eyes which stared right back at me. One green and one hazel.

It was then that a smirk began to crawl across their face. They replied, grimacingly, “Who’s asking?”

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[…]

I am no longer staring at that taunting flashing light anymore, old sport. I’m back at my old place. I know what I needed to know now... almost.

Solus didn’t create the sinkholes… Let me explain.

As I stared back into those now familiar green and hazel eyes, I found myself having to do something I hadn’t done in a while in the City… Look tough .

It was a little pathetic, if I’m honest, old sport. I almost stuttered over my own name when introducing myself. Any confidence I managed to mutter up immediately vanishes as they reveal that they use an alias too… I never said Radio wasn’t my real name.

Before I could take in their comment, Solus asked me where I had heard about them. I hesitated for a second, deciding if it would be safe to discuss Thalia, but my curiosity was fueling me.

Fighting through my words, I asked how she knew them. Thalia. Solus, for the first time this whole conversation, averted my gaze. They almost looked nervous.

With great hesitation, Solus defeatedly reveals that Thalia and them were previously in a relationship.

I felt myself stiffen up as I didn’t know how to react. I chuckled nervously before quickly changing the subject. I could digest that fact later, I thought.

Instead, curiosity was exchanged for rage. I was angry for Thalia, I thought. Someone they had trusted intimately was doing these heinous acts in the City. Creating these sinkholes to destroy the innocent lives of those who live here.

I saw red. I shouted, accusing them of everything I knew about the sinkholes. The security camera footage. The symbol. The possible cult they had… Anything I theorised, I let them know I despised.

The first breath I take again is when Solus interrupts – they laugh. They laugh, and they laugh, and then tears are rolling down their face.

Still angry, I stared back in silence. I waited for the answer.

As they quiet, they admit to me that those are not their doing. Then they asked me if I had ever heard of the agency.

I once again freeze at the thought. I muttered a small, hesitant, ‘mhm’ in agreement.

Solus’ eyes immediately widen, as if they have realised something themselves. They match my volume suddenly, in worry, saying, ‘They got her, didn’t they?’

All I do is nod in response. They began to pace the room, muttering to themselves about warning Thalia, her not listening, knowing she wouldn’t listen… Suddenly, they pause and look straight back at me.

Solus began to tell me that is why they are hiding. The agency. That is why they hack into the cameras. All because of the agency. It is all to not be recruited… Again .

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[…]

Sorry, old sport, I don’t have much time to talk this evening.

Let’s see, uh, what is there to say…? Right, yes. Updates.

In Universe City… What is… Going… On, yes, yes, sorry. I’m here now.

Uh, so. Yes, sinkholes. Big. Expanding. A lot. Not Solus doing that! You- you knew that. Sorry. Yes.

Still don’t know how that’s all… Happening… I’m trying my best to figure out. No help from Solus, though. You’d think as an innocent you would want to help out but no…! Too busy still thinking about your ex, yeah, I’m sure, at least she got to be your ex-

Sorry. Sorry, I digress.

Yeah, that whole… Election thing is still happening. There’s a group of cyborgs running now…? I think their party is called Inc. Like, just the letters I, N, and C. I don’t think they understand that there’s usually a word or two before ‘incorporation’.

There are more posters and more people wearing badges in support of the cyborgs than the government, or the agency for that matter. Despite that, the current government has been projected to win by 95%. 

To me, there really is no point in it all. We know the government controls the vote entirely and this is the City. Since when has anything been fair here…?

What else is there to say…? The City has been its normal chaotic self, old sport. Just with a few more holes in it- What?

Sorry, old sport, something just… Came up- What is this…?

[Footsteps are heard walking away and then quickly back, paper rustles loudly]

“Radio… Same place… 1508… Tomorrow… Solus .”

How does… How do they know where I…? Ugh, never mind, sorry again, old sport.

I’ve been saying that a lot today, I know. There’s just too much going on recently… And now this…?

I need to take a break. Perhaps not a long one, but a break . That is if the stars are on my side.

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[…]

Receiving a letter under my door, I’ve learned during my time in the City, is usually bad news. As soon as I saw that letter from Solus, I knew something was wrong.

But for a while, and maybe still, in the back of my mind, I thought that any letter I received could have been a reply from you, February.

I suppose, in a way, I never gave up hope. There was a part of me who thought that… Even if you couldn’t hear my cries, you still remembered me. You could still reach out. If you wanted to. But, I suppose… not .

I can’t stop thinking about the final moments we spent together, February. Do you remember?

We talked and talked. But, at the same time, we said nothing at all. The words lingered in the air, dancing around the topic of ‘goodbye’ but we never actually said it, did we?

You could feel time slipping out of our grasp but none of us spoke a word of it.

If only I knew. If I knew, February, I would’ve held you tighter. I would’ve told you so much more. I would’ve said goodbye. So, why didn’t you…?

You asked me this one question, February… And… You knew I couldn’t answer it.

I thought that, if I talked about it, it would make it real. I didn’t want it to be, I never did. But you knew that.

I could feel the weight of the question, suffocating me in every word I spoke thereafter. I knew it was a test I was destined to fail. I didn’t care. I knew there wasn’t anything left I could have said to have made you stay.

Now that I look back, it was inevitable. I don’t blame you for asking the question, but you were looking for an answer that I could have never honestly given you. I hated that.

I hated… God, I hated that while I was holding onto our final moment together, you began to unravel it. We had so little time left, all I was trying to do was hold onto it, but you had so suddenly torn it from my grasp. I could’ve held you tighter. I could’ve told you so much more. I could’ve said goodbye.

But the moment was over. And, now you’re gone.

Nevertheless, time moves on, even when we’re worlds apart, now.

I never knew to say it before, so, I will say it now:

Goodbye, February.

♪ There’s nothing left for us anymore

Why aren’t you listening?

Why aren’t you listening to me?

There’s nothing left. ♪

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[…]

My meeting with Solus. It seemed they finally decided they wanted help with the sinkhole situation. I wasn’t going to deny the request. I needed help too. This was something bigger than the both of us alone, but, we thought, perhaps together, we could do this.

I made my way back to that same decrepit building, 1508 Tomsby Street.

On my route, I passed sinkhole C. It had expanded at least 3 times in size since I last saw it. There were “VOTE INC.” posters on every single cone, barrier, and plank that was attempting to ward people away. The posters had fine print which read, “or don’t, it’s okay either way.” It is clear they still have not truly understood the concept of a campaign.

When I finally reached the building, I knocked just as I did the time before, albeit with a little more confidence, if anything.

Instead of peering through the door, Solus returned my same confidence, opening the door wide, with another one of their smirks beginning to crawl across their face.

They hurried me into the room I had seen just the other day, yet, in such a short time, it felt like everything there had shifted.

Instead of Solus’ menacing set-up, papers were scattered across all four walls, seemingly with no coordination. Yet, each paper was vigorously connected by a red string, collected under different headings such as “GOVERNMENT”, “CITY”, and “AGENCY”.

I began to question Solus where this all was… They interrupted me with the simple answer of, “fake walls”.

As I took every bit of evidence in, I noticed the most empty part of the wall. The papers with the heading, “SINKHOLES”.

As I approached the wall, I realised Solus truly was on the same level as me. All there was to occupy the wall was the same CCTV footage I monitored of the sinkholes. I recognised them all immediately—Sinkholes A to E.

It was then I realised. In the corners of each image was; A, then B, then C… And that each sinkhole had been labelled precisely the same way I labelled them.

I laughed at the coincidence and turned to face Solus to tell them the news.

But they just looked back at me… With this cold expression that drove across their face.

Staring back at me, without even a slither of humour in their tone, Solus starts to say, “Oh… I wonder why that is… Old sport… ”

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[…]

[Laughing] You should have seen my face, old sport… Oh my… Solus really got me there.

I was so scared. I had led myself into their space, straight into the lion’s den. I started writing my will as soon as they said it… ‘Old sport’...

In that moment, I finally noticed what was on the desk. Among the stacks of papers and several monitors, behind it all was this small little device. It was then that I finally noticed the soft noise of static that lingered in the silence.

I was still too shocked to say anything. Instead, I just stared… Until Solus finally followed my gaze and laughed, picking up the device and fully extending its antenna. The static gets louder. All I could say was, “It’s a radio…”

Solus looked at me as if I was a child. People seem to do that a lot in the City. Perhaps that’s why I am always wearing a suit. Yet, it never helps anyone to finally take me seriously, does it…? Sorry, I digress, old sport.

Solus has a radio. That’s really what the meeting was all about. But instead of just simply telling me, they of course had to pull that stunt.

They said that they had the radio for a while. In fact, they also flipped through frequencies often. They said they couldn’t remember when they first heard me. But they’ve been listening ever since.

They didn’t realise who I was when I first went to confront them. It’s funny really, they said, they didn’t truly know until they heard me directly talking about them… Maybe this is a sign that I should be using codenames for everyone , not just myself… Hm… Maybe one day I’ll get on that - bigger cyborgs to fry, no?

That’s when they sent me the letter. They had decided to begin to look into the sinkholes because I inspired them to. They knew all that they knew and more because of my calls.

Perhaps, then, there are people listening. Perhaps I can finally create a team, maybe not of heroes, per se, but of people who care. People who know the ins and outs of the City; the truth behind its constricting walls.

Hell, I know we’re gonna need more people. And God can only help me if I have to work with Solus alone -

What…? What is it this time…? [Footsteps getting further away then closer again, paper rustles]

“Stop talking about me, Solu-” Okay, seriously, how did they get here so fast…?

[Sarcastically agitated] Solus, you know you’re only proving my point, right? I hope you can still hear me, you-

[Paper glides across a floor] …You’ve got to be kidding me.

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[…]

Is it weird that I still think about you all the time, February?

I suppose I haven’t been very good at hiding it, have I…?

But, despite everything going on in the City right now… Still, there is yet a day to go by where I haven’t thought of you.

When I first arrived in the City, everything reminded me of you.

I would see a simple streetlamp and start to remember our nightly performances. We were so young… The empty road was our stage with nothing but the houses of sleeping neighbours as our audience, we danced underneath the streetlamp like it was our own personal spotlight.

I would see a bright, yellow car and hit my own arm each time, now that yours was no longer there to pester. I stopped when I realised the City was one big loop. I don’t know how long ago that was now.

I’d look up at the sky and… Before I saw you up there, February, I just talked about you. I told the stars about you. And now it is where you reside.

Despite that… Despite not seeing you in everything anymore, February, instead, it’s as if you… You have infected my mind like a parasite and, some days, I can’t help but hate you for it.

I never wanted to hate you. I- I don’t hate you.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

Perhaps I will just pretend this is another symptom of a disease that must be killing me. It’s either myself or the City, February, my demise will have nothing to do with you.

In fact, if something does happen to me, February, no matter what - it was never because of a sinkhole. Never .

Do not let anyone think that I would-

[Paper slides across the room hitting Radio’s feet, Radio sighs]... Now…? [Paper rustles] Solus, this is my one time-

[Murmuring] “Who is February BTW? - Solu-”

Not- not right now. Solus. Not ever , actually… I need to put up some boundaries - for myself and these stupid sinkholes for that matter.

When will the City ever allow me a break…?

[...]

Chapter Text

Hel- pshhht … hope som- pshhht… is listeni- pshhht…

Old spo- psshht… signal migh- pssshht… bad. The sinkho- pssht… starti- psshht… eat up- pssshht… -ignal towers…There mig- pssshht … bad conne- psshhht… -ope you can hea- psshht…

-e’re running, righ- psshht… -orry I- psshht… out of bre- psshht… Me and Sol- psshht.. . We- we work- psshht … -ut, the sinkholes the- pssshht… -e whole time it’s ju- psshht…

-aking our way t- psshht… -ave to confront the- psshhht… -ave no choi-

[???]: Rad- psshht… -urry up, we don- pshhht… -uch time left.

[RADIO]: I kno- psshht… -ou think it’s important t- psshhht… -ocumented in some way? We mi- psshhht… -ake it out ali-

[Sirens begin blaring over their speech]

Je- psssht… What on earth? pshhht… -ince when did the Ci- psshht…

[???]: -adio! Up here! psshhht… -uick, you ne- psshht… -our radio behind.

[RADIO]: I can’t ju- psshht…

[???]: -EAVE IT.

[RADIO]: …I’ll see yo- psshhht… -ther side, old sport?

[Static…]

Chapter Text

.... . .-.. .-.. --- ..--..

[...]

- .... . / -.-. .. - -.-- / .. ... / -. --- - / .... --- .-- / .. - / ... . . -- ... .-.-.- / .. - / -. . ...- . .-. / .-- .- ... --..-- / -... ..- - / . ... .--. . -.-. .. .- .-.. .-.. -.-- / -. --- .-- .-.-.-

.. / -.. --- / .- .--. --- .-.. --- --. .. ... . .-.-.- / .. / -.. --- / -. --- - / .... .- ...- . / .- / -- .. -.-. .-. --- .--. .... --- -. . .-.-.- / -... ..- - / .. / -- ..- ... - / .--. ..- - / --- ..- - / - .... .. ... / -- . ... ... .- --. . .-.-.-

- .... . / .- --. . -. -.-. -.-- / ... - .. .-.. .-.. / ... - .- -. -.. ... / .-- .... .. .-.. . / - .... . / -.-. .. - -.-- / ..-. .- .-.. .-.. ... / .- .--. .- .-. - .-.-.-

.-. .- -.. .. --- / .. ... / --. --- .. -. --. / - --- / -.. --- / .. - / - .... --- ..- --. .... .-.-.- / .. / .... --- .--. . / ... --- .-.-.- / .. / -.- -. --- .-- / ... --- .-.-.-

- .... . -.-- .----. .-. . / ... - .-. --- -. --. . .-. / - .... .- -. / - .... . -- .-.-.- / - .... . -.-- .----. .-. . / ... - .-. --- -. --. . .-. / - .... .- -. / -- . .-.-.- / .. / .-- --- ..- .-.. -.. / .... .- ...- . / -. . ...- . .-. / ... . .- .-. -.-. .... . -.. / - .... . / -.-. .. - -.-- / ..-. --- .-. / -- . .-.-.- / .. / .-- --- ..- .-.. -.. / .... .- ...- . / -. . ...- . .-. / - .-. .. . -.. / - --- / ... .- ...- . / - .... . / -.-. .. - -.-- .-.-.-

.-. .- -.. .. --- --..-- / .. ..-. / -.-- --- ..- .----. .-. . / --- ..- - / - .... . .-. . --..-- / ... - .- -.-- / ... .- ..-. . .-.-.- / .. / .... --- .--. . / -.-- --- ..- / .- .-. . / .-.. .. ... - . -. .. -. --. .-.-.-

[Static]

----------------------------- TRANSLATION:

HELLO?

[...]

THE CITY IS NOT HOW IT SEEMS. IT NEVER WAS, BUT ESPECIALLY NOW.

I DO APOLOGISE. I DO NOT HAVE A MICROPHONE. BUT I MUST PUT OUT THIS MESSAGE.

THE AGENCY STILL STANDS WHILE THE CITY FALLS APART.

RADIO IS GOING TO DO IT THOUGH. I HOPE SO. I KNOW SO.

THEY'RE STRONGER THAN THEM. THEY'RE STRONGER THAN ME. I WOULD HAVE NEVER SEARCHED THE CITY FOR ME. I WOULD HAVE NEVER TRIED TO SAVE THE CITY.

RADIO, IF YOU'RE OUT THERE, STAY SAFE. I HOPE YOU ARE LISTENING.

[Static]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

Nice to speak to you again, old sport…

A lot has happened in the City since we last spoke. I do apologise for my recent silence. Although it is in my name, I would never leave you like that on purpose. Sorry if the radio frequency felt lonelier and quieter in my absence.

Enough apologies, I will get right to the point.

The sinkholes were caused by tunnels under the City, they were unstable, and were caving in uncontrollably - or, so I first thought.

Both Solus and I had observed the sinkholes for weeks now - months , even. We both knew they weren’t random. We both knew they were much more controlled than it seemed.

We had been observing a sinkhole, one night, when we suddenly saw a light emerge from one. It was only then we saw the clear, misshapen tunnel which cut right through, sagging under the weight of the City. At the other end of the light was a troll - hundreds of them, in fact, all living under the City, unbeknownst to any of us. They were quick to tell us everything as soon as we entered the tunnel.

The cyborgs.

Putting up an innocent display throughout the election, which perfectly cropped up when the governors were trying to bring citizens’ attention to anything other than the sinkholes.

The cyborgs were trying to do the same thing.

Solus and I were quick to head over to the cyborg campaign office - that was when I last spoke to you, old sport, between the time in the tunnels to when we reached the cyborgs, they had already commenced their main plan.

Their office had no signs of campaign ideas and planners, only maps of the City’s sinkholes, and how they had plans for more sinkholes elsewhere.

We were quick to get rid of the few cyborgs that remained in the office. Though I don’t doubt there will be more - we are always fighting.

Their walls of plans revealed everything. They were attempting to target the signal towers by creating a deal with the underground trolls to weaken their tunnels to create sinkholes to swallow them.

They were far from any towers, until recently. They realised the trolls could not understand the directions the cyborgs were telling them. So, they raised the deal and told them to begin collapsing everything they could.

They got a few central signal towers, hence, the unsteady radio signal from my last call.

The City’s outskirts, however, were untouched, apart from some inhabited buildings which went from 6 floors high to 1.

With the cyborgs disqualified from the race, the election was called off via the City’s tannoy system. The governors knew that it was the perfect excuse. They knew they had competitors in the agency, they just didn’t know who they were yet. They continue to not.

No one truly knows where the governors stand. Perhaps it is due to the signal being cut off within their HQ, so they weren’t projecting the same propaganda on all the screens in the City as usual. Not that I think they would finally address the sinkholes. Over the tannoy, they called the election off due to, “current ongoing events”... Their broad statements will continue to be useless.

It’s the darkest it’s ever been in the City. I’m unsure how they will rebuild. I cannot say for sure that they ever will.

But for now, the sinkholes have stopped falling inwards. Hopefully, we can begin to regain our ground. It is only then that I will be able to escape from the City - to leave it now would be reckless. I must do what the City fails to, as always…

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

Has it been long since I last spoke to you, February? I’ll be honest, so much has happened recently that I can’t remember.

It feels like forever ago, now.

There’s a lot to catch you up on. The City, one day, looked like ruins, with many buildings now halfway in the ground with mud up to their fifth floors. The next day, they were restored. Or, at least, it seems to have been.

Everything… it’s all back to normal. Overnight, the City has healed itself, the sinkholes were suddenly now a thing of the past… and so, it seems, is everything else too.

All of the signs warning residents of the sinkholes, all of the campaign posters, the barricades? Gone. Everyone now walks around in Universe City as if nothing ever happened in the first place. It sounds about right, doesn’t it? The City never fails to confuse me.

It reminds me of the day I last saw you, February. For so long, it was the two of us. In the blink of an eye, I was alone. Just like in the City, I woke up that morning and it was as if you were never there. As if you had never existed. Something had shifted in that place, but no one dared to talk about it. It never sat right with me.

But no matter what, I knew that you were out. The hells felt lighter now that you were no longer here with me. I never blamed you for running from the fire. After you left, the flames turned to me. I only prayed they would not hurt me as they did you. I only prayed you would not blame yourself if they did harm me, as I blamed myself.

But you may never know what the hells did to me, February, as you ascended from them to the stars where you reside. I can only hope that you are well.

Do not pretend as though your wounds are mere scratches, for if you cover them and say you are okay, you are only lying to those who do not care. The ones who do will know that the sinkholes still lie underneath the City’s surface.

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

It’s so quiet on the rooftops… I can’t remember the last time the City felt quiet. I’ve been fighting for so long.

But everything is resolved, I suppose… Or so the City claims.

Everyone acts like it is. So I must act so too.

[Sigh]

I can’t remember the last time I had a moment to myself to watch the stars like this.

Are you watching them too, old sport?

I do wonder whether we are looking at the same sky or not.

In theory, we are, are we not…?

But then why is it that I always feel so far from you? From February? From everyone ?

Sometimes, it feels like everyone else is looking at the same sky, while I’m not. Everyone’s sky is blue, or grey, or navy, or black. Mine is red, or purple, or yellow, or green.

Well, how could I prove to you otherwise, old sport?

[...]

I can’t help but feel as though the sky stares back at me. Does it think so innocently of me as I do them…? It…? Does the sky believe it looks upon the same humans no matter where they are, despite the billions of unique lives that actually reside here? Does the sky know it sparkles? Does the sky know it’s blue? Or purple? Or red? Or green?

Does the City know what it’s doing to its residents? Does the sky? Do the stars? Do the residents?

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

Ever since solving the whole sinkhole situation, Solus and I have been hanging out a lot more often. Not much else to do here now, I suppose. Plus, they are a super useful contact to have.

Solus is big on data collecting in the City — not common intel whatsoever. They have data of anything you can think of. Considering the City is repeated, it's technically a finite space. So, it’s possible.

They know how many buildings there are, how many cars, streetlamps, creatures, and even citizens. It’s incredibly useful. Of course, I question how they even obtained this information, or if it's even accurate. Nevertheless, it's always good to have as much info as I can about the City. You never know when these sorts of things could save your life.

Hell, it was because of K’s patrols that I knew where the Cyborgs’ office was. He always pointed out the old, rotting building by Tomsby St and the old station, and how the Cyborgs seemed to always come crawling back to it.

Contacts are kept as contacts for a reason.

I thought, especially after K, that I would stop befriending contacts but… I think with Solus it was inevitable. After all, we worked so closely for so long.

During that time, I have definitely learned a lot about them. Here are some quick Solus facts:

1. They found their infamous hideout by following a rat for a whole day to find out where it lived. No, I don’t even know if this was for their data. Yes, they left an eviction notice for the rats. They gave them one month.
2. They accidentally left bleach in the ends of their hair for too long when attempting to dye it and had to cut it off. They ended up preferring shorter hair anyway.
3. Like myself, and everyone else I know in the City, they don’t know how they got here. But with the governors and the agency on their tail, it’s no surprise they also want to leave. Just like myself and everyone else I know here too.

[Paper slides across the floor]

Ah, speak of the devil- [paper rustles]

“Are you just going to keep exposing me, or…?”

Well, you could join me, Solu-

[Another paper slides across the floor, paper rustles]

“I’m busy-” Oh, sure… “But if you really wanted another fact then… Well, my favourite colour is red.”

…Red? Your whole brand and vibe is supposed to be cool and mysterious but your favourite colour is just ‘red’? Personally, my favourite colour is the shade of blue the sky becomes when it’s autumn in the late evening around-

[Another paper slides across the floor, paper rustles]

“Lame.”

Hey! You’re one to ta-

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

It’s been a little while since I’ve given you a City update, hasn’t it, old sport?

Well, I’ll give you the recap first.

There were sinkholes… then suddenly, there were no sinkholes.

That does it for the recap.

Now! In terms of recent events…

The election that also very quickly disappeared, much like the sinkholes, was confirmed to be the last one for the next five years. It didn’t even happen. The governors are claiming that it did. They keep posting about ‘invisible short-term amnesia gas’ that was airborne but contained within a night. They assured everyone that the vote was in favour of their party, they simply just couldn’t remember the results. Again. Just like how they always do it. Everyone believed them — almost   everyone.

The cyborgs have been getting louder. You used to hear the clang of their metal hitting the concrete if they were close. Now you hear them everywhere… Always. It’s almost a protest for them, now that their plans were foiled. They’re making themselves everybody else’s problem, in a whole new way.

Kind of makes you wonder what it’s like to be one. A cyborg… I wonder if they know what it’s like. I’m not sure I know what it’s like to be human. Sometimes, I feel so separated from this species. Anywhere, anytime… But especially in the City.

All of these other people… They’re supposed to be like me. Human. Alive. So, why are we so different?

We have such different perspectives of the world. Of the City. I suppose that goes for everyone, even people like me. Like Solus, like Thalia. But at least we have that in common. How come, with all of these people, it feels like the only thing we have in common is our species…?

How can we live such different lives while living in the same space, sharing it with the same people, breathing the same air?

I don’t disturb them. I don’t mess with any of them. Yet, why… Why is there this silent judgement? Why does it feel like they know I’m different? They don’t know me! 

You-! You, old sport, are a hypothetical ear on the other side of this frequency. Yet, why do I feel like you understand me more than they do? Those real, living, people. Just like me… Just like me.

But are they?

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[…]

When I leave Universe City, old sport, alive or dead - hypothetically, what will remain of me in my memory?

I’ve been thinking about that question a lot recently, I must admit.

Many times have I spoken on this radio and ranted endlessly about my struggle to make other residents understand. Understand where they are, why they are here and why they also cannot get out.

And many times have I said that it does not work. It never works.

I always knew the City was like this. I suppose the same goes for others - K, Thaila, Solus… No one I’ve met like me was ‘converted’, in some way or another.

I know it’s not a learned awakening. I know I can’t change them.

But is that why I keep trying? All this time, I’ve known I couldn’t, but I keep trying because when I leave the City if no one speaks of my name it would be as if I was never here. It would be as if all my work was for nothing.

I suppose I have you, old sport, right?

I wonder if the City would feel the weight of my absence. Despite their irregard, before I leave, I know that I will be sending formal apologies to the residents. Just in case… Just in case it evokes them. Just in case they realise then what the City is doing. Even if it may break their hearts.

[…]

When I leave Universe City, if I am remembered, old sport, that is the version of me they will remember. Radio who left the City. What about who am I after that…?

They will never know what will become of me. They will never know who I grew into. Are they concerned?

It’s all I ever think about with February.

You’ve grown since I last saw you. What does this mean? Do you own a car? Do you drive- Can you drive? Do you have a place to yourself?

Do you even consider yourself to be the same person as the one I last saw?

Perhaps that is why I am scared. I need people to know who I am but… How do I know that this version of me is who I am?

I suppose we never truly know, do we? 

I hope that - when I do leave - I can look at myself in the mirror and know, deep down, that I am, and always have been, Radio.

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

I think that’s all of the updates I have for you, old sport…! As I said before, the City has slowed down for now.

As a consequence, Solus keeps talking my ear off about how bored they are. They seem to be desperate for something to do.

Personally, I’m happiest when the City is as quiet as it is right now.

Unfortunately for me, it’s only a matter of time before it gets loud again.

I suppose that’s what Solus is wishing for.

I suppose that’s what I’m dreading.

I understand the excitement. The streets of the City are finally filled with crowds again… The lecture halls will once again be filled with the dread and tiredness of its students… And best of all, to Solus, I suppose, there’s work to do…!

Lots of it. Sure, keeps you busy. Keeps you away from your setup. Gets you out and about.

As much as I can appreciate that - and I do, it’s just… It’s just not what I want to be doing. Ever, really.

All of those tasks that come with the busy season. Fighting cyborgs. Ensuring the safety of these mindless citizens. All without a single thank you.

How am I supposed to have any motivation to do all of that? Without a single piece of validation?

I understand my morals more than anyone else, old sport… I’ll do it because I know I’ll feel bad if I don’t. If I am aware of a situation, that is, a citizen being in danger, if I knowingly do nothing to help… It doesn’t sit right with me. Simple Kantian philosophical thought, is it not?

But despite that… It’s becoming really hard for them to do any of this stuff at all . Even if it means they get to stay alive. Would I be so wrong to think they’d be better off dead?

I apologise, old sport. I’m letting my emotions get the best of me.

When I say I only wish to leave the City, I truly mean it. Helping these people gets me nowhere.

But I suppose it keeps me busy while I try to find an escape plan. Perhaps I understand Solus more than I imagined. More than I ever could have wanted to, really.

Now, Solus- Don’t even think about sending a letter under my door right now! I don’t want to read any kind of “I told you so”.

[SOLUS]: (muffled, from outside) Told you so…

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening. 

[...]

February. I hope you are well.

And when I speak of ‘you’, I know who I am talking to.

So often was I scared that my idea of you, February, was something of the past.

It may be. Until I hear from you, I shall never know what you get up to. The thought continues to consume me.

But what does this matter, I realised, when you don’t know who I am anymore?

I write to you, February, so often. Whether they reach you or not, whether they end up in the fire or return from its ashes, barely a word tells you of me. Of who I am now … Only words of the City, or contacts, or you. And you know who you are. Well, I hope that you do.

I suppose a part of me still believes I am the same as the day you left me. But that’s not true, is it?

You must think I look the same. Feel the same. Do the same things. Live the same life.

What subtle changes for me will feel life-changing for you to find out?

I suppose I have no choice but to list some.

I learned how to fix a radio. I don’t think I had nearly enough independence to do something like that before you left. Or before Thalia showed me how to, really.

Maybe surprising to you, but my hair is pink. It wasn’t when I last saw you, right? That has to be right… I only remember buying hair dye in the City. I suppose I’m not too sure when the first ever time was.

Ah, my bike…! My lunar bike, that I use to ride around the City. I doubt you would be able to recognise me, February, with my helmet on. Not that you would see me in the first place…

I hope that you do. From your place in the sky, I hope that you do.

I suppose if you can return from the ashes maybe I can see you before you turn to dust and are once again reborn. Would you still remember me?

Perhaps, February, you do not reside in the City’s stars. After all, if you did, you would know of me now, no? I would not have to explain all that I have.

I always believed that you knew you had to get out when you could. I always wondered what you knew.

That’s what has changed of me, February. I would have left. Just as you did. The me I am now would have left when they could. And now, I can’t.

But we are in the future now. It is only my fault that I did not foresee it.

In the end, I am still me, February. Still the Radio you knew when you left. If I am honest, I haven’t recognised myself since. For when I see you once more, I will finally be myself again.

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

Old sport. Something is different in the City.

I can’t be sure of what it is… But something feels off.

The City has very exactly felt ‘on’ to begin with, to be clear, but I can sense that something has changed. Something has shifted.

It sounds… Different? Quieter than usual…? Maybe louder? I’m really not sure... If I’m being honest.

Something in the ground…? A slight tremble now lies before my feet… But was that there before…?

Perhaps the winds have picked up a little more than usual… Though I don’t recall there being winds in the City before… Were there…?

Maybe they simply… Changed direction.

Nothing that a spot of rain can’t fix…

What was I talking about? Right, yes.

Perhaps it’s those pesky sinkholes again, threatening to cave in at any second.

Well- that is if they truly were never filled in, but rather covered up. It is all my own conspiracy, I suppose. It would explain the ground trembling though…

What was the ground even like before the sinkholes? What was life like before the sinkholes, at this point? When will I ever manage to get past these damn sinkholes!

Perhaps this is the universe telling me this is the peak of my career. [Chuckles] It’s weird to call my work in the City a ‘career’. A career is supposed to be something you build and improve step by step.

Where am I going? What am I doing? How am I supposed to 'climb up the ranks' when I have no employer? ‘Career ladder’? There’s not even a real ladder out of this place, never mind a hypothetical one!

Sorry. Sorry, old sport. I’m letting myself go again.

I must ask Solus if they have noticed any changes-

[Paper slides across the floor, rustles]

“Yes. Already working on it. - Solus”

Great…! Could you, well, could you tell me what’s going o-

[Another paper slides across the floor, rustling]

“Not here. Not now. My place at 0300-” Is this really necessary?

[One more piece of paper glides along the floor, more rustling]

“Yes. - Solus”

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

If you remember on my last call, old sport, Solus invited me to their place to discuss the current ongoings of the City.

There was no question about whether or not I was going. Solus and I worked out those sinkholes together. We could work out this mystery together too.

The manner in which they invited me, however - that being via a letter telling me to meet them at theirs at 3 in the morning - certainly was worrying me.

Sure, all other times I had been to Solus’ place it was night but, that could not have been later than midnight.

3 A.M. is a little different. It has a reputation! Everyone in the City knows that 3 in the morning is the scariest hour of the day. It’s when the screams are the loudest, after all. All the horrors co-exist in the City exclusively at that hour. 

But, of course, there I was. Leaving the safety of the rooftops not long before 3 A.M. I took the quietest route to Solus’ that I could think of - finally, Nightcrawler’s patrol knowledge comes in handy - and got there without any casualties. Well- I’m talking about me, of course. I did have to fight a couple of cyborgs and ghouls on the way there… One of those blasted cyborgs managed to nick me in the face before I finished it off. My right eye is currently styling a fashionable shade of purple now!

But whatever. They were dealt with, no?

Not well enough, apparently…! As I entered Solus’ place, they were standing facing the back wall, still and stoic. I saw that the room, just as it was before, was covered in papers - but I couldn’t recognise a single piece of paper from last time.

There wasn’t a single thing about the sinkholes. The walls, now, were covered in scrawled question marks across many, messy sheets of paper that were stapled to the walls. A whole wall was dedicated to just tests - breathing tests, listening tests, taste tests.

They had no clue what was going on - just as I did.

Before I even opened my mouth, Solus, who still had their back to me, simply asked me, “What happened to you?”

I managed to stutter a, “What?” before Solus turned around and pointed directly at my right eye.

I had no clue how they knew about my black eye - after all, this room is simply only four walls. They couldn’t see my reflection at all.

Having to disregard my cluelessness, I confronted Solus for sending me outside in the City at 3 A.M.

They told me they were making sure I was the, “right person for the job.” Like what do you mean by that?! We have already worked together. And what does that even mean…? That they have multiple partners…? Contacts…? I suppose I did too once. I doubt Solus would be very willing to share their contacts with me.

But I digress.

Solus and I begin to talk about the City. And the Change.

I suggest that Solus seems to not know anything at all. Just like me.

It is only then that Solus turns around to me, and without saying anything, they take a key and unlock one of their desk drawers.

They reach down and emerge with a pile of papers, the stack, while sitting on their arms, easily covers their whole face. I don’t hesitate to jump and take the top paper off of the stack.

The paper states, “A, B, C, D, and E - Locations of All Sinkholes.”

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

Sorry to put you on hold, if you will, old sport.

I know we left on a bit of a cliffhanger last time… But I just want to talk .

…I know. I do that a lot. Hold your laughter.

Look. With me and Solus investigating all over again, I haven’t had the time to just talk for the sake of talking for a while now.

We all deserve breaks from our work, no?

But, to be nice, and for the sake of clearing stuff up, I’ll indulge in my work for a second, just for you, old sport.

Solus and I are currently making plans to reinvestigate the sinkholes.

If you remember from my recent calls, I’ve been sceptical at the quick disappearance of the troll-made sinkholes the City seemed to make work of overnight.

Turns out, Solus, of course, was equally as sceptical.

When they felt the Change, just as I did, they suspected it was something connected to the ‘disappearance’ of the sinkholes - that perhaps they had simply just been covered up, just as I did…!

In short, we are planning to dig. That’s as much as I can say right now.

Great, now that that’s over, I have some time to talk about what I want!

So, old sport, there’s this-

[Paper glides across the floor, rustling]

“The Change has increased. No more time to waste, we must begin to plan accordingly. Meet me at my place ASAP - Sol-”

…You’ve got to be kidding me.

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[…]

And what a treat it is to work with Solus… Every… Single… Day…

Old sport… Solus didn’t need me on my last call… Not at all .

Nope! Instead, they just wanted me to stop talking about the si- …those big old holes possibly still hiding under the City.

However, I was about to stop talking about them when I was rudely interrupted by a certain someone!

[Sighs] Now, I can finally talk…

[...]

There’s something about the work, February, that you seemed to know. There’s something about life , February, that you seemed to know.

What had you figured out?

I suppose I ask you that a lot these days, don’t I?

I suppose I’ve been looking for an answer more and more recently.

Despite our connection, February, our history, we have so many differences between us. Well, apart from the obvious choices.

When you left… You leapt and you crossed the sky and the stars. It looked like you didn’t even have to try. Oh, I wish you could have told me your secrets.

The difference between us, February, is just that.

When you took that leap of faith, you flew. You never faltered, never dipped, never fell. You flew, as gracefully as you jumped.

Ever since you left, February, I have been defenceless. And, without you around, I found myself scrambling for parts; I used all that you left behind as my armour. As my sword, and my shield.

With my newfound safety, I took leaps just as you did, wishing to fly boundlessly further up into the sky, but instead, all the weight of my defence brought me down. Over and over, I fell back to earth, plummeting further down the unknown depths of the Earth’s waters with each failure.

Despite every failure, each time pulling me closer to the ocean floor; I float. My grip tightens around each part of my defence. Your old CD collection. Your, now charred, jumpers, shirts, and trousers, which still; behind all the seawater; smell as you did. I stop the little things; your pebble collection, your paperclips; from falling out of my pockets. Each little thing, though it weighed me down back to earth, it floated me back to the surface.

No matter where you are, February; where you are, when you are, who you are… I always have your strength with me. I just don’t know if I have enough of it to let go and fly.

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[…]

Guess I can’t talk about Solus and I’s plans as much as I would want to, old sport.

I’ve had a stern talking to by them twice now! Even though both times, I didn’t even say much about our plans at all because they would interrupt me before I got that far…!

[Sighs]. I guess I’ll see how much I can say before Solus interrupts me.

You might remember I talked, on a previous call, of Solus and I’s thought of digging around the locations of each of the previous sinkholes.

First, let’s be clear—we still do not know what ‘The Change’ is other than the fact that we know it has occurred.

We know that something is different. Some sense, some… ‘vibe’, something .

We just can’t put our fingers on it.

Despite our confusion, we both first considered the sinkholes. We knew they were covered up too quickly. It was hard not to be suspicious.

So, we dug. Sinkhole locations A through E. Every. Single. One.

And, consistently, we found… Nothing…!

Well, almost nothing.

The sinkholes, unlike what we expected, weren’t just sitting underneath the City’s surface.

Instead… They were much further down. And smaller.

It took us a while before we reached pits that were once the sinkholes covering the City’s streets.

They… We believe they have been mending themselves… In one way or another.

Unless, I suppose, someone is down there, often, fixing the sinkholes and filling them in themselves, single-handedly.

But the thing is, we had to dig far to get to them… The sinkholes aren’t being mended as you would expect them to do.

If you were to refill a hole… Well, it would build up from the bottom until it’s level with the top… That’s… Common sense…

But the sinkholes… They’ve been mended from the top down. Now, all that remains of them are much smaller pits much further down below the City’s surface.

Someone capable of doing such a thing, well… I don’t know who could be.

Not only is this… Completely impossible unless, perhaps, they had some supernatural power… I suppose something such as that is possible in the City…

But… Worst of all, if we are dealing with such a power, well… Me and Solus, we…

We’ve ruined their work… Their… Project…?

If there’s anything we do know… It’s that we are their project now.

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[…]

That is all for your Universe City update, old sport… However, as for your Radio and Solus update , well… We’re not dead…!

Living is certainly nothing else but a win for us at this rate, even if it is in the City.

We must admit, however, that we were living in fear, if anything.

It is horrifying being in the City in the first place, old sport, trust me. But walking around this place with the belief that there is some kind of strong? Powerful? Magical…? Being? Out to get you by watching your every move?

You can’t blame us for feeling a little ‘on edge’, if you will.

Solus especially has been-

…Is anyone gonna stop me from saying this…?

No letters…? No paper underneath the door…?

…And that, old sport, shows you just how frightened we have been to step outside even for a seco-

SOLUS: I’m not scared.

RADIO: Agh-! I mean… Hah- hah, hi Solus… So nice of you to join my call…

…Solus? Have you found any new information?

Hello…?

…Clearly, that was all they wanted to say…!

Anyways, old sport, we are putting our best efforts into this investigation. It’s just that we can’t exactly investigate outside anymore… Which is the only place you can feel The Change.

Hah… It’s alright. We are not planning on slowing down anytime soon! We just… Have to find out how to conduct our research in a completely different way. It’s no problem…!

[...]

Once again, I find myself waiting for the arrival of spring. At the end of February, I will wait for your departure from me once again.

I see you now, standing at the door. Your eyes are tired, your hands are already red. For a second, I swear I see you look back, maybe even just for a second, before you take a step outside.

I haven’t seen you since then. Perhaps I never saw you, ever, not truly. February, in the grand scheme of the universe, is always the shortest month. Even when we are blessed with an extra day, it runs shorter than the rest.

It runs shorter than it ever should do. Yet, it feels that I have waited for you for the longest time.

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[…]

Old sport! Guess where I am…!

…Okay, I’ll tell you.

I’m outside!

Well, okay, you caught me. I’m on the rooftop.

Yes, yes, it is technically outside… But it’s so separated from the rest of the City that it may as well not be. The streets are outside. Me? I’m in my own world.

Despite not being “outside” outside… I always felt The Change, even on the rooftop.

…I have to tell you, old sport… I can’t feel it anymore. I can’t feel The Change.

Do you think it’s over? Or have I… Have I just gotten used to it?

Well… Can’t exactly call it ‘The Change’ anymore if I technically don’t feel a change anymore, I guess.

Perhaps the sinkholes are finally, well and truly, fixed. Even if it is in a very unconventional manner, to say the least.

Even if The Change is over… I can’t kick this uneasy feeling I have…

What Solus and I saw… The sinkholes… The kind of power you would have to possess to…

We assumed it must be some powerful being but… What if it’s just the City?

Universe City holds thousands, maybe even millions, of unthinkable things. This place is a loop. You could walk around nonstop until your death, and yet you would pass the exact same building at least five times in a single day.

There are the governors, the agency, the cyborgs, zombies, ghouls, trolls… Must I go on?

If there were a sinkhole repairing itself backwards - and there very much is - it would be happening in Universe City.

Solus, I know you must be listening right now. I know you’re still unsure about being outside-

(distant, muffled) [WHHHHRHRRRRRRR!!!!!!]

…And understandably so, especially now, so I know you won’t slide a piece of paper under my door but…

We should really talk about what’s next. I need to know what you think about the City theory. I know it’s a little bland, but sometimes the simplest explanation ends up being the right one. I think there’s a razor or something about that…

…Solus? Are you there?

Hm… Not like them to not be listening… Did you break your microphone or something, Solus? Just use Morse; trust me, I know it well …!

…Hello?

[...]

Chapter Text

Ra- … R- pssshhtt -io? Ca- psshhht -ear me? Hell- psssht

I don’t… I do- pssshht -ere I am- psshhht

My radi- psssshht -eak signal, whereve- pssssht -am has no connec- psssshht -o the City…

Are yo- pssshht -ere? Or can I no- pssshht -ear you? If you’re tryi- pssshht -o send a messa- pssshht -I can’t hear any- psssshht -ing…

Ra- psssshht -io? Radio, co- pssshht -in. Please, Ra- pssshht -o, come in.

I- pssshht -s them, Radio. I kno- pssshht -o fixed the si- pssshhht -oles…!

It’s compli- pssshhht -ted, but I kno- psssshht now…

You ha- pssshht -elp me. I nee- pssshht -ou to help fro- pssshht -e City…

R- pssshht -io? Do you c- pssshht -py?

Please, Radi- pssshht

[Quietly] Oh, I- pssshhht -so sorry…

[RADIO]: Solus?

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello? I hope you’re listening…

Solus? Are you listening? Can you hear me?

It’s been too long since that last call, Solus, I need to know if you’re okay.

I even left my set-up for you. Ran all the way through the City just because you haven’t responded back to me… It’s been too long…!

I’ve been knocking on your door for several minutes now!! What? Were you sleeptalking or something?

You can’t just hop on the radio with some kind of distress call expecting someone to hear it… Wait… Oh, never mind.

Could you just respond so I know you’re okay? I know you have this whole… Cool, independent person brand but this is just getting a bit too much.

I don’t enjoy pranks. This better not be a prank.

[Metallic knocking]

Okay, seriously, Solus. Either respond or at least let me in. Standing outside your place gives me the creeps. I hate being here.

[???]: Wh- psssshhhtt - ere?

Solus? Your place…! I’m at your place! I’ve been outside the door for so long, you have to let me in… And you really have to fix the metal walls, metal doors… Just the whole metal situation, it's really affecting your signal-

[???]: -ssshhht Where?

See! That’s better already. Like I keep saying , your place, idiot. Have you forgotten your address or something? 1508 Tomsby Street, y’know? Like that place where you live? Hope that helps you out, bud.

But seriously, Solus, what’s going on? Are you not home? How far out are you? If you’re out scaling some buildings right no- Aahh , see, it makes sense now! How much trouble did you get into now, Solus? Want me to come bail you out again? How much would it be… Like 5 guards? Oh, actually, I think they have more on schedule on the weekends… Could you be able to wait a few days, I really can’t be bothered fighting any more people than I would have to…

Solus…? [Sigh]

Well, me and you again, old spo-

[WHHHHRHRRRRRRR!!!!!!]

Oh, what the fu- 

[STATIC]

Chapter Text

[Quiet sobs]

Hello… Old sport, are you listening?

It… It was… Za… Solus… They’re…

[Shaky, deep breath] Okay. I’m okay.

Old sport, I’ve not told you all of the horrors I’ve seen in Universe City.

I know I’ve shared my encounters with various different creatures that inhabit the City’s streets, but… I never told you about the skies.

I’ve had an interesting past. That shouldn’t surprise you much… But maybe this will.

I hope you never thought Thalia was my first love… No, no, there were many before.

They came from all different walks of life… Different backgrounds, genders, species…

There was Zahar. He was a… new experience for me at the time. He let me learn so much about outside of the City.

He never let me join him on his adventures.

But I enjoyed learning about his culture, meeting his friends, his family… They were such a unique group of people, each seemingly having their own ability and talent they train for their whole life. Zahar was really good at impressions.

The reason we broke up really was entirely my fault. He found out I only started dating him to see if he would help me escape the City… After a while, I realised he would never, yet, at that point, I loved him.

You see, old sport, you should never date an alien for the wrong reasons.

The whirring, excruciating noise you must’ve been hearing over the radio, old sport, it was the tractor beam of Zahar’s ship.

It didn’t take me too long afterwards to realise exactly who and what was happening. He fixed the sinkholes, he was messing up the City’s atmosphere, knowing I’d be the one to notice. Except, I wasn’t the only one… Solus noticed too.

I got so ahead of myself… But that noise… The whirring… I can’t believe I didn’t realise I had heard it before…

I went to call out to Zahar and confront him, but… I looked in front of me… And he had this radio… Sitting on a desk with a microphone…

It was hard to take your eyes off the tank behind it… The green liquid affected with red… Sol- [sob] They… Lifeless. Limp.

I couldn’t hold myself back.

I don’t know what I did. I don’t know how I did it.

One moment, I was searching for Zahar in the control room. The next, I was scrambling for a construction manual.

I wanted to fly out of the City. For good. Finally.

But… My hands were shaking and I… I…

There’s a crater where a sinkhole used to be.

One of the furthest away ones, thankfully.

Everything was destroyed, the… The ship was rubble. I don’t know how I survived.

But Solu… That tank was the only thing preserved.

I took one last look. It didn’t look like them.

They weren’t angry… nor putting on a tough face… nor even… sad.

They looked peaceful . Content.

After all, they got out… They escaped Universe City.

That’s all any of us really want… Isn’t it?

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello…? God, I hope somebody is listening.

I just keep thinking, old sport… What if Solus was the last one?

They were listening to me before I met them… An unknown spectator… What if they were a one and only…?

At least… I suppose… I know you’re always here, February.

Even if you’re just a thought in my head.

Even if you’re an exploded star in the sky.

Even then… My idea of you is skewed.

My head feels skewed.

Every time I take a hit from the City I say, “Well, it can’t get worse than that…” And then it does.

I’m not well, February.

I wish you were here so I could tell you that.

I wish you were here to hold me.

Hell, I wish you were listening just as you were that one night… My sobs filled the silence, yet your presence was all that I needed to feel better.

I mean- You are listening. That is what I’m supposed to tell myself.

Supposed to…? Yeah, yeah.

I just don’t know if I have the strength to believe myself anymore.

How many times did I tease Solus? How many times did I get annoyed by them sliding those papers under my floor? How many times did I say those things and believe them?

Everything feels quiet. The City… My set-up… It feels as if it has been so long since I’ve had an uninterrupted broadcast… I never would have expected to be one day upset about that.

When will the day come, February, when I hear back from you? 

I cannot bear the thought that you, too, were left to wilt in a tank, floating boundlessly, yet so confined.

I don’t know what to think anymore. I don’t know what to think. I don’t know. I don’t…

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

Oh, and one other thing.

Unsurprisingly, the government has forbidden anyone from going to the crash site where Solus still resides.

Fortunately for us, old sport… That singular warning was all of the effort they decided to put into reinforcing those wishes.

I’ve visited… Every day since… Well, I’ll admit, old sport, I’ve been there every moment I’m away from this radio.

I haven’t had much sleep anyway. Why try to sleep away from the site when I could be there… ?

Meanwhile, Solus just… Floats… Tauntingly… Even in death, I know they’re boasting about getting out of the City before me… As they wilt away endlessly with that peaceful smirk drawn across their face.

Each passing day, that smirk fades… And while they remain as peaceful as the day I first saw them in that tank, their face drops more and more with every passing look.

It’s a dishonesty. A disgrace. It’s an awful way to remember Solus for who they were.

I’m performing a burial.

The crash site has to be fixed anyway, and of course I would end up doing that anyway… What better an excuse to give Solus a respectful send off?

Not only is this a true funeral and celebration for Solus, it is an open invitation.

I keep thinking… Maybe there are others like Solus. Maybe there are people listening. Maybe you are not just an imaginary audience.

I want you to prove it.

If you are a Universe City citizen, and are currently listening - which you are, considering you are currently hearing my voice - I encourage you to come. Join me. I do not mean you any harm.

I just wish for solidarity in this cruel city.

We all need allies. Even Solus’ solitude failed to save them.

If you know what is good for you… Well…

I hope to see you there, old sport.

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

She was there, old sport.

Me, Solus, in that sickening tank… and Thalia .

She… Her hair was just…

It was sitting past her shoulders, unlike what I had seen before.

Her usual chin-length bob was overgrown by the agency’s firm grasp on her.

Her hair still had several colours of faded dyes, mostly pink, but her natural roots were taking over from neglect. It was brown, until her ears.

The dark colour brought out that of her eyes too. Not only of her irises, but the circles underneath.

She looked miserable.

I wanted to ask her so many questions. Was this the agency’s doing? What had they done to her? Do they know she’s here? Do they know I’m here? …Do you still listen?

Instead, I kept my head low. Looking down into the six-foot deep hole I had just struggled to dig. It would only just about fit the tank. It still felt dishonourable to Solus.

I asked her one thing.

“Is there anything you would like to say?”

And in response, she said nothing. I just watched as a single tear dropped from her eyes. It’s then that she makes eye contact with me for the first time since she left months ago.

I saw it all in that moment. Her hair, her eyes, the exhaustion, the grief.

From a pocket, or perhaps simply she had it all this time, she holds a flower.

A black iris.

It pains me to see it be placed on top of the tank that has now become Solus’ casket, knowing now what the flower means.

Power. Strength. Rebellion .

And yet, it is buried with them.

Thalia gives me one final look. All-encompassing. Mysterious. Like a black iris.

One that almost begs for help. Yet also says I’m sorry.

And just as quickly as I saw her, she was gone.

And just as quickly as I saw them, they, too, were gone.

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

I suppose I never truly said goodbye to Solus before they died… It’s a song I seem to be more and more familiar with these days.

But it feels far from appropriate to hold such a service for you, February.

After all, we may just see each other again.

I must tell you about this story I heard… One said to be of unrequited love and betrayal.

They say she seduced and betrayed her lover for self-gain. Called her greedy. Avaricious.

But it isn’t true.

There are always two people in this story. The woman and her lover.

Why must he be framed as the victim?

After all, he fell for her tricks; he knew exactly of what she was capable.

And when he wanted to prove his love, he was betrayed.

I would not say you have betrayed me, February. Far from it.

I know your tricks. I know of what you are capable.

Because they were never for me.

They were the tricks that fueled the flame. Your capabilities now charred by the fire.

You have left, February, oh so long ago… But you have not betrayed me.

I remain… Asleep on the floor, no men awaiting to capture me in your betrayal.

Yet, I feel your absence from beneath me, your breaths no longer fighting the silence.

I remain.

While you have not led me to my demise, February, I have proven my love many times, and yet I still await your call.

Waiting, I remain.

You have not betrayed me, no.

But you have left me in this empty room…

No one hidden, ready for my capture…

At least, perhaps, the company would have been nice…

But here I remain, alone, knowing that you did not run for greed, February.

You ran because you had to.

And that shall never be a betrayal to me.

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[…]

I don’t know what to expect next for me, old sport. Well, I suppose I never have.

I wish to resume my mission to get out of the City, but… I’ve been left with no one…

Everyone… All of my contacts… They’re either dead or… Taken by the agency.

[Sighs] The agency …

I need to be honest with you, old sport.

I’m not currently at my usual set-up.

I… I know what Thalia told me when she left… I know she told me not to worry, not to look, not to fight… But, hell, you know what she was like when I last saw her… The look in her eyes, she… It’s as if she wanted me to help her, but… She couldn’t say it.

I’ll be honest, old sport, I haven’t stopped thinking about it.

I thought… Well, if she couldn’t speak to me about the agency, then maybe… Maybe she had decided to use a different tactic… That light.

I’m currently at that old building across from it, the light Thalia used to convey messages to me from within the agency via Morse code.

I haven’t returned in months. The last I saw of this place was Thalia’s last message flashing over and over, “I will be okay,” “I will be okay,” “I will be okay.”

When I arrived, the light was the first thing I cared to know about. Was Thalia’s message still repeating itself, over and over?

It was hard not to notice immediately how dark it was.

The light was out.

It was then no surprise that it took me longer to notice the glass on the floor.

The bin sitting only just a meter away from the shattered light held a single, old-fashioned baseball bat.

There’s no other evidence left of this crime.

Which is why I’m still here tonight, old sport.

It must have been a member of the agency who did this, I’m sure of it.

Thalia’s only connection to me had been discovered and cut off. While, sure, we weren’t using it, it explains why Thalia was so unkempt at Solus’ burial…

They didn’t know it was no longer in use. They were punishing her for it… No wonder she couldn’t stay long. It’s a wonder she managed to leave at all.

No doubt that with knowing where the light is, they’ll be looking for the receiver of the messages.

This is why I’m here now: to make sure I catch them first.

[…]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

[Yawns] Sorry, old sport. It’s been a little while since I got any beauty sleep… Hah…

Haven’t exactly been getting my eight hours a night recently… Well, if I’m honest, I haven’t gotten any hours for a few days.

It’s just… [Yawns]... I’ve been… Looking for whoever did that to the light… You know, Thalia and I's light…

That sounds like some kind of metaphor… I should write that down… Maybe…

What was I saying? [Yawns]... Right…

There’s no one here, Febru- Old sport.

There can’t be, they… If they were watching me, they would’ve already got me. Why… [Yawns]... Haven’t they gotten me?

Why am I still… [Yawns]... Here?

…

[Yawns]...

I just want… To go home…

But that’s… [Yawns]... Not where you are… February…

I’ll look to the stars for you… [Yawns]... 

Who am I… [Yawns]... Looking for again…?

I just… [Yawns]... Need to… [Yawns]

…

[Heavy breathing slowly turns into soft snores]

…

[Distant footsteps]

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening…

Phew, sorry about that last call, old sport.

Must’ve dozed off at some point… That’s embarrassing.

Oh! Sorry, yes, I don’t know how much you actually heard.

But I suppose I should give an update nevertheless.

I woke up to some pretty heavy footsteps approaching from behind me.

I sprang up and looked across the street to see the same scene as before… But, instead, the baseball bat had vanished.

I didn’t even need to look behind me.

I grabbed the bat and ripped it out of the attacker’s hands before spinning around, ready to give them a lesson.

I swung the bat back… And then… Nothing.

Because standing before me wasn’t just one of the agency’s goons.

Shielding her face with her hands… Not even screaming, or telling me to wait…

Thalia ...

She exhaled, taking her hands from her face to the bat, grabbing it out of my hands while I stayed motionless, staring.

She immediately started to usher me out the door. Telling me I couldn’t be here, I shouldn’t be here, and how she told me this and told me that .

I listened to her, old sport, trust me, I did.

But not without asking her how she was here.

But all she said was that she wasn’t…

I asked her what she meant… Over and over, I asked her.

She told me, once again, not to look for her. To not come here again. They’re dangerous, they’re suspicious about me… They’re coming .

Then, she told me to wake up.

And I listened to her, old sport.

I woke up.

Sitting across from the shattered light, across from the baseball bat, the call still running.

I immediately started to pack up my things.

I don’t know how… And I don’t know why I trusted it… But I knew that wasn’t just another dream.

As soon as my set-up was packed up… A door, only a few meters away from the light, slammed open. I ducked under the short walls encasing the building’s roof. My heart was beating out of my chest.

I knew they knew I was here.

Thalia told me so.

But they didn’t know exactly where.

All because I packed up in time.

Phew… I think you’re all caught up now, old sport.

Oh, I’m in Solus’ place right now.

Weird choice… I know…

But considering it’s the only place I knew outside of the rooftops… I didn’t have much choice.

Solus didn’t tell me much about their time at the agency before… Well…

Fortunately for me, Solus always had data. And lots of it.

I’ll hop back on the frequency in a bit, old sport… I’ve got some reading to do.

[…]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

Still in Solus’ place, old sport. You cannot imagine the number of files and documents Solus kept in the place. I promise, whatever you can imagine, double it… Triple it!

I found a whole other room. Multiple, even. The only documents in Solus’ main room were the ones they frequented, the ones that were in progress. It was all mostly sinkhole stuff, unsurprisingly.

The rooms are filled to the brim with pile after pile of papers and folders containing written data about the City and its residents. Coinveniently, they were alphabetised!

So tell me why, old sport, can I still not find anything about the agency!

Solus was captured by them, escaped from them. And I’m supposed to believe that they wrote nothing from that experience down?

I’ve checked all of the documents under ‘A’. Twice. I even checked the documents under T, just in case Solus was one of those… Odd people who would’ve sorted THE agency under T.

I’ll admit, old sport, I have found some interesting files in my search. Don’t worry, I’ll share some of the most peculiar.

Like… Ah, there’s a whole document on how many telephone boxes there are and which ones are haunted!

Oh, and weirdly enough, there’s this document called ‘A Previous Life?’ which lists random words… Apparently, these are some kinds of concepts and ideas that they seem to remember and can bring to mind, but have never seen in the City before…? Things like um… ‘squ-i-rels’ and… `floh-ers’? I’m not sure.

Oh-! You would find this funny, old sport, there’s a whole document about K’s various locations and set-up… How funny is that? And K called himself ‘Nightcrawler’, hah! He thought he was so sly… Believe it or not, since Solus never came into contact with him, he was just documented under ‘All Black Clothing - Locations.’ I was laughing for so long after I found it… I knew it was him immediately!

[Sighs] Nevertheless, still no sign of anything talking about the agency.

I know what you’re thinking, old sport… Yes, of course I looked at my own file. Not much in it, honestly! Mostly just notes about my calls before I actually met them. After that, they must’ve been too caught up in all the sinkhole business to really expand my file… I would’ve loved to have known what would’ve been said about me…

Oh… And, of course… I found Thalia’s file among the Ts… Believe it or not, it’s thinner than mine is…!

Must’ve not been the easiest break up…!

I actually… Didn’t read it… Not until now… Thought we could delve into it together, old sport! It’s not much of a long read after all…

[Paper rustles, page is turned over]

[Mumbling] Thalia… Age: unknown, well, yes… That goes for all of us… Appearance… Location… Status… Hold on. Status: caught by…? What?

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[…]

Unbelievable… Solus…! They’re unbelievable!

Thalia’s file said she had been caught by cyborgs .

I know that’s not true. You know that’s not true, old sport… Unless this file really was abandoned after they broke up, and this is referring to something else…

But surely… Surely, Thalia would have shared that with me… Being caught by cyborgs? That’s a story she would have told me ten times over had she come out alive from it!

I digress. The file said cyborgs, so I had to find the file for the cyborgs.

And… Old sport… My God, you wouldn’t believe the size of it.

The cyborg document is essentially its own pile.

The last document in the ‘C’ area.

I could lie to you, old sport, and say it hasn’t taken me much time at all to go through it, but…

Well, other than the vow I made to you oh so long ago to be honest… It’s the furthest thing from the truth. I couldn’t lie about it if I tried.

I’m still at Solus’ place… Still reading through this absolute monster.

Once you get past the hundreds of front pages detailing each individual cyborg Solus has come in contact with, you then get onto the many… Many more pages of cyborg acts Solus has witnessed.

Of course, a lot of the time this includes Solus realising a lot of them are retreating to a similar place… That’s how they knew where their HQ was when we confronted them concerning the sinkholes.

Sometimes it’s random stories of cyborgs putting up campaign posters or trampling residents.

There was even a story of a cyborg following a rat into Solus’ place. Luckily for me, I had already heard of “Cyborg#1105” and their run-in with Solus from the first section.

[Sigh, a page turns]

It’s just… [page turns] Surely, if Thalia was ‘caught by cyborgs’, [page turns] you’d have something about that interaction here.

[Page turns]

It’s just getting tiring reading… Oh? Finally, a new section… Huh? “Human Cyborgs”...?

What does this even mean…? [Page turns]

Oh… My God.

[...]

Chapter Text

Old sport, I hope you’re listening… I really hope you are.

It’s… The “human cyborgs”… It’s every person ever captured by the agency.

At least… I think.

I wouldn’t be surprised if Solus managed to document all of them.

There’s so much on… Location… Old sport, would you believe it? All this time, I’ve been searching for where the agency is based and… It’s all right here.

K’s capture… All in here. Of course, Solus didn’t know K’s name, not even as ‘Nightcrawler’. But who else would be notably dressed in black head to toe?

Solus has bullet point after bullet point… Retelling the story of K’s capture. They were watching him on his usual patrol rooftop, scanning back and forth… One moment they were there, and the next…! Smuggled off the roof with ease .

I can’t lie, old sport. I don’t care for Nightcrawler at all. But the thought made me feel ill.

Of all people… If K couldn’t have sensed his capture, escape the agency, then… I…

[Clears throat]

There’s nothing on Thalia. Which isn’t surprising… If you remember when I met Solus, old sport, they didn’t even know that Thalia had been captured until I told them.

I know why now.

Not because of any kind of petty aftermath after their break up, no… Solus was in the agency when Thalia was captured.

They retell the true lack of contact to the outside world within the agency’s HQ… Solus had no idea what was going on in the City. It’s not hard to see the gap that occurs in their data.

But Solus realised they had an opportunity to escape… When a new person is brought in.

They noted that people seemed to be captured on a bi-weekly basis… Without seemingly ever missing that schedule.

All focus would be on the new recruit, with key agency workers all focused on decontamination and “training”.

Solus realised that’s when they must make their escape.

It just so happened… With how the timelines worked out… Thalia’s capture was the thing that set Solus free.

I need to let you know that that wasn’t written in the document, old sport. But Solus knew. The information to work it out was all there… They just didn’t want to write it down. They didn’t want it to be true.

[...]

But of course, Solus had to be discreet about having this information… The agency would have ‘recruited’ Solus in the first place because of all their data… Never mind their piles of documents being useful to them… They knew that Solus had known about them before their own recruitment. They knew that Solus had the power to shut them down.

And when Solus eventually did escape… To which I’ve still to figure out how… Even if they didn’t know where they lived… The agency could still eventually get their hands on Solus’ work… All of these documents… All of the data.

It would only make them more powerful. Knowing all of these things about the City… They’re the ones with an intelligent enough platform in the City to put Solus’ work to use in a much larger scale.

So large, I… It would allow them to overthrow the government and take over the City themselves.

Their ultimate goal. Fulfilled.

Now… I know what I need to do.

I need to take over for Solus.

Better yet…

I need to fight back.

[...]

Chapter Text

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[…]

There’s a lot to do in preparation for a fight, old sport.

Even more in preparation for a war.

But even more in preparation to take over Solus’ old job.

You would not believe the amount of time I had put into reading as many of Solus’ documents as possible.

So many are on such trivial, small things… So many things I’ve never even thought about in the city.

I’ve been doing too much thinking recently, old sport.

All I want to do is have a break from my own brain. Step back and let someone else do the driving.

And while I don’t exactly have the ability to do that… I know exactly what will allow me to relax… Even just for a moment.

[…]

I’ve wondered a lot recently, February, why I seem to miss you more at night.

Beyond the city’s late night horrors… Beyond your starry appearance… There is something about the moonlight which makes your absence sparkle. It shines bright into my eyes until I am unable to see anything but you. You flood my mind with memories of your touch. I can’t help but cry.

It is only recently that I figured out this mystery. Only while I was flooded with another memory did the realisation replace it.

The clock that sat in your room. It would tick, tick, tick, one second after the other as I began to feel safe once again in your arms.

I remembered, February.

I would sit and listen. Tick, tick, tick.

Until it became slower.

[Tick…]

Until I knew I was cherishing every second with you.

[Tick…]

Allowing myself to feel the seconds,

[Tick…]

Every moment lasted longer with you, February.

[Tick…]

I would struggle to keep myself awake.

[Tick…]

Knowing that if I fell asleep, I would lose those precious seconds.

[Tick…]

But I was comfortable. Oh, I was always so comfortable with you, February.

[Tick…]

And that… [Yawns] Was always my downfall…

[Tick…]

[Tick…]

[Tick, tick, tick…]