Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I don’t know how an office this clean can smell so… heavy. It’s like they don’t want you to forget that you’re almost a tenth of a mile under the surface. I knew the federation liked to hide their bases underground, but this felt excessive.

“Welcome to the QSMP Research Bureau,” Cucurucho said, mechanically. They didn’t look at me, or gesture around at the grand white walls.  It was the first thing they’d said after a long, silent elevator ride, but I could forgive their awkwardness. Small talk had never been in the perfection checklist-- at least I assumed so. Bears were far from my department, although you wouldn’t guess it by looking at me. Most people assume that if you talk soft and wear bright colors-- and, god forbid, have a name -- then you must work with something delicate, like the bears. But I’m a scientist. Not a babysitter. I was here to build something dangerous. Powerful. At least, that’s what I was supposed to be here for. Cucurucho had other plans.

“The EGG project has been put on hold,” they said, stepping out of the elevator. The room glowed with a warm, untraceable light that bounced off of every quartz tile that lined the high ceilinged room. The elevator had set us out on an upper walkway. I could see over the edge, at the open room below, with the federation logo tiled into the floor, but I couldn’t see much else down there. Just a whole lot of white and the sound of an unseen fountain. On our level, I could see one end of the walkway that turned abruptly right. The other end met bluntly with a larger room, where I could see books and the end of a long table.

I should be on the lower level, I realized. I could see it, just out reach-- but there weren’t any stairs. The EGG project was on the lowest level . I couldn’t stop here! 

“What?” I asked. “What? What? What?”

“Yes,” they said. “You will be working on another project until the EGG project is ready to resume. Please, follow me.”

I followed him down the walkway into the hall, walking away from where I should have gone. I wanted to protest, or at least ask why , but I knew it would be pointless. Their voice lines were pretty limited. They had prepared that one especially for my arrival, and if they couldn’t say more, then they wouldn’t. Besides, I wasn’t going to climb the ranks any higher by questioning them. As I crossed the catwalk, I could see across the lower level. It was down there-- the vault door-- I knew the EGG weapon systems were just behind that door-- towards some lab in the biology wing. But it seemed the federation saw my degree in biochemistry as zoology with extra paperwork. 

The hallway stretched out dimly on the other side of the corridor. Doors lined the walls, each only numbered to differentiate one from the next. Cucurucho stopped and turned towards one, waiting for me to open it. I wasn’t surprised by what I found. Because what else  would they have me do? If not dimension traveling or bio-weapons or medicine, like I was after? No, they put me in here with animals. Still alive, non-dissected, breathing, screeching… Animals .

“Please, read the book,” Cucurucho instructed as they put a leatherbound report into my hands. I skimmed through it quickly, just to get the gist-- I would read it more closely once I was alone. Well, as alone as I could be in here.

“I will. Thank you for this opportunity,” I said, not letting a hint of sarcasm enter my voice. Because, I was grateful for the opportunity. For the job. For everything. I would be nothing without the federation. 

“I hope you enjoy the island,” they said, and walked out quickly, letting the door close automatically behind them. And just like that, Cucurucho was gone. One variable out of the equation. I looked around the barren laboratory. One desk. One chair. One lab table. One big tank, half-embedded into the wall. Obviously, I was working alone. If I needed some low-level lackey, I’m sure I could find one somewhere, but the fewer people I got involved with, the better. I wanted to control as much of this as possible. It was between me, and the report.

I heard a thud against the tank. Right-- it was between me, the report… and the subject.

There was a picture of the animal in the report, but still, it was a little shocking to see it so close to the glass. No fear of people, it seemed. I was expecting it to be smaller, but it was about the same size as a person. Its golden skin glowed green under the dappled fluorescents, but the gray parts were practically invisible in the murky seawater-- it was weird for the water to be dirty, wasn’t it? That didn’t seem like perfection.

 The animal floated prone for a moment, but then turned up, planting its webbed feet into the artificial seabed. It was standing, just like me. By standing so close to glass, I could no longer see my reflection, just the creature’s bizarre, metallic face, and the empty eyes of the shark face just above it.

“Oh, hey!” it said.

I stepped back in surprise. 

“Nice to meet you! You must be my new coworker. I’m Foolish. I work in this office here, with the window into yours,” he said, pointing his thumb over his shoulder at the rest of the tank behind him.

“Yeahhh, I kind of look over a lot of different researchers’ work. I’m kind of like a big deal. That Cucurucho guy? You know him? Yeah, he always wants to hang out, but I’m just so busy, I hardly even have the time for him, you know? Besides, I only really see him as a colleague. A coworker. Like someone who works under me. For me. He’s like my employee. Even though I know he wants more than that, I’ll just have to wait until my schedule allows. So busy, you know? Such is the life of a scientist.”

It really did speak English. And a lot of it… all at once.

“So is that kind of what you are? I like the bows, by the way. Very stylish. I think a job is 99% the outfit, so you’re already getting an ‘A.’ But I’m getting ahead of myself. I have no idea if I’m your boss or your partner or your coworker or just your neighbor, or what. Do you know? Is there a place for you in the heirar-- the higher-up-alarchy?”

I stared at him. He stared at me. I wondered if the green gems that served as his eyes were a biologically produced crystal or an addition, like a gastrolith. I wondered how much extra paperwork it would be to pull them out and take a look. Maybe I could have a little fun here after all.

“Hello,” I said. “My name is Elena. I am a researcher at the QSMP Research Bureau. I’m looking forward to our work together.”

“You can talk! You don’t have a face, but you talk even smoother than Cucurucho. Not smoother-- like, more like a person.”

“You seem to have an excellent grasp on rudimentary English, but I didn’t see it notated anywhere in this document that you’ve had any education programs since the Research Bureau took you in. Where did you learn to speak?”

“Yo hablo español también. My duolingo streak would impress you. I’ve even learned some from ol’ Rucho. Disfruta la isla. He sounds a little nicer in English, to me. I hope you enjoy the island . That’s a whole other untranslated clause, changing it from a command into a statement. Hope is espera , right? Espera tu disfrutas la isla? No, espera is wait . I remember. No, it’s-- it’s something similar…”

“Where did you learn to speak?” I repeated, trying not to sound annoyed. Getting annoyed at my subject wouldn’t do anything but cloud my research and slow me down. The sooner I could get this over with, the sooner I could get back to a project that the higher-ups actually cared about. There were no promotions hiding in this little office. I had to get to DRAGON, and I wasn’t about to let anyone get in my way. Least of all a fish.

“I don’t… Like, my parents? What do you want me to say?”

It didn’t really matter. I shouldn’t be wasting time following lines of questioning that would lead me nowhere. I opened the book again, rereading my task. It was simple, once you get past all the padding of Federation code and technical jargon: determine whether or not to release this specimen to the Island.

Chapter Text

I should’ve read the report more closely. Not only could the fish talk -- it could write . There were water stained pages, folded into the report as evidence. A name, a species, and an age in the hundred thousands-- what the hell was this thing? And more importantly, what kind of insane researcher had the guts to throw a book and pen into a tank of seawater?

They didn’t have any kind of training or experience, but they were obviously trying to make up for it. They were thorough-- way too thorough -- Cucurucho probably pulled the poor sucker out of here, just because of delays. Maybe not though-- someone had certainly taken a lot of time scrubbing the W-# from every single report stuffed into the desk drawers. There was no promotion hiding in this office, but there was definitely a demotion, hiding somewhere in these pages.

The specimen watched as I pulled out the books. I tried to stack them carefully at first, but the sheer amount was ridiculous. I ended up piling them haphazardly, just trying to make them fit on the surface without falling.

“Oh, you’re looking at Dr. 18’s reports? Yeah, he was QUITE the writer. Yup— oh wow — yeah— that was just one drawer? Jesus christ , man. That’s a lot of books. Yeah, he was really literate. Loved to write. He’s a really cool guy! Definitely my favorite employee, don’t tell anyone. We were really more research partners. I think he went on vacation or something— he deserved it, he seemed pretty stressed. Always so hard at work studying… seawater? I think? He needed my help because, you know, part shark. That’s why our offices are right next door. The federation really sees me as their oceanology expert. I consider myself an expert on pretty much everything.”

Vacation . Offices. Employee . Was it joking or just clueless? I couldn’t help but look at it, stare at the empty tank, crusted with salt. The creature smiled, and followed my gaze. 

“Oh, I guess it doesn’t really look like an office right now. I try to stay humble. It’s a new direction for me, in terms of houses. My old place was massive, but I’m a changed man. A real nine-to-fiver. Dr. 18 had to take most of the furniture he gave me with him when he went on his vacay. I used to have a coffee maker, but I don’t need it. I just kind of liked having it to really sell the whole office-vibe.”

I walked up to the glass between us as it spoke. And then I closed the curtain. I wanted to focus on the reports. I needed to focus.

“Oh! Okay. Okay,” It shouted, as if the curtain was a sound barrier at all. “No, that’s okay! I understand. Sometimes you just need a little privacy, that’s okay. You know, they actually forgot to install the curtain on my side, so there’s not exactly, you know, equality, but this works out. I was just about ready for some me-time anyway.”

Thank goodness . I opened up one of the journals. Redacted. I opened another-- redacted, too. Any of them that weren’t completely blacked out had their pages torn. Of course. I should’ve guessed. It seemed any relevant details had been torn out and put into the report Cucurcho had given me in the first place. This crack researcher probably collected nothing but useless, incorrect data that wouldn’t help me. Maybe they blacked them out just to slow me down. A test-- another test ! I would be starting from scratch-- 1ho knew how long this would take? And after I did, what would stop them from giving me another “last test,” and another?

I threw the book against the wall, only feeling slightly better as it thunked against the wall, sending scratched up pages fluttering out. I could see the shadow of the fish against the curtain, jumping back at the sound. I hadn’t even realized that it had been staring through a little gap, where the curtains didn’t quite meet. Nosy . Was nosiness enough reason to reject its island candidacy? 

I reached for the report-- already giddy at the thought of leaving this dump. Rejection was quick. Took half the time of approval. I could throw this fish out with the bathwater and move on to where I needed to go. I could move to the bottom level, the greatest honor a fed could achieve. 

My joy evaporated as I flipped through the noted traits-- ‘curiosity’ had already been marked. It wouldn’t be enough. 

I slumped back down into the chair. God, what a roller coaster. And the fish-- it was already swimming back to peek through the gap. Looking at me . I pulled out my gun and shot at the journal, crumpled in the corner. Just to see what would happen.

I was a scientist, after all. I could excuse this all as a test of auditory reaction. I had already seen it jump at a book against the wall. If it couldn’t handle the sound of a gun, then it couldn’t handle the sound the wall would make when it was activated. Now that was a quality reason to disqualify.

Three shots. My aim was precise, like I was trained. The smell of smoke and gunpowder filled the tiny concrete office and I was unbothered by the ringing in my ears and the burn in my grip. It didn’t matter how I felt. I wanted to see the specimen.

I tore away the curtain. It was staring, wide-eyed and-- that didn’t seem like curiosity -- that seemed like envy written across its face. It was looking at the gun in my hand.

“Can I have one of those?”

“Guns and ammo are reserved for federation employees with specific duties and ranks,” I recited. I always carried mine, like the employee handbook dictated. My gun was as much a part of the uniform as my white coat. 

“Can we look into, like, expanding my duties and ranks to include gun-level? I think I could definitely handle it. I know my way around it. I’m kind of a jiggle-peek master. ”
Jiggle-peek? That didn’t sound like the fundamentals I was trained in-- kickback, grip, safety, ear protection-- obviously he was lying. Guns were impossible to manufacture-- it was highly classified technology. No one in the world could get a gun without the Federation knowing about it-- let alone a fish. It would’ve been a pretty big deal if someone had dropped one into the ocean. I would’ve heard about it.

“Where?” I asked, trying to see how far the lie would go.

“Where did I learn to use a gun? I play a little Valorant. Yeah-- a little Immortal. Do you play?”
Immortal?

I suddenly realized what I was looking at. I hadn’t seen it before-- I had been blinded by the tank, by the fins and the gill, by the big sharp teeth. This wasn’t just a shark . This was something far more bizarre. I had never seen one in real life-- judging by the books I’d seen, I always assumed they’d be… well, smaller. Hand size. 

I jumped away from the tank, practically launching myself on the table, trying to find which of the books was the report Cucurucho had handed to me. I got about half way through, tossing the useless redacted journals over my shoulder before I remembered that I had stashed the important one in my coat. Stupid-- I couldn’t rush this. I shouldn’t make dumb mistakes. I fought the urge to tear through the report, looking for any mention of this I missed. Had that stupid 18 figured this out already? Did Cucurucho know? Each page-- shark, shark, shark-- no one knew! No one had figured it out!

That stupid 18-- that’s probably why they got fired. They had figured it out and were trying to find a way to use it himself! What kind of idiot wants to live forever? They probably blacked out all this research themself , after they got caught, just to keep anyone else from getting it. Cucurucho knew they were hiding something, but couldn’t figure out what it was-- so they sent me here. Finally , this stupid ‘final test’ made sense. The federation was desperate to know what that 18 was hiding. I’m the best there is, so of course they came to me. 

It would’ve been more convenient to try and torture it out of that 18, but I doubted the option was available. If he was still around, he was someone else’s job. It didn’t matter. There were other ways to prove it-- I needed samples. Samples from the specimen and something to test them against. 

I needed to get my hands on another totem.

Chapter Text

Unsurprisingly, they don’t keep a barrel full of rare, mystical Totems of Undying in the Federation storage room. Or the research library. Or the cafeteria. Or the janitor’s closet. If I wanted to get my hands on one… I would need to… ask for help … (*shudder*)

Asking Cucurucho was a last resort. I would ask every useless W-D in this building before I asked Cucurcho. It was wisest to start on the lowest level I could and work my way up, the more desperate I got. There had to be some researcher, somewhere, who had studied these. Besides, presumably, 18.

I tried next door. I knocked first, but the lack of sound inside was obvious. I opened it-- empty. Just concrete walls and floors and an empty desk. I was a little surprised to see that tank continued, behind the glass wall. I had assumed that the tank was only as wide as the room, but it seemed to continue along the whole row of offices and there was no telling how far back or how tall it was through the murky water. 

The specimen swam over, staring at me through the glass. It said nothing-- just stared with soulless, emerald eyes. It waved. 

The next office was empty, too. And the next. And the next. But right as I gave up on knocking, in favor of rushing into offices just to check-- of course , the next one was occupied. 

A late model W# jumped out of their seat, spilling a mug of steaming coffee over their white researcher coat and the soft yellow sweater they had underneath. They scrambled nervously with their pockets and pulled out a pad of paper with the Federation logo embossed in the corner.

“Good morning,” I said, as they began to scribble on the page. I looked around the little office-- not much different from my own, or any of the empty ones. A teal wood desk, with a harsh wooden chair behind it-- they had matching bookshelves, too. On the desk, a bird encyclopedia lay open to a page on some small, blue one-- it was hard to tell behind the puddle of spilled coffee, though. 

[Hello WA-002! I wasn’t expecting to see you this morning! I got the memo that you were arriving today, and you’d be staying in W-018’s old office. I was planning on stopping by later. Welcome to Level 01, I hope you enjoy your time here. I am WA-023. Did you need something?]

A23 had perfect handwriting, of course, but I read through the greeting slowly. Carefully. I wanted to take in every detail. It was strange, right? They didn’t say 18’s rank . That sucker had almost certainly been chucked down to a C rank, if not D rank-- but it must be a sensitive subject. 

“Hello,” I said. “It’s very nice to see you. I am sorry about your coffee.”

A23 seemed to have forgotten the coffee entirely. They jumped around, letting their coat flare out as they twirled-- just happy to be greeted politely. It was my one advantage: politeness. It was my ticket to Level 00, to the S rank. Charisma. Charm. Personality. It was the reason I wore ribbons in my fur and the reason I was bothering to chat with this research drone (who was obviously below me) instead of just demanding what I was after. It was the reason I got this far at all.

“I have a question in my research. Will you help me?”

[Oh! Are you studying Foolish like 18 was? I’ve been pretty busy with my own specimen, so I only know what I’ve seen from my office. But I can help any way I can!]
As if on cue, the specimen swam into view, looking even greener through the grimy glass in A23’s office. This was even stranger-- calling the specimen ‘Foolish--’ A23 seemed soft. I hoped, for their research’s sake, that it didn’t bleed into their work. 

“Thank you,” I said. A23 was delighted.

“It is unrelated to any specimen,” I lied. “I am looking for a rare item to dissect, in order to further my research. I was hoping you could help me find one.”

[Rare item, huh? I might be able to help. I know a guy. What is it?]

“Rare item? I love rare items!” the specimen shouted from behind the glass, in a flurry of bubbles. “What is it? Can I have one? I need to get more stuff-- there’s like, nothing down here. All I’ve had in my inventory for the past month is cod. Three raw cod-- there were more when I first got here, but I ate most of them-- Oh, I also have some kelp. I thought it might be helpful somehow, when I first got here-- like some kind of puzzle-- so I collected it all-- but I haven’t found a use for it yet. I know you can turn it into bone meal if you have a composter, but all bone meal would get me is more kelp-- besides, I don’t even have a composter--”

A23 handed me another sheet of paper.

[He ate the other fish in our aquarium :( and broke all the greenery. He apologized, but if you ask ME, I don’t think he’s a good fit for the island ecosystem. What if he eats all the other fish we approve? Besides, what kind of shark TALKS? A bird, I get-- because, like, PARROTS-- but a fish? It’s just weird. I think 18 was delaying rejection, to be honest, I think he got attached. He was always kind of sentimental like that.]

Rich coming from this softie. I already had my own theory as to why 18 was gone-- and it seemed more likely. Even if A23 had spent time with 18 (while I hadn’t), they were probably just projecting. Although, it was a little tempting to think that everyone-- including 18-- had missed for months what I had seen in a few minutes. Flattering, but it couldn’t be true. 

“Thank you for your advice,” I said. “I will take that into account when I move onto that specimen’s case. Before that, I’ll need to finish my research on the rare item.”

I pulled my own notepad from the pocket in my lab coat. ‘Although impressively extensive compared to older models, ‘Totem of Undying’ wasn’t in my word bank. Although, I guess it doubled as a blind for my test subject who was obviously hanging on every word. It was a liar-- I had no reason to believe it wouldn’t work against me, so it was better to leave it in the dark.

A23 looked at me for a long moment. They started to write.

[Totem of undying, huh? Someone has expensive tastes. Going through appropriate channels-- it would take months to even have a CHANCE at seeing one…]

“And through other channels?”

[They’re not free.]

“I understand.”

[It is very risky]

“Tell me.”

A23 waited a long moment. Staring eyelessly at me, as if there would be any expression to assess between us. I did not let my ears twitch. I didn’t break their stare. I wouldn’t show any weakness.

[Here’s the deal: I get you the totem. You get me a prettier view out of my office. Fish. Coral. Plants. Bubbles. The whole nine yards. Neither of us breathe a word to Cucurucho. If (and when) you get off this level, up or down, you do me a favor: Keep the big bosses out of my business, okay? I’m happy at floor 1-- I’m not interested in moving into the basement. I’m not interested in guard duty. I’ll keep doing my good work and everyone will be happy.]

That seemed… more than reasonable. Practically a steal! But of course, another page came.

[And…  you’ll let me watch that dissection. Proofread your report, if you know what I mean... I want in.]

There it was. Of course, you couldn’t go tossing words like “undying” around without someone begging to be cut into the deal. I did not want this ambitionless A-level to drag me down, but there weren’t exactly a lot of other options. If I went barging into the next office now , there was guarantee that anyone would react so discreetly as A23. 

It was still a good deal. I could bullshit the dissection-- find a way to make it look like a failure-- shake my head disappointed and say it was time to go back to the drawing board. This guy clearly didn’t get out much, how hard could it be to trick them?