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“WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM??!?”
“n-no, no…” Marvin had sunk to the ground, forcing his captor to bend over so he wouldn’t choke him. “i-i swear, this isn’t what it looks like…”
“THEN TELL ME WHERE FLOWER BOY IS!!!”
“i-i-i don’t know!!”
“LIAR!!! TELL ME!!”
“Gahh, he’s, he’s fine!!!” Marvin was sobbing with a fear like none he had ever known before. “h-he’s okay i swear!!! he’s not even, he doesn’t even…!”
Martin was at his last nerve. He slammed Marvin head first into the ground, pinning him there, no longer caring whether he hurt him. “TELL ME. WHERE. HE IS.”
Marvin’s good eye, streaming with tears, stared blindly at the static sky before focusing on Martin standing by in silence. Foot on Marvin’s neck.
He pressed down.
“AKK!!” he screamed in terror. “left! he’s left!! The judge took him.”
“The judge….?”
martin snapped. The only sane one in this hellhole has been captured by that bald bastard. Most likely to be executed.
“YOU MISERABLE PIECE OF SHIT,” martin sobbed. “YOU KILLED MY FRIEND!! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”
Marvin had shrunk away, almost out of sight, taking every word all too seriously. Yet, at the same time, he had to right his wrongs.
“That’s enough,” marvin pleaded. “Martin, let’s just get out of here. You’re not—you’re not thinking straight.”
Martin whirled on him. “DON’T FUCKING TALK TO ME, YOU SUICIDAL NUT!!” He turned back to the Marvin, panting. “Why didn’t you speak up?? Did the judge ask you not to tell? Did he?? Did he ask you to keep the fact you caused this a secret?”
Martin started crying.
“You idiot,” he whispered. “You idiot. Look where we are. Was it worth it? Was this—” he gestured at everything, the sacrine hellhole around them, interrupted only by that god forsaken song, which he completely ignored— “was summoning him worth you not hurting your feelings? Huh?? What about Flower boy, was what happened to him worth you hiding the fact you killed yourself, the fact you caused me and the others to be born?? Was it???”
“Martin, that’s enough,” asserted Martin. His whole body was throbbing, on the account of his severed arm. “We need to get out of here.”
“I know, that our problems right now are far greater than just the hell we’re in. But staying here is not helping anything. And… martin, do you have a headache? Or is it just me?”
“What makes you think I have a fucking headache??” Martin demanded. “I’m just mad, you idiot! What the hell do you not understand about—”
“I know you’re mad,” marvin assured him. “I—I’m asking if your head hurts. And, like… your whole body, kind of. Do you… do you feel like you’re being crushed? Your head looks really swollen.”
“What??” Martin stared at him, unsettled. “…Are you mocking me??”
“No,” marvin managed, tired and hurting. “I think something’s wrong. There’s blood coming out your eyes.”
“Wh—there’s blood pouring out my—do you hear yourself right now?!! How the fuck are you thinking about my eyes at a time like this-“
SPLAT!
Everything is collapsing.
The static sky fractures, sending out a horrible, piercing sound. The greater campus cracks, its metal frames crumbling into dust. The mounds of flesh and gristle writhe and convulse, screaming in agony as the sky tears apart at the seams.
martin is dead. Jerry killed him.
Marvin stands in the middle of it all—bloodied, exhausted, but standing.
Across from him, Jerry looms, his body glitching and warping. His limbs bend unnaturally, his grin stretching too wide, all teeth. His right eye, rotted, now shifts like static, distorting in and out of existence. His helmet cracks.
And still, through it all—Jerry laughs.
“You still don’t get it, do you?”
“This fight? It doesn’t matter.”
“You can scream, you can cry, you can fight until your body breaks, But in the end, Marvin…”
His grin widens. “You’re fucking high.” Marvin’s hands clench into fists.His body is shaking not with fear, but with something deeper. A pressure in his chest. A weight he has carried his entire life.Pain. Rage. Grief. And then—
He SCREAMS.
It is raw. It is unfiltered.A scream torn from the depths of his soul—echoing across the Aethos, shaking the very foundation of reality.The static sky shatters.From the cracks—light spills through.And then they appear.
Versions of himself.
Hundreds. Thousands.
Marvins from every path he never got to take. From every future he was denied. From every one of those wretched cloning grounds. They are not ghosts. They are not illusions. They are hope.
And together—they rise. A golden energy erupts from them, swirling around Marvin, surging into his veins, filling every broken part of him. Jerry’s smile falters. For the first time—his eyes flicker with something that almost looks like fear. The golden energy coalesces. It rises, twisting and forming into A massive, burning fist.
It glows with everything Jerry could never take from him. Marvin grips his hands into fists. He feels the warmth of every version of himself standing beside him. And then—
He swings.
𝘉𝘖𝘖𝘔!
The first impact lands with thunderous force.Jerry chokes as the air explodes with golden light, his body bending unnaturally from the blow.The impact sends cracks rippling through the battlefield.But Marvin isn’t done. He swings again.
And again.
And again.
With every punch—he fights back against every hateful word, every wound, every moment of self-doubt.his arm swells, his heart feels like it’s gonna break in half, beating his fists like drums crashing like war cries as the golden light engulfs everything.Jerry shrinks with every hit. His limbs snap back to normal size, his glitches worsen. His once-playful smirk twists into horror.
Until finally—
He collapses. A broken, trembling heap of what he once was. His edges flicker, his pixels unraveling, as the golden energy burns through the last remnants of his corruption. The monster wearing his sons skin. And yet He still laughs.
It’s weak, ragged, but there. His grin—hollow.“You think this changes anything, Marvin prime?”Marvin breathes hard. He doesn’t answer.Jerry wipes his mouth, his hands shaking. And then…
His expression darkens.
His body flickers—slower this time. More stable.His smile returns.And Marvin watches—his stomach twisting—as Jerry reaches into his pocket. And pulls out
That damn ball.
The world glitches violently. The golden light shudders. Marvin’s stomach drops. Jerry grips the 8 Ball tight. And the moment he does—his body stabilizes. The cracks in his face heal. The tremors in his hands stop. Jerry is dead. All that remains, is Aetheon.
It rolls the 8 Ball between it’s new hosts’ fingers, smirking. “You really thought you could win?” It’s voice is cold. “You’ll never be real, Marvin.”“No matter how hard you fight, how much you scream, You will always be a fucking joke.”
The golden glow fades. The battlefield darkens.the beast pulls something out of its pocket. A strangely familiar item. One from the past. One from that god awful day.
a black light.
“Just a fucking faggot playing pretend.”
The black light burns his skin. Patches of his flesh, rotted away. Only leaving bones. Marvin flinches. His pulse stops.
“The deed, is done.
Aetheon’s voice rips through the silence. The world collapses.Aetheon steps forward, still gripping the 8 Ball. And then—
His voice changes.
It sounds the same. But not at the same time. It’s no longer jerrys.
It becomes Jeffy’s.
“Daddy… please… don’t hurt me…” Marvin freezes. “Daddy, I’m sorry…” His eyes widen. “Don’t leave me…” His breathing quicks. His hands shake.Jerry smirks. His body flickers, twisting. His form shifts. Marvin sees what truly happened.
Jeffy had been talking for the past thirty minutes. Marvin wasn’t listening.
He sat on the couch, staring at the floor, hands clasped between his knees. His leg bounced up and down—a nervous tic, one he hadn’t even noticed at first. The air in the house felt thick, heavy, like it was pressing down on him.
Jeffy kept going, oblivious. “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy! Guess what? I put a Cheerio in my nose, and then it came out my butt!”
No response. Jeffy frowned, leaning closer. “Did you hear me? A whole-ass Cheerio! In my nose! And out my butt!”
Nothing.
“Daddy?”
Silence.
Jeffy huffed, pouting. “You’re bein’ real quiet. You mad at me or somethin’?” Still, Marvin didn’t answer.
He wasn’t mad. He wasn’t anything.
Just empty.
Jeffy waved a hand in front of Marvin’s face. “Hello? Daddy? Anyone in there?” Marvin blinked, just once. His eyes focused on Jeffy, dull and tired, like looking through a fog. He opened his mouth, but no words came.
Jeffy’s smirk faltered. “…You okay?” Marvin swallowed. His throat was dry. He forced a small nod.
Jeffy stared at him for a moment, tilting his head. “You sure? You look like Mommy when she’s aboutta cry watchin’ one of them soap operas.”
A pause.
Then—
“Go play in your room, Jeffy.”
It came out flat.
Jeffy hesitated. “Just—” Marvin’s voice cracked. He ran a hand through his what remained of his hair, exhaling sharply. “Please. Go to your room.”
That time, Jeffy obeyed.The sound of his bedroom door shutting felt like a gunshot.
Silence.
Just silence.
The living room light flickered. Marvin’s hands trembled as he sat at the kitchen table, staring at the rope in front of him.
He wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting there. Time felt warped. Stretched.
He had thought about it before. A thousand times. In passing, in fleeting moments, in the dead of night when sleep wouldn’t come. But now, it wasn’t a thought anymore.
It was real. The weight of it settled over his shoulders, pressing down until it felt like he couldn’t breathe. Marvin leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, hands gripping his hair. His chest ached. His ribs felt tight.
His mind was loud.
So fucking loud.
You’re a failure.
You’re worthless.
You were never supposed to be here.
His stomach churned. His breathing hitched. The walls of the house felt like they were closing in, suffocating, pressing against him until there was no way out. He squeezed his eyes shut.
He couldn’t do this anymore.
The rope hung from the ceiling. Marvin’s hands were steady now. It was the only thing that felt right.
The chair wobbled slightly as he stepped onto it. He exhaled slowly.
One deep breath.
Another. His fingers traced the fibers of the noose before slipping it over his head.
A perfect fit.
His vision blurred. His heart pounded. He thought about Rose. About Jeffy. About Brooklyn Guy. He thought about the times he had laughed, really laughed, and how they felt like memories from another life.
He thought about the times he had wanted to live. But the past always came back. The hurt always crept in. The pain never left. Marvin sucked in a breath.
And kicked the chair.
The moment of weightlessness was the worst part. A second where the world slowed, and his body hovered, and for just a fraction of time—he felt like he was flying.
Then—Agony.
The rope burned against his throat. The weight of his body yanked downward, choking, crushing. His lungs screamed. His legs kicked instinctively, searching for ground that wasn’t there. His fingers clawed at the rope.
The pain blurred. His vision darkened. Somewhere, distant, he thought he heard Jeffy’s voice.
“Hey daddy, ITS WEINER TAHM!”
A pause.
Then, louder—frantic—
“I SAID, IT’S WEINER TAHM!”
His bedroom door creaked open. Footsteps.
Silence. Then—
A scream.
“MOMMY!” The world was already fading. His body was still fighting, but his mind was slipping.
Somewhere in the distance, a door slammed open. A voice—Brooklyn Guy’s?—yelled something. Hands grabbed him.
Then—
Nothing.
His heartbeat races. No. Not again.
“Just let go, Marvin.” Aetheon’s voice soothes. “It’s easier.”
Marvin’s vision sharpens.His breathing slows.
The ambulance lights painted the night in red and blue.
The stretcher rolled past Rose in a blur. Marvin’s body lay still beneath the harsh fluorescent glow. An oxygen mask covered his face. Machines beeped, monitors flashing numbers she didn’t understand.
Rose sat in the back of the ambulance, hands clasped in her lap, eyes locked on Marvin’s unmoving face. She wasn’t crying. She couldn’t cry. She couldn’t process what was happening.
She had always known Marvin struggled. She had seen the way he flinched at certain words, the way he stared at nothing sometimes, lost in memories he never spoke about.
She should have asked.
She should have been there.
A large hand wrapped around hers.
She looked up.
Jeffy.
His face was pale, his eyes red-rimmed but dry. He wasn’t crying either.
“Is Daddy gonna wake up?”
The question was small. Too small. Rose squeezed his hand, forcing a smile that felt like it would shatter.
“He has to.”
Jeffy looked back at Marvin, silent for a long moment.
“…I don’t want him to go.”
Neither did she. But Marvin was already gone.
Falling.
Somewhere she couldn’t follow.
“NO MORE—NO MORE CONTROL!”
With everything left in his body, He RIPS the 8 Ball from aetheon’s hands. Its vessel stumbles back.
“Wait—”
"I AM SO FUCKING TIRED OF THIS SHIT!"
With every ounce of rage, exhaustion, and sheer spite left in his body—
He raised the Eight Ball high above his head—
AND SLAMMED IT INTO THE GROUND.
𝘊𝘙𝘈𝘊𝘒!
The plastic shell shattered. The dark, inky liquid splattered everywhere. The glowing red triangle flickered violently—then fizzled out.
And then—
The Eight Ball let out a final, dying wail.
"NOOOOOOOOoooooo…!"
And with that—it was gone.
Aetheon SCREAMS.
The light swallowed everything.
Aetheon’s scream distorted into a garbled mess, jerry’s dead body flickering like a broken signal. Its smug grin finally cracked, its limbs twisting as the data of it’s form unraveled, lines of code splitting apart like frayed thread.
Marvin stood over it, his breath ragged, his fists still clenched. His chest heaved, but his body felt... light. Not empty. Not hollow.
Just light.
The world around them disintegrated—flesh-like hills crumbling, the sky peeling away like burnt paper, revealing the irida beneath. A vast void of golden echoes, voices of the past and future whispering softly, like waves crashing on a distant shore.
Jerry’s body awoke from his slumber. voice still oozed with venom.
“You think this changes anything?”
“You’ll always be broken.”
“No one will ever really love you.”
His voice faltered, static crackling through his words. He let out a final, distorted chuckle.
“See you in hell, father.”
And then—he was gone.
The silence that followed was deafening. The irida pulsed, a warm, golden light stretching outward. The corrupted world was gone. All that remained was Marvin.
His body wavered. His eyelids grew heavy. The golden glow dimmed.
And then—
Everything faded to black.
Beep.
A sharp, rhythmic beeping.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Marvin’s fingers twitched. His breathing hitched. His head felt heavy, fogged, like he was trying to claw his way out of thick tar.
Then—he heard a voice.
A voice that wasn’t Jerry’s.
A voice that was real.
"Marvin?"
His eyes fluttered open.
At first, everything was too bright. His vision blurred, his brain struggling to process what he was seeing. But then, as the light settled—
Rose.
She was sitting by his bedside, gripping his hand so tightly her knuckles were white. Her eyes were red and puffy, her cheeks damp with tears. But she was smiling.
"You’re awake," she whispered, her voice breaking.
Marvin swallowed. His throat was dry, raw, like he hadn’t spoken in days. He tried to say something, but all that came out was a cracked breath.
Then—he felt another presence.
A shadow in the doorway.
Brooklyn Guy stood there, arms crossed, looking... exhausted. His usual snark was gone, replaced with something softer.
"Jesus, dude," Brooklyn muttered, shaking his head. "You scared the hell out of us."
Marvin blinked, his brain still catching up. The beeping of the heart monitor filled the silence.
"Where...?" His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.
Rose squeezed his hand tighter.
"You were in a coma," she said gently. "You—" Her voice caught, and she took a shaky breath. "You scared me."
A coma.
Marvin’s head spun. His memories flickered—the Aethos, the fight, Jerry’s voice digging into his brain, the moment he crushed the 8 Ball into the ground. The irida.
"It... it wasn’t real?" he mumbled, his throat tight.
Silence.
Then—
"It was real to you," Rose said softly.
Marvin swallowed hard, his fingers curling weakly into the blanket. He felt like he should be relieved. Like he should be grateful to be here, awake, alive.
But all he felt was tired.
And then—
"Daddy?"
The voice was small.
Uncertain.
Marvin’s breath hitched as he slowly turned his head toward the door.
Jeffy.
He wasn’t wearing his helmet. His hair was messy, his cheeks still damp from crying. In his large hands, he clutched a crumpled piece of paper.
His grip was tight.
Like he was afraid to let go.
"Are you okay?" Jeffy asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Marvin opened his mouth. No words came out. He didn’t know what to say.
So, instead—he nodded.
Jeffy sniffled. He hesitated, staring at the floor like he was gathering his courage. Then, he stepped forward and held out the paper.
"I made you somethin’," he mumbled.
Marvin took it with unsteady hands, unfolding it carefully.
It was a drawing.
A messy, crayon-colored picture of two people—Marvin and Jeffy—standing together. Above them, in big, uneven letters, Jeffy had written:
"YOU MAY BE FUCKING HIGH, BUT YOU’RE STILL MY DADDY."
But there was something else.
Jeffy had drawn Marvin... as a superhero.
A big cape. A glowing fist. A determined smile. And hair.
Just like what Marvin dreamed the day jeffy was dropped off.
Marvin stared at it, his throat tightening.
"You’re my hero, Daddy," Jeffy whispered. Something inside Marvin broke.
Tears welled up in his eyes, slipping down his face before he could stop them. His hands trembled as he reached forward—pulling Jeffy into the tightest hug.
Jeffy didn’t hesitate.
He clung to Marvin, burying his face in his hospital gown, sniffling against the fabric. Marvin held him like he would disappear if he let go.
Tears streamed down his face. But this time—
They didn’t feel like they were drowning him-
Brooklyn Guy kicked the door open.
"ALRIGHT, LISTEN UP, FOLKS!" he bellowed, pointing dramatically at Marvin. "YOU may have survived a coma, but I just had the weirdest fucking experience in the hospital break room!"
Marvin blinked. "…What?"
Brooklyn Guy marched in, holding up something small and round in his hand.
A black, plastic Eight Ball.
𝘛𝘩𝘦 Eight Ball.
The same one Jerry had used.
Marvin's soul left his body.
"Where the fuck did you get that?" he hissed, eyes wide.
Brooklyn Guy shrugged. "Oh, I found it just sittin’ there in the break room, right next to the trash can. Thought, ‘Hey, free Magic 8-Ball!’ But then this little asshole started whispering to me."
Marvin’s stomach dropped.
"Whispering?"
Brooklyn Guy nodded. "Yeah, real creepy shit! Like ‘Ooooh, snort me, you miserable little worm! Don’t you want unlimited power?’ And y’know, at first I was like, ‘Damn, this is just like when my wife tells me to pay the bills.’ But then it started calling me by my full name."
Marvin went pale.
The Eight Ball twitched in Brooklyn Guy’s hand. The red triangle inside began to glow.
A deep, sultry voice emerged.
"Brooklyn T. Guy… don’t you want a taste? Just a little sniff? It’ll make all your problems go away…"
Brooklyn Guy frowned. "See? That right there? That’s some demon shit."
Marvin launched himself out of bed.
"DROP IT!" he screamed.
Brooklyn Guy flinched but held up a hand. "Alright, alright! No need to get your hospital gown in a twist. I was just about to ask it a question first!"
Before Marvin could tackle him, Brooklyn Guy shook the Eight Ball and read the answer.
"Let’s see… 'aww shucks.' Well, fuck you too!" He scoffed. "Stupid thing, acting like my mom-“
BANG!
jeffy himself, shot the eight ball.
Brooklyn Guy stared at the pile of shattered plastic, his hands on his hips.
"Damn." He sighed. "That was my only Magic 8-Ball."
Jeffy, panting, licked the liquid on the floor. Can’t waste good coke .
Brooklyn Guy sat down beside him, nudging the broken pieces with his foot.
"Y’know," he mused, "that thing probably wasn’t FDA-approved."
Marvin closed his eyes.
He was so fucking done.