Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Let it be known that Autumn was a perpetual hater.

She hated her name. Why a season, of all things?

She hated college. She hated assignments. She hated homework.

She hated her country. America was certainly not the land of the free as of right now.

She hated the current state of the economy. She hated her landlord.

She hated slaving away at a dead-end white collar job, typing until her hands ached, downing bitter coffee just to stay awake for five more seconds, sitting on her bed budgeting her already insubstantial meals so she would have enough money for rent.

She hated how she had no friends. She hated how her parents pitied her.

She hated herself. Her pathetic, useless self, stuck in a dead end, wasting her youth away, contributing nothing to society, just another cog in the endless, mercilessly churning machine of corporate enslavement.

She hated so intensely it felt like a physical affliction. And she hated that, too.

The only thing she didn’t hate was her games.

They were her way out when it became too hard to live. She would turn her shitty laptop on and just fake it until she made it. Roblox, Minecraft, gacha games, it didn’t matter. She threw herself into whatever she was playing with a reckless abandon, desperate to feel something other than crushing resentment. So when a Roblox game started trending, invading even her carefully curated for you page, she picked it up immediately, eager for something new.

At first glance, Forsaken was just another asymmetrical one-on-eight survive-the-killer game. What caught her attention, though, wasn’t the fan media or the gameplay, but rather one of the characters.

1x1x1x1.

Autumn wasn’t ashamed to admit she was a lore reader. She was among the few people who sat through dialogue and analyzed storylines during their free time. For every game with an in-universe information system, she had collected every letter, every book, every faded tablet and bound scroll, and read them all, clicking through archives in the dead of night as her eyes burned from the strain.

So when she had gone to buy a new survivor after playing a few rounds, the short info section above the stats had immediately caught her eye.

Forsaken’s lore was very interesting. Most of the survivors were iconic Roblox figures, like Builderman, the Last Guest, and Elliot to an extent. It was a refreshing change of pace from the usually OC-dominated casts of choose-your-character games. 007n7 was c00lkid’s dad, a unique spin on the actual truth that brought a smile to her face. It was the killers where things got juicy, though.

Jason Voorhees was nothing new - she’d already done a deep dive on him. But she did appreciate how he was kept silent. John Doe, though, now that was some crazy stuff. Ripped from his life and wife with no warning, stuck being slowly parasitized by some old, corrupt code while it drove him to kill? Man, that had to suck. And c00lkid being unaware he was killing, but rather thinking he was playing tag, his memories erased every time he started to become aware of his bloodied circumstances? Holy hell, the Forsaken devs knew how to fuck shit up.

And then she got to 1x.

It felt like looking in a mirror, almost. Shedletsky’s creation of hatred, born to loath, made to rage, molded by forces outside of their control. Never happy, barely living, chains a constant motif throughout their abilities — shackling their legs during Mass Infection, wound around their arms as they pried their ribs open to Rejuvenate the Rotten.

How could Autumn not favor them?

She poured hours of playtime into the game, saving, scraping, never spending on anything besides 1x. She bought their skins, trained her aim, kept persistently playing them no matter how many rounds she lost. Eventually, things turned around for her. She got better. Smarter. More reactive to jukes, more tactical about baiting slashes and blocks, faster at dodging parries and shots. She learned how to predict survivors, downloaded Flow Free to do generators quicker for more malice, and figured out how to loop the most effectively, not only so she could win as a survivor but so she could reverse engineer it for her times as killer. Her win/loss ratios quickly flipped from 1-3 to 3-1.

She even picked up drawing again just so she could do 1x justice. She pushed through anatomy studies by sheer force of will, gritting her teeth as she repeated to herself that it was all so she could make the best drawing of her beloved main.

She slowly improved, first over weeks as she practiced drawing boxes and circles patiently, then rapidly as she began refining her art style, sketching madly every hour of the day, her mechanical pencil continuously clicking, 1x her muse.

Slowly, more and more drawings were pasted onto her walls instead of crumpled and thrown into the trash. It felt like she had reached the final stage of her obsession. Detailed depictions of 1x littered her bedroom. She owned every one of their skins bar the holiday exclusive ones, and won almost all her matches using them. Hell, she kinned them and read fanfiction about them on AO3.

It was getting out of hand, she mused as she booted up her Forsaken private server. Some recurring players she kept beating had demanded rematches, so she had invited them to hop on and face her again.

Upon loading in, she was surprised to see a bright pop-up on her screen, consisting of 1x’s signature neon green and black. There was no X in the top right corner. The pop-up read, “wanna hop on in the REAL deal and pwn some losers? ;)”

The options were “Yes” and “blame john!!”, which didn’t leave her with much of a choice in the matter, so she clicked the blame John option and the pop-up closed itself.

A few moments of inactivity passed, but Autumn knew better than to let her guard down. She had read too many self-insert works to be fooled that easily. Sure enough, her screen glitched out before turning dark, and her whole room dimmed.

BE NOT AFRAID was displayed in white letters on her screen.

“Respectfully, you just broke my laptop. I had my multi-thousand-word essay on that, you know, and it’s due in two days. I’m very afraid for my future.”

YOUR LAPTOP IS NOT BROKEN, came the quick reassurance. I AM MERELY BORROWING THE SCREEN FOR COMMUNICATION.

“Oh,” she breathed out a sigh of relief. “I’m guessing this has something to do with that pop-up I just closed?” She asked, despite already knowing the answer.

DO NOT ASK QUESTIONS YOU DO NOT NEED ANSWERED, came the reply.

“Worth a try,” she shrugged. “So you’re here to offer me payment for incarnating into Forsaken or whatever?”

YES, the being answered. READ THIS CONTRACT.

Sure enough, a paper copy of the contract materialized in front of her. Autumn did read the thing several times, unlike most isekai protagonists, because she wasn’t fucking stupid, and everything checked out. No loopholes, no unspecified conditions, everything from the payment to the hours was outlined in low-quality ink. One hour in Forsaken was two minutes here. Spend thirty-five hours in Forsaken every week to get a fat paycheck that was already processed and exempted from tax. The longer she held the job, the more perks she would receive, like the private server admin panel or her phone. The better she did, the better her pay for that week. She was limited to possessing one specific killer and survivor, although if Forsaken added any more, she could opt to switch to the newest character after the corresponding update had passed.

She would be free to come and go as she pleased. The Specter was not a part of the offer in any way, shape, or form, and in fact, the being cutting her this deal was gunning to piss it off as much as possible. She could request items from Forsaken while in the real world as long as they related to her two chosen characters, like asking for slateskin potions if she chose Noob or a machete if she chose Jason, and they would arrive fully intact and functional. Lastly, if she wanted to request any changes be made to the contract at any point in time, she was allowed to attempt negotiation with her employer.

Nothing was restricting her from acting out of character, improving the survivors’ quality of life, or any of that. She assumed this was because, again, her employer wanted to anger the Specter.

Oh yes, she thought, looking down at the unassuming stapled papers in her lap. This is what I like to see.

Without hesitation, she signed her name off with a flourish, and the contract disappeared in a flash of light.

I LOOK FORWARD TO WORKING WITH YOU, her employer said before their presence withdrew. Instantly, her room brightened, her laptop began working again, and the strange hush that had fallen over the world lifted.

The UI on the left of her screen had shifted upward, and there was now one more button neatly slotted in under settings. It was a simple laptop symbol, and she clicked on it without hesitation. Thirty-five hours in Forsaken was an hour and ten minutes here, and she always had Mondays free.

Another UI appeared, this one a box on their screen divided into two. One side was labeled killer, the other survivor, and both contained dropdown menus beneath the text. In the middle was the submit button.

Immediately, she clicked on the dropdown menu for killers and locked in 1x. Then she looked over to the survivors.

It was pretty hard to choose because she didn’t pay attention to anyone else besides 1x and therefore Shedletsky by association, someone she was not going to touch with a five foot pole due to his close-knit friendship with the other admins, along with his exuberant personality, which would take too much effort to fake. She ended up going with 007n7 because he was isolated and disliked, so nobody would notice if he acted weird for a bit. She felt sorry for him and sort of guilty about her reasons for picking him, but it wasn’t like she would ever possess him when she had the choice of 1x instead, so she got over it soon enough.

Upon clicking submit, the window closed itself. Autumn paused for a moment, confused, before deciding to reopen it again. The two sides of the box were still labeled killer and survivor, but the dropdown menus had been replaced with the names of her chosen characters, complete with themes. 1x’s name was that one specific green glitchy design, and gave off the impression of dripping shadows, much like their twin dæmonshanks. The left part of 007n7’s name was seemingly corrupted by the same texture present on 1x’s name, except colored red to symbolize c00lkid. A small replica of his burger hat hung off the corner of the last seven in his name.

Beneath their names were two pictures of them, a portrait and a full body. These pictures appeared not to be their in-game models, but rather what seemed to be black and white artist’s depictions, drawn with simple graphite, of what they would look like in the Forsaken universe she was going to be entering.

1x was, surprisingly enough, conventionally attractive instead of just a shadowy blob, with high cheekbones, an angular jaw, and a sculpted nose. Their pitch black hair, barely visible if not for the artist texturing it differently, wasn’t overgrown, unlike their Betrayed skin. It was just long enough to brush their shoulders, framing their face artfully, their domino crown sitting lightly among the dark locks. But there was something about their expression that screamed, “I do not want to look like this”. Their portrait was captured from a simple right view, 1x seemingly tilting their head to gaze at the viewer with their glowing eye. Their full body was a simple front view of them in their default idle stance. They were well-built with a narrow waist, obviously fit, and seemed unclothed, but Autumn got the impression that they weren’t naked either. There was a neat note on the side of the full body that read “body is too obscured for details to be observed”, likely referencing their weird glowing effect that seemed to suck in and project light all at once.

007n7 just seemed tired. The artist had taken care to give him a sort of fatigued air. His posture was a tad too slumped, his face too blank, his eyes belying the cloying turmoil underneath. His shoulders were broad, his build nothing to look at, but Autumn could tell he was healthy. He wore the same outfit he did in-game, just as actual clothing rather than colored limbs: a sleeveless blue shirt with a weird-looking PNG of some ambiguous creature and grey pants. Rather than being bald, a few strands of hair peeked out from beneath his burger hat, although the majority of it was kept beneath the bottom bun. 007n7’s portrait was drawn from a left view and showed him tilting his head upwards. A shadow was cast across half of his face, and the lighting in the drawing seemed to bring out the stress lines at the corners of his mouth. His full body was also a front shot, but he was standing almost listlessly in the render, as if he didn’t know what to do with himself. A small sketch of the c00lgui displaying a :P face was drawn beside him, with the caption “he misses that innocent version of his kid every day”.

Done examining the (frankly depressing) drawings, Autumn turned her attention to the real star of the show: two simple buttons beneath the drawings, both labeled “get big money!!". She clicked the one for 1x and pushed her laptop out of the way, putting both arms on the table and laying her head down in them. Just as she scooted a bit closer to the table, a wave of drowsiness overtook her, and she slipped into sleep between one breath and the next.

When she awoke, something was off. She was lying down in a bed, for one. For another, her hair felt much shorter. She sat up and lifted a hand to brush her new bangs out of her face, confused, before faltering at the sight of her hands, a strange effect rippling over her now much more callused palms.

Her surprise quickly turned into excitement when she remembered what she had been doing.

She was 1x! She was actually 1x!

She sprang out of bed and threw open the door in the corner of her room, relieved to discover it was a bathroom. Hurrying over to the mirror, she checked herself out. Or tried to, at least.

Man, the artist wasn’t kidding about that light effect obstructing everything. Autumn could vaguely make out her (or was it ‘their’ now? yeah, she should probably start using 1x’s pronouns) hair if she squinted hard enough, but holy eyestrain, it was a pain to even try.

So they didn’t bother, instead grabbing the hairbrush on the sink counter before brushing their hair. It was a nice break for them to process their situation before having to deal with everything else, and 1x’s hair needed urgent help, as evidenced by the truly baffling amount of knots and tangles they had to work out. By the end, there was an unfortunate amount of shed hair covering their hands, but Autumn was finally satisfied.

Since they didn’t feel the need to go to the bathroom at all, or the presence of any parts that would allow for typical bodily functions, they decided to head out of the bedroom and explore. They made their way out of the bathroom, only pausing for a bit to examine 1x’s room because it was incredibly bare bones, before easing the other door open and gently shutting it behind them.

They were greeted with the sight of a hallway. To the left, two more doors were present, one on each side, before the hall transitioned into an archway. Beyond it, they could hear the ticking of a clock, so they assumed that way was the rest of the living space. To the right, the hallway seemed to stretch infinitely, doors with blank nameplates appearing periodically throughout. It was clear that those rooms were for unreleased killers.

Turning away from the trippy sight, Autumn blinked upon noticing the name on the door in front of them. John Doe was embossed neatly onto the plate, with a plain knocker underneath. Turning around revealed roughly the same thing, the nameplate reading 1x1x1x1 with a knocker underneath as well. Turning to the left, they headed to the second set of doors. Jason, on the same side as John Doe, was also equipped with a plain knocker. c00lkid, the door across from it proclaimed, and the knocker was a drakobloxxer eating its tail.

Wait that’s actually so cute, they internally cooed, staring at the metalwork for a moment more before snapping out of it and heading out into the house.

It was laid out like a typical two-story suburban house, minus the infinitely extending hallway that the staircase led to. The architecture was surprisingly normal, with faded yellow walls giving the place a bit of subtle color, and the doorways and other fixtures were painted white. The floor was oak with a nice finish, and their steps fell solidly on the planks. It was strangely domestic. All that was needed to complete the picture would be a loving partner cooking up some sizzling food and a yawning kid sitting at the kitchen island.

Lo and behold, there was indeed a yawning kid sitting at the kitchen island.

c00lkid blinked once, twice.

“Mister 1x?” His voice was strangely artificial, layers of autotune hiding the harsh whispers echoing his words. But it was still soft, pitched in a way that belied his youth.

“What,” they said flatly, walking over to the fridge. It bothered them, being this curt with a ten-year-old, but 1x wouldn’t have softened their tone for anyone or anything.

c00lkid didn’t seem bothered, though. “Are you gonna cook?”

“Yes,” they replied, browsing to see what they had to work with. They were no culinary genius, their options heavily limited by their lack of money, but they could make a decent meal if need be, years of doing their share of chores ingraining simple cooking into their memory.

“...can I have pancakes?” came the slightly hesitant question.

“Sure,” they agreed easily.

“Yay!” c00lkid cheered, even going so far as throwing his hands up. And Autumn couldn’t help but stare at that childish display of joy.

God, he was so innocent. Just a kid stuck in this hellhole against his will, manipulated and lied to until he believed it was fine. Living in a gilded cell, let out to hunt occasionally, but still caged. Still collared.

Autumn forced themselves to stop staring and instead get all of the ingredients and dishes out. Pancakes were easy, pancakes were good. Focus on making food right now and have an existential crisis about just how scummy the Specter was later.

They made the batter, pouring some syrup in because children deserve sweet things, buttered the pan, and cooked the pancakes one by one, plating them as they finished until there was a decent stack on the plate. They poured some more syrup, sliced off a square of butter and put it on top, and slid the entire thing plus utensils in front of c00lkid, setting the syrup beside the plate in case he wanted more at any point.

“Woahhhh!” was the only response they got before c00lkid dug in, although it wasn’t like they minded. As 1x’s body had no need for food and Autumn didn’t particularly want to eat at that moment, they set the rest of the batter and butter aside along with the pan and cleaned up everything else. When they turned around, c00lkid was just finishing the last pancake.

After a loud swallow, c00lkid sprang from his seat and shot like a rocket towards Autumn, who only managed to catch him thanks to 1x’s muscle memory. Realizing they were holding the kid like that one monkey held Simba, they loosened their grip and were promptly glomped.

“Thank you thank you thank you so much!!!” c00lkid enthusiastically squeezed them multiple times before releasing them from the sudden hug and running out of the house like he was on illicit substances.

Shit, I’ve just given him a sugar rush, Autumn realized.

Oh well, too late for regrets.

They decided to spend their time exploring the house, and upon discovering there was a backyard attached, they switched plans to training.

Could they even use their moves here?

Only one way to find out.

It turns out they could, and there was no cooldown as well, although the attacks seemed entirely incorporeal. A reasonable precaution, otherwise the killers would’ve probably gotten into deadly brawls already out of boredom when they weren’t in rounds, but still, it was annoying not having a way to gauge their power. The other problem was that after they had gotten the hang of activating their abilities, they had no moving targets to aim at.

Of course, that’s when c00lkid showed up again. The child was surprisingly easy to rope into their shenanigans, and seemed awfully trusting of them and their promises that the projectiles were harmless. Did 007n7 never teach him about stranger danger or what? But it seemed their earlier act of service had endeared them to c00lkid, and he still had to burn through his sugar rush, so Autumn wouldn’t look this gift horse too directly in the mouth and would instead focus on getting up to par with the actual 1x.

There was the expected issue of translating video game aiming to real-life actions, but once they had it down, they discovered that they were just as goated as in the real world, although it may be a slightly biased assessment since their test subject was a kid. They almost never missed their shots, and when they did, it was because c00lkid got frustrated and used Walkspeed Override to avoid it.

“No fair!” c00lkid pouted after he was hit square on again, Autumn having predicted his next move and aimed ahead to where he dodged to. “I wanna go too!”

“All you then,” Autumn relented easily enough, and traded places with a noticeably happier c00lkid.

All c00lkid indeed. Pizza Delivery minions swarmed in droves and flocks. Corrupt Nature bricks flew through the air at inhuman speeds. Autumn was pretty sure the killers’ rooms were soundproof, because the absolute din that blanketed the yard was enough to wake the dead.

A soft chime made all activity come to a halt. The minions dissipated, the bricks fell to and then through the ground. Even c00lkid himself slid to a halt, his chase after Autumn temporarily paused in favor of paying attention.

1x1x1x1.

It wasn’t a voice so much as it was a thought imprinted into their minds.

“Aw, why don’t I get to play?” c00lkid wilted before straightening up. “Mister 1x, if you see my dad, tell him I said hi!”

Autumn could do nothing but nod before they were suddenly whisked away to another place. They seemed to be in a dilapidated mansion, everything dark with the absence of light, the shadows stretching greedily, trying to swallow up whatever they could get their hands on.

Upon emerging from the front doors, they paused for a moment. Poison rivers lazily bubbled in their beds, running through the map mostly unhindered, dividing it into segments. A spire loomed beside a formation of walls, a well sitting strangely pristine on top of it. Distantly, through the gloom, they could make out spiked walls arranged in a square, forming what they knew was the graveyard.

Yorick’s Resting Place.

A clock chimes. A sudden ticking begins, counting down the seconds until their defeat. A smile stretches across their face.

This’ll be fun.

Chapter Text

Autumn despised disloyalty. She hated people who abandoned responsibility.

Maybe she was getting too in-character. Maybe she was letting her current identity as 1x influence her too much.

But by God, they loathed Shedletsky at this very moment.

Everyone had been in the graveyard. A large portion of the survivors stayed together, huddled in a quickly retreating group. Only the sentinels remained, facing Autumn down with grim looks.

This was the perfect opportunity for a dramatic speech.

“Creator!” They called, making sure to sound almost delighted.

Guest 1337 and Chance faltered momentarily, obviously confused, and Autumn could spot the retreating survivalists pause as well. Shedletsky’s face twisted for a second before he quickly smoothed out his expression. They remembered reading that he gatekept his connection with 1x zealously because he felt the others would trust him less if they knew.

Well too damn bad, that’s what you get for being a deadbeat.

“Creator!” They called again, running up to Shedletsky, stopping just outside the range of his sword. “Finally owning up to your actions?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Shedletsky managed to grit out. His jaw was clenched, his posture tense. Anyone looking from an outside perspective would notice how he seemed unnecessarily defensive.

“I see,” they murmured, their voice pitched to carry, before resuming a normal talking tone. “You know, it really isn’t fair.”

“What isn’t?” Chance cut in, obviously eager to hear some juicy blackmail. Shedletsky shot him a venomous look, but that didn’t seem to deter him.

“You get to make friends. Eat, sleep, be happy. Exist without paying a price. Laugh in the light.” They paused for a bit. “And what do I get?” they demanded.

A few moments of silence passed, during which Shedletsky remained resolutely silent.

“Do I have to spell it out for you?” they scoffed. “Fine.”

“I felt nothing but curiosity when I first came to be,” they began to slowly advance towards Shedletsky. “I looked up to you like a god. You were my creator, I was your creation. Your responsibility, your very own emotion, made manifest by your command.”

Gasps rang out at that proclamation, but they continued.

“And you threw me away. Tossed me aside like I was nothing, left me to rot like I was trash. Years spent in the darkness, festering, decaying,” they punctuated every word with a step closer.

“I may have been made from all that you did not want to be, but you were the one who defined me as your creation of hatred.” They were face to face with Shedletsky now. Carefully, almost gently, they used their darkened fingers to tilt his chin up slightly and met his eyes.

“Take responsibility, Telamon.”

The silence that rang through the graveyard at that statement was like a gunshot.

Shedletsky trembled beneath their hand, his eyes swirling with some conflict they didn’t care to untangle. His breathing was erratic, and he seemed to be failing at formulating a response.

“That name is dead,” he finally replied.

“Always so selfish,” Autumn snarled, their gentle hold on his jaw turning into a bruising grip. “Answer me, Shedletsky.”

“...I’m sorry.”

“Sorry won’t fix it,” their voice was low again.

A beat passed, then two.

“What did I expect…” they lamented softly.

“Keep looking, creator,” they admonished when they noticed Shedletsky trying to zone out. “Perceive me. Find your repentance here in my eyes.”

And for the rest of the round, they stood there, close in physical proximity but so far when it came to what counted, Autumn maintaining their slight tilt of Shedletsky’s chin, the former admin staring into 1x’s face, rarely blinking despite the eye-watering glowstick effect radiating off of them.

Their hand only dropped when the round ended, everything fading to black before they reappeared sitting on a couch in the killers’ house.

Damn, they hadn’t gotten the chance to say ‘hi’ for c00lkid, too caught up in roleplaying. Honestly, it turned out pretty well for a sudden improvisation. They’d been planning on playing the round normally, but when faced with everyone in one place, it was just too perfect a chance (hold on did that count as a pun) for them to pass up — they’d always had a soft spot for monologues.

To be honest, they had no idea about the lore between 1x and Shedletsky. Everything they said was pulled straight out of their ass based on popular fan theories and their own bits of creative worldbuilding, plus a few spur-of-the-moment ideas that just felt right. But apparently they’d hit the nail on the head, because they had visibly struck a chord with Shedletsky. They’d shaken him.

It was glorious. Autumn had always been salty about the relationship between those two, their sweet-toothed self wanting creator and creation to make up or at least stop being so at odds with each other so they could enjoy some fluff. And now they were given a chance to streamline the process.

It was nice, being able to solve their problems like this.

“Mister 1x!” They were brought out of their musings by c00lkid jumping them again.

“Get off,” they complained, but made no move to push him away.

“Did you see my dad?” c00lkid asked, peering up at them with glittering black eyes. They were strangely dull, though, and almost glazed over.

“Yeah, I said hi to him for you,” they lied like a lying liar because they weren’t about to let a child down.

“You did?” c00lkid seemed puzzled for a moment, frowning. “You didn’t have to do that for me, but thanks!”

“Kid, you asked me to,” Autumn reminded. An uneasy feeling was creeping up their spine.

“Did I…?” The whole situation was way off. c00lkid was almost sluggish in his confusion, and seemed mentally fatigued in a way that screamed there was something shady going on. “I don’t,” a pause, “I don’t remember…”

Had c00lkid figured out what he was truly doing again? That would explain his muddled memory and his current state. Fuck, the Specter was a piece of shit.

“That’s okay,” they reassured, casting about for anything to say. “Are you tired?” they tried.

c00lkid blinked a couple of times. Then he yawned. “Yeah, actually,” he agreed before spontaneously falling asleep right there.

The hell? Out of all the places to take a nap, the kid chose to doze off while hugging Autumn? Not like they were complaining, but still, they had a reputation to maintain for 1x.

But c00lkid was warm against them, and they weren’t opposed to getting a bit of rest after that somewhat harrowing performance. Plus, they didn’t want to wake the kid up by moving too much.

Ugh, they were so weak against children.

It wasn’t a full sleep or even a nap, but they did doze for a bit, semi-aware of c00lkid’s weight on them as they reclined against the couch. They were brought out of their rest by a soft sound of shock.

Blinking awake, they were met with the sight of John Doe seated on the other sofa. His surprise indicated he’d just finished a round and was dropped here, the theory compounded by the rapidly healing gunshot wound through his torso.

“Gambler?” They inquired, gesturing at the healing wound.

The other simply nodded, still staring at them.

“Anything interesting about the upholstery, or did you just feel like ruining your eyesight today?” They quipped, a bit unnerved by the sudden scrutiny.

John Doe jolted. “Sorry,” he apologized quietly.

Hold on, he sounded normal. Sure, there was a terrible digital overlay that made his voice sound like a low-quality .mp3 recorded with the world’s worst mic, but underneath that, he was just some middle-aged guy with a slightly androgynous but very much average voice. Autumn supposed it made sense, what with John Doe being a common placeholder name for unidentified individuals, but it was still kind of weird to experience.

“It’s just- I thought I remembered something for a moment,” he awkwardly continued.

Autumn looked down at the position they were in, swapped c00lkid for a mannequin in their imagination, and processed the implications. “Your wife, maybe?” They suggested before they could think better of it.

John Doe froze. “My-”

He didn’t get to finish the sentence before the corrupted code started sizzling and visibly digging into his flesh in what looked to be one of the most painful displays of anger Autumn had ever seen. It was a bit terrifying watching the code try and eat away at John Doe while he just sat there with a poker face like it didn’t hurt at all. His pain tolerance must be insane, holy shit.

“Looks like I’m not supposed to remember,” he winced.

“But can you resist it?” They gestured towards his right side.

“Yeah,” John Doe confirms.

“Just don’t let the Specter catch on, then. Otherwise, you’ll get wiped and set back to square one,” they half-joked, half-advised. What they were doing was majorly out of character, but dammit, they wanted to help this sad little miao miao.

“...the Specter can erase memories?” John Doe whispered, alarmed.

“It’s why c00lkid’s asleep on me,” they sighed. “He figured out he was hurting people instead of playing tag and dodgeball. Got a factory reset straight to the face and latched onto me while loopy from the missing time. I’m going to kill the Specter, knockoff Saw bitch.” That last part was muttered venomously under their breath. Luckily, John Doe hadn’t heard, instead looking horrified at c00lkid’s situation.

“I- that’s- God, that’s fucked.”

Their little freakout session was interrupted by the Specter.

1x1x1x1.

Again?

They gave a lazy half-wave to John Doe and mimed draping a blanket over c00lkid before being teleported again.

This time, ironically enough, it was C00l Carnival that was chosen as the map. They paused for a second, considering their options as they stalked down the steps leading to the Ferris wheel.

Last time they’d had it easy, since Yorick’s was relatively open. Here, they had to utilize Unstable Eye. It was strange, ripping out their eye, but it didn’t hurt too much — it was more of a dry sting before their vision rapidly deteriorated. And sure enough, the survivors were outlined in that same yellow as they were in the game.

Their gaze was immediately drawn to the figure with the burger hat. 007n7, notorious for being an absolute beast at Last Man Standing. With Clone to avoid detection, pull off jukes, and body block with the potential to lock the killer in a several-second animation if they hit one while he was on low health, he was already a contender for most annoying to win against. Adding C00lgui to the mix, an ability which had the potential to shave off a good twenty seconds at least if utilized correctly, meant 007n7 was a genuine threat. Plus, they still had to pass on c00lkid’s greetings. So off they went in the direction of the drakobloxxer exhibit, steps as silent as possible so they could catch him off guard.

They quickly fired off an Entanglement and immediately wound up Mass Infection, uncaring if their first shot landed. Better to reload and fire again than wait for confirmation, because it gave them more response time and a head start to increase their chances of landing the follow-up.

As expected, the Entanglement had connected due to the element of surprise and lack of sound cue, preventing 007n7 from dodging the subsequent Mass Infection. Down a decent chunk of health already and unfortunately unpopular with the other survivors, it didn’t take long for Autumn to get him low and corner him.

“c00lkid says hi,” they flippantly told him, and almost smirked at the way his face twisted before reigning themselves in and putting a sword through his skull.

It was easy to kill. There was no moral crisis, no dissociation episode over how easily they could shed blood and cut flesh. Whatever goodness was inherent to humanity had shriveled up and died inside of them ages ago, and something far more malicious had taken its place. There were no second thoughts or whispered prayers of forgiveness. Just Autumn, and 1x’s body, and the quiet hate that bubbled inside of them both. If they wanted to be particularly delusional, they could say it bonded them together, like a tether that was equal parts for their own good and to keep them chained down with sentiment.

Elliot and Guest 1337 were the last two left. Knowing an Elliot with no Rush Hour would be much easier to kill than the actual Guest 1337, who had military experience, they injured Guest heavily enough using only melee attacks aided by the occasional speed boost from Unstable Eye, baiting Elliot into using Rush Hour and coming over to heal him. As soon as they spotted the blur of red and yellow running towards them with unnatural speed, Autumn captured Guest in an Entanglement, ran right up to him, and executed him swiftly with a point-blank Mass Infection.

The sheer look of terror on Elliot’s face was well worth the effort it took to set everything up.

Autumn won the round while cackling madly, their dæmonshanks carelessly dropped by their sides, hands dripping with blood and pizza grease from their brutal finishing move, where they’d forced Elliot to throw out a slice and then crammed it in his mouth before crushing his head with their bare hands.

Sue them, they wanted to make a final meal joke, and that move 1x pulled with Shedletsky’s head in their intro was too cool not to attempt.

Sweet, glorious victory was theirs at last. And it tasted wonderful, there in the silent carnival, with nobody to bear witness to their triumph.

That’s alright; Autumn only ever needed themself anyways.

Chapter Text

Turns out, the killers’ realm did have a day/night cycle, unlike the perpetually dark climate of the survivors’ one. Currently, the sunset was spilling through the windows, lighting the room in familiar shades of red and orange. It felt like being a kid again, doodling on the floor with no care in the world, giggling and happy.

It was a sensation Autumn had long forgotten. But watching the pretty colors splashed across the sky from the living room was still nice.

They frowned as they looked around. The house was plain, almost unnervingly so. The kitchen was furnished well with appliances, but there were no personal touches. No fruit bowl or box of tissues on the island, no magnets on the fridge or anything like that. The same went for everything else — the living room was empty except for the two couches, the dining room that they hadn’t noticed consisted solely of a comically large table with four chairs, and the backyard was nothing but a fenced-in plot of grass containing a tree in one corner. Even the entryway was desolate, with no shoe rack or welcome mat at all.

This house needed a major fixer-upper. Autumn would have to see if their employer would allow them to get some furniture in here, because if they had to come back every week to this monotonous dump, they’d crash out so hard they’d set a new personal best. And that was saying something, because their biggest incident had led to multiple felony charges that were only dropped on a technicality.

“...” There was no speech, but Autumn got the sense of curiosity from somewhere behind them. Turning around, they were met with the sight of Jason.

“Just watching the sunset.”

“...” Jason tilted his head in the universal gesture of confusion. It was actually kind of adorable, not that they would ever voice those thoughts out loud. What was not adorable, however, was their current predicament. They had to come up with a suitable response without ruining 1x’s reputation.

“If I let myself be consumed by hatred all the time, then that would mean I let Shedletsky dictate how I am, no? And I do not lose to the likes of him.” When in doubt, blame John.

“...” Jason seemed satisfied with their bluff, nodding before taking a seat as well. For a while, they stared out the window, simply appreciating the play of light through the window and the quiet peace.

It seemed they were situated in a suburban neighborhood, with all the other houses appearing spotless but decidedly off-limits with their shutters closed, blinds down, and curtains drawn. The dim, ochre light spilled across the scene, casting shadows onto well-kept lawns. The whole thing gave off a feeling of deja-vu, like they’d seen this before, sometime long ago in their childhood. It was a melancholic type of nostalgia.

A thud echoed through the house, and then c00lkid came bounding down the stairs with John Doe behind him.

“Mister 1x, mister 1x, save meeeee!” was all the warning Autumn got before the child scrambled onto the couch and slotted himself against their side, wrapping his arms around their waist and clinging for dear life.

Automatically, their arm shifted to wrap around c00lkid in a protective pseudo side hug before they turned to John Doe, raising an eyebrow at the despondent expression on his face.

“His father told him horror stories about me,” came the explanation. Autumn blinked because, oh right, 007n7 did do that.

“c00lkid,” they started, unsure how to go about the situation. In the corner of their eye, they notice Jason quickly stand up and head for the stairs, obviously not up for dealing with whatever this was. Not that they blamed him, they’d do the same in his shoes.

“Ooh, mister 1x, can I go outside and play?” c00lkid, thankfully, seemed already distracted by the view outside the window. Autumn knew they were going to have to debunk a few scary myths later to hopefully improve the relationship between those two, but for now, they grabbed onto the distraction with both hands.

“Do what you want, just stay in view,” they cautioned.

“You’re the best!” They were granted a squeeze around their torso before c00lkid was springing off the couch and running out of the house.

The front door slammed shut behind him, and the air soon filled with high-pitched giggles and gleeful yells. c00lkid raced up and down the streets, sometimes trying new methods like backpedaling or skipping, sometimes jumping up to snatch at things that weren’t there, constantly laughing, always happy.

It warmed something in Autumn as much as it rattled them. They grew up too fast for acts like these, were involved in too much to try and grab the sky or run down scalding asphalt roads. It was always ballet and swimming and afterschool, never sunny afternoons and finding safety in embraces and being allowed to hang onto stupid, irrational fears about harmless urban legends.

c00lkid was everything they could have been. A part of them wanted to knock him down, make him hurt the same way they did. But Autumn knew how to shut it out, how to temper it into something useful when it became too much. They had to, if they wanted any chance to survive in their society. So they locked it away and leaned back into the couch, because c00lkid deserved better, and dammit, it was way too cathartic making sure he got the childhood they never did. They were in too deep to back out now.

John Doe awkwardly hovered for a moment before heading towards the kitchen. Soon after, there was the whoosh of the gas stove turning on, accompanied by the sound of sizzling. Autumn just stayed there on the couch, watching over c00lkid as he played, a strange feeling bubbling in their chest.

Earlier in the day, they’d thought of the house as strangely domestic. It was moments like these that perpetuated that idea. The misunderstood father cooking dinner, the vigilant mother watching over the innocent, hyper youngest, and the withdrawn oldest secluding himself in his room upstairs. It was like a fucked up family, cobbled together from the outcasts society threw away.

The Specter sure knew how to pick them.

The sun crept lower and lower in the sky. The light lost its warmth, the air radiated nighttime chill, and the shadows elongated until they stretched across the street like strange hands reaching towards a mysterious goal. c00lkid slipped through the door back into the comfortable temperatures of the house, cautiously peeking into the kitchen before coming over and sitting beside Autumn on the couch.

“Will you eat with me, mister 1x?” c00lkid peered up at them with wide eyes, his tone softly pleading like he was calling upon a miracle. And Autumn did want to, but they should probably set a few things straight with him first.

“Yeah, but don’t expect today to repeat itself for a while,” they warned.

“But why?” c00lkid pouted.

“I am made out of Shedletsky’s hatred,” they murmured, poised like they were telling a secret. As expected, c00lkid leaned in, obviously intrigued. “Because of that, I cannot feel anything other than hate. Today was a rare exception.”

“Aw man,” c00lkid seemed disappointed for a moment before perking back up. “But you’ll eat with me this time, right?”

“Of course,” they gave in.

c00lkid’s core memories would not be of sitting alone at a table meant for a family, eating poorly heated SpaghettiO’s and stale crackers from the pantry. c00lkid’s core memories would not be of a nebulous figure making impossible promises, infinitely warm one moment, cooking pancakes with one hand while the other gestured, infinitely cold the next, absent from dinner, never smiling — at least, not at him. Autumn would make sure of that.

Dinner was filled with the clank of cutlery and the nonsensical babble that c00lkid spouted between bites of his food. Autumn listened intently, rarely interjecting but always paying attention, nodding and laughing, present in a way nobody ever was for them. John Doe had simply taken a plate upstairs, likely embarrassed about his way of eating, considering one of his arms was a pillar-like structure and his one hand ended in claws. Jason was nowhere to be found. So it was just them at the table, but that didn’t make it any less real.

c00lkid finished his food first, and Autumn quickly polished theirs off as well. They snagged his plate and utensils before turning to wash them all in the sink. Instead of wandering away, c00lkid came to stand next to them, observing them curiously.

“Can I help?” he asked.

“Can I help?” she asked.

“You’ll just slow me down. Be good and go to your room. If you’re bored, read a book,” came the response.

“If you want to,” they acquiesced.

It took much longer than usual, c00lkid amusing himself by adding too much soap and then blowing bubbles everywhere, and Autumn indulging his whims by playing along and catching some foam for him to hold, but they got it done in the end, c00lkid even stopping his antics to help them dry everything.

“I’m tired,” he announced.

“Go to bed then,” they defaulted to the logical response.

“But I don’t wannaaaaa,” c00lkid whined.

“You’ll go back to being short if you don’t,” they admonished absently, putting everything back in their places.

Footsteps abruptly started up behind them, and when they turned back, c00lkid had darted out of the room like fire was licking at his heels.

Autumn just shook their head fondly and followed him up the stairs at a much more sedate pace.

1x’s room was just a bed, a desk, and a window. But the bed held a mattress in good condition, complete with sheets, a pillow, and a blanket, so they shrugged and slid in.

Oh fuck, this is heavenly. I think I’ve ascended.

The pillow was firm, the mattress supported their back perfectly, and the blanket was the right balance of fluffy and thick.

Holy shit I need this setup in the actual world, please tell me the contract allows me to ask for this stuff, was the last thought on their mind before they succumbed to the bliss of sleep.

And it was the first time in a while that Autumn had slept soundly through the night without stirring once. Good furniture really was the key to deep sleep.

Waking up in another world felt strange. But it wasn’t a bad sort of feeling; just new.

The same could be said for a lot of what Autumn had experienced in the last twenty-four hours.

They stayed in their room this time, barring a short trip to the living room to read the time(eight AM). They’d have to leave around noon, so it was easier to isolate themselves for the four hours remaining than to go out and socialize again. Plus, they wanted to make the transition as seamless as the circumstances allowed for 1x, which wouldn’t be possible if they left in the middle of a conversation or acted friendly again.

They entertained themselves with drawing to pass the time, having found a blank journal and a pen in the desk’s drawers. After warming up with a few basic doodles, they began sketching out the killers. The first they completed was c00lkid, a simplistic portrait of his face and shoulders. He wasn’t in a super dynamic pose or anything, but they had managed to capture the childish curiosity in his eyes and his carefree posture rather well. The second one they completed was Jason, because they knew they didn’t have too much time left, and Jason was fairly simplistic compared to John Doe. That one was a full-body render of him stalking towards the viewer, machete in hand and his chainsaw dripping blood from where it was strapped to his back, creating a trail behind him that stretched into the lightly shaded darkness that was the background.

They made another trip to the living room, noting the time was past noon now, before returning to their room. They closed the journal and returned it and the pen to the drawer, then laid down on the bed again, this time above the blankets.

I want to return, they thought, and there was a sudden feeling of drowsiness before they abruptly fell asleep once again.

Autumn woke back up in her apartment, back aching from sleeping slumped over the table, the sun barely moved from its position. One look at her clock revealed she had been out an hour and ten minutes, and an unlabelled manila envelope was beside her laptop.

A wide, almost unsettling grin stretched over her face.

It wasn’t just a lie.

Oh, she was going to have fun.

After she cashed the fat check she was owed, that is

Chapter Text

glizzygobbler860: Dude how’d you find such a good job

assblaster371: frfr like dont be shy drop the sauce 🤑

pickletickler3000: chat I’m cooked they cut my shifts and now I ain’t got enough money for rent 😭

assblaster371: rent 💔 ts pmo icl 🥀

Autumn frowned before typing a quick message.

1tothepowerof4gooner: I can lend you money if you need some

pickletickler3000: dude I’m short like fifty bucks are you sure

1tothepowerof4gooner: yeah I gotchu homie

pickletickler3000: oml you’re saving my life

pickletickler3000: I’m gonna give you the sloppiest top ever if we meet irl 👅

1tothepowerof4gooner: I’ll allow it if you wear a white wig and green crown

assblaster371: why so freaky

assblaster371: but also dawg HOW do you got that much $$$ to spare

assblaster371: my broke ahh could never 😔

1tothepowerof4gooner: unlike you I’m employed

glizzygobbler860: She got you there ngl

assblaster371: both of you fight me now 😡

glizzygobbler860: Remember that one time me and 1^4gooner soloed the entire match as Medkit and Subspace because you and the other randoms couldn’t be bothered to get off your fat lazy asses

assblaster371: mb gng nvm

1tothepowerof4gooner: 😂🫵

With that closing message, Autumn swapped from the hangout server to pickletickler’s DMs and found their PayPal, pinned from that time she owed them money after betting on how long it would take for their sink to break again.

It’d been almost a week since she possessed 1x. In a great mood from her earnings and experience, she had talked about it a bit in the Forsaken Discord under the guise of finding new employment, which allowed her to play the game on the job. She hadn’t expected much, merely messaging for the sake of it, but to her surprise, a few of the people in chat seemed to care. They talked with her about whatever miscellaneous topic came into any of their heads, and the conversation quickly evolved from a simple “oh really? how does that work” type of Q&A about her job to genuine connection. By the end of the night, the group had adopted her into their ranks and sent her an invite to their hangout server.

She didn’t know their real names, but that was fine with her. If calling everyone by their shitty explicit server handles (they didn’t like their actual usernames, all chosen in haste and poor taste after Discord removed discriminators) was the price she had to pay for their friendship, she was more than willing to play along.

Refocusing from her tangent, she quickly sent pickletickler the fifty dollars before tabbing back into Roblox. She’d been idly playing the same game for a while, a restaurant simulator fittingly titled “sushi gam” which put an interesting spin on its gameplay by rendering meat unavailable through conventional means, instead making it something the player could only take from civilians by force and providing various incapacitation tools from a knife to a hatchet to chlorofoam and a rag. The gathering of beef was limited to nighttime, and visibility, blood, and police mechanics forced her to be strategic in regards to how or when she subdued civilians. To be honest, the rest of the gameplay was kind of mind-numbing, simply a matter of hitting skill checks if she was making sushi or pressing the corresponding keys if she was washing dishes, with the occasional break to clean windows. The only reason she was remotely invested was the nighttime gameplay, and even that wasn’t enough to keep her interest for long.

In her boredom, she had targeted a civilian even when she logically should have stopped for the night, and the wailing of police sirens quickly drowned out the background OST. Sprinting to the NPC that would clean her bloodstained clothes was a close call, and she decided that was enough of playing the game for today.

Leaving the game and tabbing out of Roblox for a moment, she sighed and checked her assignments. Everything was either due a comfortable amount of days later or already turned in. For once, she didn’t have a deadline hanging over her head or a game lined up to play.

She decided to hop on Forsaken and idly spectate for a few rounds, as had become her habit when people started server hopping or throwing their matches intentionally after seeing her playtime and win stats. It was a simpler form of people watching that was not only entertaining but also educational — she had learned many techniques and avoided a lot of mistakes from watching others’ gameplay.

The Two Time rework had recently come out, and she snorted upon realizing that the entire server was playing them, minus a lone player who was Noob. The killer was John Doe, an unfortunate match-up, but that only seemed to incentivise the Two Times to just outright stab him instead of going for backstabs. Within the first minute, most of them had been damaged to low health, but there were two that were still perfectly healthy. The first seemed to be a case of good luck, their movements janky and their jukes much too wide, but the second was skilled.

Autumn watched in interest as they crouched behind a wall just before the Noob ran past with John Doe in tow. A quick lunge later, and the Two Time had nailed him in the back, buying Noob a sparse two seconds that they managed to capitalize on by hurrying behind a check spot. The match drew to a close soon after, Noob toughing out the last ten seconds by sprinting until they ran out of stamina and then popping a slateskin. John Doe was able to close the distance, but couldn’t break through the extra eighty health in time to secure the kill.

The other matches went similarly. Out of the Two Times, only that singular one was effective, but they more than made up for it in sheer ferocity. Every thirty seconds, when their dagger cooldown finally ended, they would come out of the woodwork like a persistent pest and nail the killer with their stab. It didn’t matter if it was a backstab or front stab, they kept at it, somehow always managing to either stun the killer or stab them at just the right time so they couldn’t simply end their low health target due to their abilities being locked with helpless for two seconds. It was scarily impressive how big a disturbance they were, only compounded by the fact that they put their insurance of a second life to good use, always sticking close to keep the killer’s stamina draining when they ran and never fearing taking hits in exchange for landing their dagger.

you’re goated at TT, she complimented them in chat once the round was over.

thanks I’ve been waiting for this rework since the game dropped, came the reply.

oh word you’re an og player??

r u not??

no check my profile

yo??? gang what am I looking at

what liking 1x does to a person

lol

The countdown for intermission reached twenty.

wait I’ve never seen u in a round r u afk

yup I’m just spectating

dawg turn that off come fight me

She checked everyone’s malice, and she indeed had the highest value currently.

are you sure

yeah bro

She turned it off just in time for her to be chosen as the killer.

The round was the closest she’d ever had in quite a while. She quickly took out the less experienced players, making sure to always check around corners and even taking slightly wider turns. Her paranoia was rewarded when she registered the translucent figure crouched behind the fence fast enough to shiftlock backwards and turn the would-be backstab into a front stab. Unable to punish the failed stun without extending into a chase due to the helpless effect, she simply turned around and resumed pursuing the Dusekkar she had been after.

The next try did land, Autumn momentarily forgetting that Two Time had been reworked and thus neglecting to check her surroundings before using Unstable Eye, resulting in a dagger lunge straight into her back. Annoyed with herself and amused with the situation in equal parts, she shiftlocked and spun in a circle for the duration of her stun before heading in the general direction of the other survivors.

It was that one phrase, something something “unstoppable force versus immovable object.” Sometimes she’d dodge their attempts, sometimes they’d succeed. However, her generally more refined skillset allowed her to gradually pick off the other survivors, though it took a lot longer than usual. Finally, the kill animation for Taph ended, and she entered Last Man Standing with Two Time.

She almost lost that round — the health increase was nothing to scoff at, although they weren’t at the full one hundred and ten due to being caught within range of her melee sometimes, and they were an experienced player, looping and weaving like it was second nature. It took her most of the minute and a half to acclimate herself to not only their normal tactics but also their ability gameplay, while they already knew her style well from observing her as she ignored them for other survivors, a move that she, in hindsight, realized was a mistake. She was only narrowly able to scrape a win due to landing an Entanglement, hitting them with her melee, then deciding why not before somehow managing to cheese an up-close Mass Infection.

holy spawn gg

yeah gg that was the first close call for me in like forever

fr this is the first time I’ve lost since the rework

mb for ruining your win streak

nah all good in fact accept my friend req

She happily obliged, checking the time absently before doing a double-take. Flustered at the late hour, she quickly typed a response.

done but I gtg it’s sleep o’clock for me

o ok hope ur pillow is cold

She smiled as she closed Roblox and then shut off her laptop for the night, leaving it on the table as she went to wash up. Distantly, she wondered how the Two Time rework might be implemented in the Forsaken world she was incarnating into. Would their moveset just magically change? Would there be an actual storyline where they find their dagger and regain some of their freaky cultist powers? Would the Specter just hand them the thing and tell them to go wild?

She kind of wanted to see what would happen; sue her, she was curious. And she also wanted to bear witness to the absolute shitshow that Shedletsky was bound to be surrounded with, considering her big reveal of his relationship with 1x.

No. She had to resist the temptation. She wasn’t going to possess 007n7 tomorrow. She wasn’t.

Who was she kidding? She was a hundred percent going to. Besides, if he won’t raise his kid, then she’ll just do it for him. Easy win-win: he got a break from the rounds and a better relationship with his son without having to put in any of the work; she got to mess around a bit, see what was happening on the survivors’ side, and spend some more time with c00lkid.

What a neat little ideal scenario — Autumn couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Waking up was decidedly uncomfortable. For one, her head was pounding. For another, the surface beneath her wasn’t the pleasant softness that had graced her during her time as 1x, but rather an unpleasantly firm mattress with coils that poked into her back sharply. Grimacing, she quickly sat up and scanned the room.

She was in the living room of a small cabin, presumably one of the few scattered around the in-game lobby, and her mattress was laid on the floor against the base of a sofa. Faint shuffling could be heard behind a closed door, one she assumed led to the bedroom. The fire was burning low, the embers dim like they wanted to extinguish but couldn’t quite manage it yet, and she was without a blanket and essentially sleeping on the floor.

What the fuck, she mouthed quietly as she cautiously got up, careful not to disturb the mattress or floor too much so they wouldn’t make noise. Why the hell were 007n7’s living conditions so poor?

On closer inspection, the door leading to the bedroom had a crude Spawn symbol etched on it. The grooves were jagged, and the wood around them was stained with what looked like granite dust and drops of dried blood, implying that the carving had been made with sharp rocks. It was very obviously Two Time’s room. It was also apparent that they had not reacquired their dagger yet, otherwise they would have touched it up to look better, religious fanatic they were.

So the rework hadn’t been implemented here yet. How interesting.

Her headache had faded by now, as had her many other symptoms of sickness upon waking further, but she couldn’t help but still ponder on it as she ambled about in search of the bathroom. One clause of her contract was that she would not be affected by weather-related ailments, so she could get up to more shenanigans instead of being shackled to a bed. And while she was grateful for her employer’s insight, she still felt a bit outraged on behalf of 007n7. Sharing a cabin with Two Time, sleeping on the floor with no blankets or pillows, continuously slumming it out for such a long time that he got sick? Yikes, she knew the admins disliked him for his former forays into the Robloxian equivalent of felony crimes, but she didn’t know they straight-up hated him.

Then again, maybe the other survivors didn’t know. She didn’t think Guest 1337, a good man even if he was in military mode most of the time, or Chance, the laid-back chill guy with zero idea that 007n7 was a former hacker, would approve of this. Maybe 007n7 had hidden his situation out of shame and resignation? He likely thought that nobody would bother to help or care, which wasn’t exactly false, but damn, that was a depressing mentality. Autumn was surprised the Specter hadn’t yet swooped right in and given him a little tweak; 007n7 as a killer would be goated. She’s heard great things about the c00lgui — those headcanon writers sure could cook.

Well, it’s not her problem if the defective bundle of code was too stupid to utilize the prime drama material right in front of it. She’d do all that for it instead. Besides, 007n7 snapping was bound to be peak entertainment.

Stepping outside, she utilized the sparse illumination available to navigate her way to familiarity, managing to reach the main cabin. Not feeling up to acting just yet, she veered away down an intersection and soon found herself trudging through dense undergrowth. The path eventually trailed off, and she was about to turn back when she noticed a line carved into a tree.

It was just a singular straight line, and that was suspicious. Deciding to investigate, she was rewarded with another path hidden behind vegetation, this one looking distinctly man-made with the grass trampled and branches crudely ripped off to clear the way.

Venturing down the mysterious pathway led her to an isolated clearing with a single tree at the center, the whole thing presumably located at the edge of the Lobby’s borders. Her gaze fell on the trunk of the tree, and her jaw dropped.

Blood was splashed against the base in huge swathes, like someone had murdered multiple people there. It was caked up in layers, signalling a disturbing long-time habit. Scattered around the roots were blood-stained rocks, the same granite that she had just seen a bit ago. The most incriminating thing, though, was the huge, sprawling Spawn symbol carved into the trunk, the only pristine rock in the entire clearing lying discarded next to it.

What. The. Fuck.

She’d always been pissed at the people who made Two Time out as just some slightly unhinged blorbo, but she never thought they were this level of full-blown insane. God, all that blood must be their own. No wonder they were so pale.

Something glimmered in the moonlight.

No way, she shook her head, creeping closer before crouching down and unearthing the object.

Yes way, apparently. Because her hand closed around something cold, solid, and decidedly sharp.

It was Two Time’s dagger with a note attached. Skimming to the end revealed a corny codename she immediately connected to the Specter.

No fucking way, her thoughts were now tinged with hysteria, maniacal laughter playing in the back of her mind as she stared down at the weapon.

Do I give this to them? She pondered before throwing logic out the window. Nah, I’m just gonna keep it. Fuck it we ball.

She pocketed the dagger, making a face as she realized that it somehow worked despite 007n7’s pants having no pockets, before turning around and leaving the clearing. Making her way to the main cabin, she prepared to get in character. She didn’t want to tip the others off too early, because then they’d be on guard, and half the fun in doing wild things was the flabbergasted reactions people gave.

But being 1x came a lot more naturally to her than being 007n7 did. Plus, she was extremely biased towards them, so she generally had no trouble immersing herself and taking up their identity, complete with pronouns and bloodthirsty mannerisms, whereas she wasn’t really familiar with 007n7 and therefore had a harder time with him. So she felt it was best to leave a sense of disconnect between them.

The door creaked when she opened it, and Autumn was subjected to the stares of just about everyone, bar Two Time, before most of them looked away. The notable exceptions were the admins, who frowned and kept an eye on her, Elliot, who scoffed in a derisive way that didn’t fit him at all, and Chance, who made a beeline straight for her.

“Heeeey, 007! Lovely weather, isn’t it?”

“It’s the same as always,” she deadpanned, taking care to speak quietly so her low tone covered up the more biting sarcasm underneath.

There was an awkward pause before Chance resumed.

“Anyways, wanna make a bet with me?”

“A bet?” Autumn perked up a bit, intrigued despite herself. Gambling at this unholy hour sounded like a great way to kickstart the chaos.

“I bet my lucky coin that you won’t be able to beg a slice off Elliot today,” Chance smirked, taking out said coin and flipping it. Autumn watched intently and caught the moment it landed on tails before it was surreptitiously swapped to heads.

“I’ll take you up on that,” she replied with a smirk of her own.

“Glad to see you loosening up!” Chance left with a laugh, and Autumn was left standing awkwardly at the door. Shaking her head, she made her way to the dining area at the back of the cabin and sat down at the table farthest from the rest. Soon, Guest 1337 came over and sat down as well. It seemed like he either wasn’t up for socializing unless it was on his terms, or he just took pity on Autumn. A long moment later, Guest finally broke the silence.

“Was Chance bothering you?” Quick and to the point, voice gruffy and scratchy but rumbling with a low baritone that automatically set her at ease, Guest was exactly how she’d imagined him to be.

“He wanted to make a wager,” she murmured shyly, trying to emulate the slightly hesitant air that hung about the real 007n7.

“And what were the terms?”

“He bet his gold coin that I won’t get a slice of pizza from Elliot today.”

“Ah,” Guest winced. “A rather tall ask.”

“Mm, well, it would have been rude to turn him down…”

Guest sighed. “Listen, 007, it doesn’t matter if it’s rude or not. If you aren’t comfortable with something, you need to make it clear and stand firm.”

“Sorry,” she apologized nervously, inwardly cooing. What an adorable pep talk! Too bad the real 007n7 would never get to hear it.

“Don’t be,” Guest’s eyes seemed to soften for a moment before his perpetual serious face settled over his features again. Autumn shot him a thankful smile, and they spent the rest of the intermission just sitting there. It wasn’t the bubbly energy of c00lkid or the generally relaxed atmosphere of the killers’ house, but it was warm and understanding, not strained or forced, simply a comfortable quiet for them to bask in. It was enough.

Of course, all good things must come to an end. Instead of the relatively unobtrusive sound cue and notification that the killers got, there was a wrenching tugging at her navel for a moment before it faded and was replaced with a vague sense of dread.

“Who’s coming to this round?” Builderman’s voice rang out in the sudden silence. Hands were soon raised, and the prospects weren’t looking good if the subtle furrow of his brows was any indication.

Autumn had to agree. He and she had been picked as well as Noob, Dusekkar, and Taph. Not only was it a five-person round, which already reduced their odds of winning on account of having less teammates, but they were all survivalists or supports. It was clear the Specter was setting them up for failure. In addition, Builderman, Dusekkar, and Taph were all affiliated with each other and would stick together, and Noob, who she knew was perpetually fueled by terror and paranoia and more skittish than a deer, would tag along, leaving her as the social pariah who had to go lone wolf and was possibly screwed if the killer spotted her.

It was almost like this round was designed to bully 007n7. And if she hadn’t possessed him, he would have been going in sick as well.

Wow, the Specter sure loved to hate. Unfortunately for it, Autumn was annoyed with her current situation and not afraid of getting blood on her hands.

Her vision faded to black for a moment before she blinked back to awareness in a formation of walls. Two Time’s dagger sat heavy in her hand.

She tested out her clone ability, first opening up the c00lgui and setting it to cursor mode before creating one. Immediately, a cooldown started on the panel, and she closed it before directing her clone around. After a bit, it suddenly collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut, and its limp body lay on the floor like an actual corpse.

Turning away from the mildly morbid sight, she tested the dagger. She seemed to have no limitations with it, free to stab and crouch as much as she wanted. This was ideal, and she could feel her face already attempting a rictus grin, held back only by 007n7’s muscle memory. Taking a moment to wind down, her attention was diverted by a distant rumble. Peering out from behind the walls, she was just in time to witness Dusekkar swerve haphazardly around some spikes rising from the ground. The tips glistened with glitchy binary code that cascaded down like an eerie approximation of blood, and the ground around them looked withered and wrong, the grass dead and the soil warped beneath the layers of black ooze they exuded. Overall, the spikes felt foul, like malevolent entities that were never supposed to be.

Then John Doe came into view.

Gone was the affable, soft-spoken, unfortunate civilian, and in his place was the monster the old code had made out of him. It didn’t even seem capable of speech, simply emitting growls that even she could hear from her current position. But what sealed the deal was its eyes — it’s dull, dull eyes, nothing like the downcast but always expressive ones of the John Doe she’d met in the killers’ house.

Autumn grimaced deeply, anger bubbling up in her chest. She was going to put that thing down if it killed her. And even if it would, she didn’t care.

After all, death wasn’t permanent here.

She crept along the shadows, careful to stay out of sight. When she spotted Builderman, though, she made a slight detour. Making sure to put the dagger away for a moment and telegraph her footsteps so he wouldn’t be surprised, she approached him.

“Do you have a sturdy but not thick piece of metal?” She queried, muttering like she was ashamed to ask. Builderman squinted at her suspiciously, but she just hung her head and clasped her hands behind her back like a kicked puppy.

“Fine,” he sighed and handed her what looked to be part of a dispenser. “But don’t waste it.”

“I won’t,” she promised, already hurrying away to where she last spotted Dusekkar.

She got there quickly and swiftly sent out a clone on cursor mode to body block for an injured Dusekkar before swapping it to pathfinding so it would get out of her way. Pulling out the dagger, she lunged and stabbed through the thing’s chest just as it was winding up another swipe. She twisted the blade for good measure before stepping back and swinging for the head with her borrowed scrap.

The impact made the thing stumble, and she took that as her chance to shove it forward, forcing it to fall face-first onto the ground. Immediately, she let herself fold at the knees and land on it with her legs, ending up in a kneeling position on top of its back. She grabbed its left arm and twisted it before forcefully pinning it down.

You will always perform as well as you need. A mere throwaway comment compared to the rest of the contract.

What an unexpected boon, she mused as she drove the metal through the arm and deep into the ground with a sickening crack.

With its only useful arm disabled, the thing began to try and struggle with its legs. Autumn allowed it for a moment, impassively squashing its attempts, before she reached under her and withdrew the dagger from its torso. She held it up, watching the unnaturally dark blood drip from it. She remembered Two Time’s old milestone III, where they apologized, the spark in their eyes replaced with a hollowness that would never fill again.

She wasn’t sorry, not for what she was about to do. It was the least this abomination bastardizing John Doe deserved.

Distantly, she realized the others were all here now, Builderman staring in horror at her makeshift stake, Taph covering Noob’s eyes, his body language tenser than she’d ever seen on anyone. But she didn’t care.

She grabbed the thing by the back of its head and pushed its face further down into the ground. She raised the dagger.

“Wait-” someone called out, tone shocked and panicked and a million different emotions all at once, knowing what was to come.

Autumn struck.

It wasn’t clean at all; beheadings took a lot more than one blow unless you were trained by a medieval spirit or possessed herculean strength. But she kept at it, hacking and slicing. The dagger seemed to be impossibly sharp, carving through flesh and sinew like butter, the bone a mere delay of seconds before it too crumbled under the blade. In about half a minute, she had the thing dead, its head rolling away to who knows where.

Slowly, with no noise other than the ragged breathing of the others and her heartbeat pounding in her ears, she stood up from the body and beheld her handiwork.

“007n7,” Builderman started, looking almost haunted. His face was pulled taut in a way she’d only ever seen on horror movie actors.

She blinked once, twice, then bent down to yank the scrap metal free.

“Do you want it back?” She offered it to him.

He flinched violently. “No thanks.”

“Okay,” Autumn nodded, “can I keep it?”

“Sure,” Builderman seemed more horrified but confused now, rather than just straight up horrified, so she counted that as a win.

Pocketing both the scrap metal and dagger, she estimated the time it took for her to kill the creature.

“A minute left,” she mused. “Does anyone want to join in on the bet I have going right now?”

In the end, Noob sided with Chance, weakly joking that she was Elliot’s mortal enemy while stubbornly avoiding glancing at her bloodstained forearms and hands. Taph had simply pointed to himself, then her, and then made a triangle with his hands before hurrying away to presumably freak out with the other two admins, so Autumn assumed he was with her on the bet.

Overall, her day started better than she expected. She could almost say she had fun.

Can’t wait for the next round, she thought gleefully as her vision faded again.

Chapter Text

Autumn sat innocently, careful not to blink. Across from her, Two Time regarded her with a detached sort of suspicion, also not blinking.

They had entered this weird stare-off as soon as the round ended — she and the others were deposited in the lobby just as the three admins got heated about what had happened. With their voices raised, even the short snippet the other survivors had caught was enough to leave their eyes wide and lingering on her. Two Time, in particular, instantly manifested at her side like a child hearing the word snacks, and they had been arguing back and forth about the validity of Dusekkar’s account ever since.

“I do not have your dagger,” she enunciated clearly, still not blinking.

“What must I give in exchange for your honesty?” Two Time cocked their head, smile never wavering, eyes never drooping.

She thought about it for a minute, never breaking eye contact.

“Your companionship, aid, and a vow to not hurt c00lkid,” she decided. As much fun as wielding the dagger was, she didn’t have the heart to hurt the other killers after experiencing their kinder sides while possessing 1x. It would also be a little ridiculous if she could just backstab without cooldown, and the whole thing would get stale fast. Plus, she didn’t want c00lkid to go through unnecessary pain, and she needed to stay somewhat in-character, too.

“Done,” Two Time inclined their head. “You have my assurance that I will keep my word; may the Spawn punish me if I lie.”

Autumn put a hand under the table and withdrew the dagger from whatever hammerspace it resided in when she put it away, then slid the thing across the table. Two Time finally let their gaze drop to stare reverently at it for a moment before wrapping both hands around the hilt.

“Praise be the Spawn,” they breathed, looking down at the weapon like they weren’t sure it was real.

“007n7,” their head suddenly snapped back up, and Autumn blinked in surprise. “Have you considered joining me in the glorious worship of our god?”

Was she getting recruited into the Spawn cult?

Well, in for a penny, in for a pound.

“I can’t say I have,” she started, “but I can tell your devotion is very strong. You can count me interested.”

Two Time’s smile widened to an almost maniacal baring of teeth, and Autumn reciprocated in kind, which only seemed to delight them more.

“I have a feeling we will get along very well, then.”

The rest of the break was spent learning incantations, Two Time teaching her a basic bedtime prayer. It wasn’t too different from the practices of her youth, her long-buried memories of Sunday mass and Bible study rearing their heads and helping her along. Her prior experience meant she had little trouble acclimating to Two Time’s beliefs, muscle memory guiding her to clasp her hands together, dip her head down, close her eyes, and breathe softly. Religion came almost instinctively to her, Two Time’s words simply a template she easily expanded on. By the time she wound down her elaborate prayer, full of flowery prose and Genesis references that any preacher would eat up, she felt like she was ten and sitting at the edge of a pew, going along not so much out of faith as amusement.

She let her hands fall apart, opened her eyes, and looked up.

A small crowd had gathered around them. Elliot and the admins were conspicuously absent, but everyone else was there. There was a shocked silence among them all, faces slack with disbelief. Across from her, Two Time looked like they were experiencing the Rapture.

“Never in all my years have I heard a prayer so sincere, so perfect in its encompassment of the Spawn’s glory,” they praised after a beat.

“You flatter me,” she waved the compliment away, a bit pleased at how easily she had slipped back into her former faux zealotry. It would certainly make things easier.

“I didn’t know you could get that passionate, 007n7!” Chance smiled, but there was something about the way he said it that telegraphed unease.

“Neither did I,” she laughed it off, but inside, she was equal parts smirking and frowning. While this was bound to liven up her short stay here, she wasn’t sure how well 007n7 would be able to play the part after she was done.

But that wasn’t her problem, now was it? Her contracted job was to stir things up and maybe fuck with the Specter if she had the time and means. Nothing more, nothing less. And while she could go out of her way to make things easier for the survivors, and she didn’t want them to suffer too much, she wasn’t particularly concerned with them either.

Who knows, maybe having a new partner in crime, insane and religious though Two Time may be, would do 007n7 some good. But she certainly didn’t care to ensure it.

Another round was signalled, and this time she was spared the tugging, so she assumed she wasn’t taking part. By the show of raised hands, it was a bodyguard round, Elliot being the sole support among every sentinel, including Two Time, who was now twirling their dagger at blurring speeds in an impressive show of dexterity.

A moment later, they had departed.

Autumn relocated to the area around the fireplace, the lobby now empty enough that all five of them who stayed behind could sit there. After staring into the flames long enough to give herself black spots in her vision, she decided it was boring and closed her eyes to let them recover before lighting up as an idea came to mind.

Pulling up the c00lgui, she ignored everyone else’s sudden tenseness and instead swiped through the interfaces until she found what she was looking for.

“Jackpot,” she crowed triumphantly.

“Uhm, 007, what did you find…?” Noob seemed like they were about to faint when she turned her attention to them, so she made a conscious effort to control her expression before giving it up as a lost cause.

“I can spectate the round,” she smiled happily.

“Wait, really?” Noob brightened, their earlier fear suddenly forgotten in favor of an enthusiasm Autumn hadn’t know they were capable of. “Lemme see!”

Suddenly, everyone was congregated around her. Builderman was peering over her shoulder, keeping a wary distance but intrigued despite himself. Dusekkar was hovering next to him, unabashedly leaning in to get a better look. Noob was seated next to her in a flash, eyes fixed on the gui, and Taph was on her other side, also paying rapt attention.

Shrugging internally and going along with it, Autumn pressed the big box with the eye icon. Instantly, the screen projected a third-person view of the killer, Jason, just in time for them to catch a diabolical miss that almost sent Shedletsky into an early grave were it not for Elliot throwing him a pizza.

Besides her, Taph was trembling with silent laughter, and Noob had an outraged expression on their face like they couldn’t fathom how Shedletsky missed that swing. A glance back showed Dusekkar just staring blankly like he couldn’t believe his eyes, while Builderman looked as affronted as an Englishman watching an American make tea with their microwave. Smirking, she increased the screen size to more than large enough with a few waves of her hand, and gestured for everyone to gather closer and take a seat. This was going to be good.

The next couple of minutes were pure chaos.

“Why is he gambling during a chase?!” Noob got more and more vexed as Chance kept flipping his coin, even biting back a half-formed “idiot” when Jason’s Behead only missed him by a hair’s length.

“That must have hurt.” Dusekkar shook his head sympathetically as Guest took a hit. “He is lucky blood did not spurt.”

“Where’s Two Time?” Builderman’s question was quickly answered when they lunged from around a corner and nailed Jason right in the back.

“Twisted the knife, they did. They’d do it to the child too, I bid.”

“Isn’t that a little harsh? I don’t think Two Time would hurt a kid like that,” Noob frowned.

“Besides, not like you all haven’t done worse to my son,” Autumn bit out, not missing the chance to snipe at the others while in-character.

An awkward silence befell them for a bit before Shedletsky fumbled his slash again.

“Oh for the love of-!”

The rest of the round was spent blaming John, with intermittent breaks when Jason switched targets for a bit so they could cheer the other survivors on. It turned out that the time dilation was only a thing when she was possessing someone, and that time here typically flowed just as it did in the real world, therefore, it had also been only a week in the Forsaken universe, and everyone was still pissed at Shedletsky. The least affected seemed to be the other admins, and even then, they seemed conflicted.

It was nice having someone other than 007n7 be the scapegoat. It was also nice how this allowed Autumn to bond with the others over picking on said person.

“It’s ten seconds left, just start running away!” Noob threw their hands into the air as they watched Chance trying to lead Jason for another spin around the manor instead of fleeing.

“He should’ve left that loop ages ago when Jason missed his ability and had to catch up,” Autumn grimaced as she watched Chance juke unnecessarily and deplete his stamina. “He signed his death sentence when he stayed.”

“Loop?” Builderman questioned, suddenly interested for some indiscernible reason.

“Places or obstacles that you can run through or around to stall the killer,” she explained absently, eyes narrowed as she watched Jason Behead Chance, killing him instantly due to his high weakness stacks.

“He almost had it, too,” she lamented as she watched Jason set off in pursuit of Elliot, who had shown up a second too late.

“And what places would you consider loops?” Builderman gestured towards the gui. There was a thump in the background that suggested Chance’s return to the lobby, but Autumn ignored it as she focused on the map.

“The graveyard is good, especially when you consider the formation of walls next to it.” She started. “The well is also nice, but you can realistically only use it once or twice before the killers start predicting when you’re going to drop off and which way you’re going to run around the spire to get back up.”

Taph tapped her on the shoulder and mimed flipping a coin before drawing a circle with his finger, then tilting his head questioningly. It took her a second to get what he was referring to, but she eventually got the gist of it, which was something like “what about the loop Chance was running?”.

“The manor is the best, but you’d have to leave it behind pretty quickly if you’re dealing with John Doe because of the spikes and traps.”

“What’s with the watch party?” Chance was now standing behind her, his breath ghosting her neck.

“Back up,” she told him, unamused.

“Sorry, sorry,” he sounded as insincere as could be, withdrawing to take a seat as well.

“You whiffed that so bad,” Noob informed him before turning back to watch Jason go after Guest instead after being body slammed away from Elliot. Chance was so flabbergasted by the usually timid survivalist blatantly telling him he fucked up that he couldn’t formulate a response before Jason caught up and everyone became invested in the subsequent chase.

“He’s not doing it right,” Autumn critiqued, narrowing her eyes as Guest missed his Block.

“How so? The soldier miscalculated here, but he has caught many other blows,” Dusekkar argued.

“He tried to block based on when he sees it coming. He’s not predicting, he’s reacting.”

“And what are you getting at?” Builderman frowned, but he seemed willing to hear her out.

“Jason’s a physically strong serial killer with experience and a machete. We’ve all seen how fast he can swing — there’s no way Guest will be able to put his arms up in time if he waits until Jason’s already attacking.”

Everyone winces at her blunt explanation, but it’s Noob who questions her next. She’s pleasantly surprised by their newfound chattiness.

“Then why does it work for the other killers?”

“Because 1x has longswords and thus the swing takes a bit more time because of the required stance, and John Doe is just using his claws, so he needs to wind up for a slash if he wants to do any real damage.”

“What about c00lkid?”

Everyone freezes. Taph takes Noob by the shoulders and shakes them frantically, likely trying to convey a sense of “why the hell would you ask that”, and Chance looks distinctly uncomfortable with the situation.

“He thinks he’s just playing a game, so his punch is an extension of the typical move you’d do to tag someone you’re chasing,” Autumn, undeterred, demonstrates by tapping the floor next to her quickly. “Not nearly slow enough to block solely based on reflex, but I’d like to think it’s easy to anticipate if you’ve ever played with other kids in your childhood.”

The others were silent for a few seconds.

“They’re not going to win this one,” Autumn commented as Jason sheathed both machete and chainsaw in Guest’s gut and then kicked his now limp body off the blades, creating a gaping opening through which viscera spilled freely. It was a gruesome sight that had many suppressing a gag, though Jason quickly ran off towards a silhouette in the distance, so they were spared further exposure of Guest’s corpse.

Another thump sounded, and shaky breathing could be heard immediately. Autumn got up to help Guest, motioning for the others to stay put because, unlike Chance, this death was not clean or quick at all.

“Guest 1337?” She murmured, crouching down beside his crumpled form. She noted that he was curled into himself, hands clutching at his abdomen almost defensively. “The round is over now. You’re alive.”

No response.

Hesitantly, she touched his shoulder, nothing more than just the graze of her fingertips. But he still jolted, like she had wrapped her hand around his neck.

“Don’t touch me,” he rasped, looking through her.

“Guest,” her voice was firm now, almost authoritative. “I am 007n7. We are in the Lobby. You are not dead. You are not in pain.”

“What-?” There was mostly confusion, but she thought she heard a glimmer of recognition.

“Name five colors you can see,” she demanded, cringing a little at having to resort to Reddit advice of all things. But it seemed to work, Guest’s eyes becoming sharper.

“Brown, beige, black, blue, white,” he listed almost robotically.

“We are in the Lobby. You are not dead, you are not in pain,” she repeated. “Do you understand?”

“I-” Guest paused, processing for a bit, before something seemed to click and his gaze cleared completely.

“I’m sorry for the trouble,” he sighed, subdued.

“Don’t be,” she parroted his words from earlier in the day, and was rewarded with an amused huff. She extended a hand that Guest gratefully took, helping him up with surprising ease.

Huh, didn’t know 007n7 was secretly packing, she thought wryly as she eyed Guest critically.

“Name a food item you like.”

“Trout,” Guest answered automatically, clearly caught off guard. “Why?”

“Just double-checking you’re mostly recovered,” Autumn lied.

Right as Guest made to reply, Elliot dropped out of thin air and onto the floor, wheezing in a winded sort of way before entering a coughing fit.

“Excuse me, I’ve just discovered I’m very thirsty.” She quickly fled the scene, using Elliot’s presence as a cover for her bullshit excuse and hasty exit.

She did, indeed, drink some water in the kitchen, but after she drained the glass, she pulled the nearest cabinet open, and was promptly met with a whole lot of nothing.

She didn’t exactly think this through, did she?

After some fiddling with the c00lgui, she discovered she already had limited item summoning powers, presumably added after her employer got around to reading the complaint she’d left in a Google doc simply labeled “FOR MY BOSS”. Humming happily, she selected the food she’d need to make a simple fish dish, pulling a face as she barely caught the trout that’d flopped out of nowhere. Laying everything out on the counter, she nodded in satisfaction and was about to begin before she was interrupted.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

She paused at the frankly unreasonably pissed tone that could only belong to one individual before plastering a menacing grin on her face and turning around.

“Well, dear Elliot, what does it look like?”

Elliot may hate 007n7, but Autumn hated being dragged into petty spats even more. And nothing boiled her blood like people being ungrateful or flippant about how much someone’s grown and how hard they’re trying to change.

Maybe it’s time she showed him how bad things could have been. Warn him off a little, give him a glimpse of the callous hacker underneath the cracking outer shell of a remorseful father. She would even say he could count himself lucky; all he’d get was a little shock to his system.

The c00lgui fizzled beneath her lowered hand. Since she was in its creator’s body, she knew exactly what screen it was was currently displaying.

/kill: _____

Yes, Elliot could count himself very lucky.

Chapter Text

“I knew you hadn’t changed, you-”

“Will you quit it?” Autumn sighed, turning around. In one hand hung the trout, dripping blood and half-filleted. In her other hand, she wielded a slim, curved knife, wickedly sharp and stained red.

Elliot promptly shut up, pressing against the back of his mini-cell. The c00lgui sure didn’t mess around when it came to commands like /jail, but she was starting to wish she’d thought of a better solution than just running the first restraining script she saw.

“I should mute you,” she absently mused, twirling her fillet knife in her hand, copying how Two Time did it with their dagger.

“No need,” the pizza worker seemed frightened now, eyeing her with trepidation.

“Aww, scared?” She cooed, stepping forward to loom above him from outside the bars. “It’s about time you respected your betters,” she snapped harshly, narrowing her eyes at him before backing off and returning to her cooking.

Elliot stayed quiet after that. It was nice not being heckled every few seconds with a creative insult. As amusing as it was listening to him bash 007n7’s personality, bloodline, and taste in almost everything, it got annoying quickly. The silence made for a much more productive work environment.

She finished all the preparations, checking her chunk of trout one more time for any unwanted inclusions before starting to grill it. It was in a cast iron on the stove because she wasn’t about to install a fixture that would see practically no use outside of her visits, which meant it was a pain in the ass to baste, and at one point she tilted the pan too much and almost spilled the butter, but she got it done in the end. She quickly plated it, not bothering with presentation because she had a feeling Guest wouldn’t care, before muting Elliot (she had a feeling he was going to call for help if she left him vocal and unattended) and stepping out.

The survivors were all seated at the various tables, socializing merrily. It seemed everyone’s moods had been lifted by the discovery of spectating, and Builderman was poking fun at an increasingly irate Shedletsky about his poor performance. Nobody noticed her, so Autumn took note of the seating arrangements before ignoring them and heading to the table where she and Guest had sat before. Setting the plate at his spot along with a knife and fork she’d summoned on the way, she made a face as she realized the food would go cold.

Pulling out the c00lgui, she acquired a metal lid like the ones in restaurants and a pad of sticky notes with a pen.

surprise :D sorry I lied, she wrote, and drew a doodle of 007n7’s burger hat because she thought it was cute before sticking the note onto the cover. Quickly fleeing back into the kitchen, she shoved the notes and pen into her weird pocket dimension before surveying the mess. The rest of the trout had already despawned, probably some timed food safety thing installed by her employer, seeing as the kitchen had no fridge, but the rest of the ingredients were there. She glanced at everything, trying to puzzle out a dish aside from meat that would require these.

Fuck it, I’m making that one appetizer from California Pizza Kitchen, she decided, because she wasn’t a master chef and wasn’t trying to be.

The result was an astronomical quantity of dipping oil infused with herbs, which she poured off into individual dishes for each of the survivors. Because she was feeling nice, she included Elliot in the count as well. She then summoned an unnecessary number of baguettes and put everything on trays.

Now, she knew how to carry these from her short time as a waitress before she decided she wasn’t that opposed to being homeless. But when there’s heavy shit that’s liable to spill, she wasn’t going to take any chances.

“If you tell anyone about this, I’ll make it so unbearable to live you’re going to wish you died instead of being sent here,” she hissed under her breath as she unjailed and unmuted Elliot. He glared at her, but there was no real resistance in his gaze, so she was satisfied he’d keep his mouth shut.

“Help me with these,” she motioned towards the trays. Wordlessly, Elliot took two and walked out, and she followed with the other three.

Still a petty bitch even in times like this, she repressed a snort as she focused on balancing everything.

“I’ll take one,” came the statement before she was relieved of the third tray. Blinking, she looked up and was met with the sight of Two Time holding it.

“Eat well,” she flashed them a smile and received a nod in return before Two Time retreated to their table. Looking around, she noticed Elliot had served everyone except for the admins.

Scratch that, he’s a full-blown asshole, she amended in her mind as she made her way over. The admins regarded her with their usual suspicion, although they did offer thanks for the food, but Taph gave her an enthusiastic thumbs-up, much to Shedletsky’s chagrin, so she counted it as a win.

She ambled back to her table, sat down, and was immediately fixed with an unreadable look from Guest.

“Thank you.”

“It was nothing,” she shrugged.

“No. It is not nothing.” Guest’s gaze bore into her. He looked utterly focused, like he was dedicating every ounce of brainpower towards this moment. “You not only went out of your way to help me calm down after my death, but also somehow found and cooked a trout for me because I said I liked it. You have been nothing but good to me.”

Autumn blinked once, then twice. Wow, so heartwarming, she thought.

“That’s not-” she protested anyway, because it genuinely wasn’t that deep, and 007n7 was probably shit at taking praise from what she’s seen and experienced.

“Not what?” Guest cut her off, suddenly intense. “Not that big of a deal? Not kind? Not important?”

Damn, he’s good at this. Autumn pursed her lips and remained silent.

“I don’t know much about you, I don’t know why you you're so insistent you're the scum of the earth, but you aren't. You are a decent individual as far as I’m concerned. The world could use more people like you.”

“People who hack and wreak havoc?” she muttered bitterly, keeping up pretenses.

“People who change. People who want to help. People who own up to their actions.” Guest paused for a moment, then continued. “You’re a credit to the team, 007n7. And we’ve all done you a great disservice by acting like you aren’t.”

“I-” she tightened her throat and tried to choke it out as opposed to just saying it. It seemed to work, as Guest let off a bit and instead laid a comforting hand on her arm.

“I apologize for overstepping,” he murmured after a while.

“It’s okay, you didn’t cross any lines,” she reassured him. While he didn’t look convinced, the hand on her arm did withdraw, so she assumed her words must have partly mollified him.

Now she just felt bad for 007n7. Not only was he not here to hear all the encouragement meant for him, but his reputation was only improving because she hijacked him and lucked into it by fucking around. It was pathetic and sad. But hopefully, by building him a support network and roping him into worshipping the Spawn, he’d at least be better adjusted, if only because Guest or Two Time would drag him away to have another emotional talk or pray.

Another tug at her gut signalled an impending round, and the cheery atmosphere immediately became more subdued. Spirits were still high, though, the others having wolfed down most of the bread and dip, an impressive feat that in hindsight shouldn’t have surprised her. Was there even anything to eat here besides Elliot’s pizza?

She shelved that question as Builderman conducted the preliminary roll call. Based on the hands raised, everyone except for Noob and Taph would be participating. She was fairly confident in the round’s outcome, seeing as everyone aside from her had some way of directly contributing to the team. If the survivors played as good as the users she met in more advanced lobbies, then they could easily win.

The round began, and the first thing she took note of was the cool breeze against her face and the crunch of grass underfoot. She was present in a courtyard with random brick walls throughout. There were three ways she could proceed, one partially blocked with zombie hands, the other terminating in a hideous face, and the third leading to a messy kitchen. The horror hotel wasn’t exactly the best map for 007n7’s moveset, but she could probably make it work.

The air tingled with a looming sense of dread. It almost felt like…

But now was not the time to become lost in thought. She shook herself off and made her way to the generator nearby, detangling the wires and connecting them in a way reminiscent of the flow puzzles featured in-game. She’d just finished the last set before she heard it.

Click, click, click.

A distinctive sound cue of chains clashing and winding echoed throughout the map before a familiar green arc came slashing through the space she’d just vacated, leaving behind a few fizzling drops on the generator before they evaporated away.

EAS alarms started up in the distinctive melody of Domino Effect’s first layer. She hadn’t noticed any chase music when she was the killer or in the round when she’d murdered the old code, but that was irrelevant. Her current concern was hiding behind a wall and peeking around the side, holding her breath in anticipation.

And there they were, rounding the corner from the hallway ending with the face. The music transitioned into the second layer just as they brought their hand up to their eye and ripped in a motion far more violent than Autumn’s gentle plucking from her time as them.

1x lowered their hand, now dripping with their blackened blood, and stared right at her.

Autumn smiled, mania and excitement bubbling up inside of her.

Game on, my favorite.

She darted out from behind the wall, weaving through the zombie hands blocking her way as she made for the doorway on the side towards the bedroom. Ducking to the right in anticipation of Entanglement, she was rewarded with the sight of the projectile flying through the doorway and disappearing into the wall. She quickly followed it and slowed to a walk as she entered the party room, glancing behind her as she waited for 1x to catch up.

She was almost delirious with how giddy she was. She was facing her main! Her beloved main, whom she had been dying to meet properly. Or, well, as properly as she could when she was in a survivor’s body.

The sound of Mass Infection filtered through her ears, but she kept walking the same way. 1x would try to predict her after she dodged their Entanglement, which meant as long as she didn’t try to avoid it, she would be fine. Sure enough, the poison cut through the space to her right, once more failing to connect. Shortly after, footsteps echoed behind her, and the music in the back of her head roared to life again. With her stamina recovered, Autumn began running towards the end of the room.

As she hurried up the stairs and veered left into the ball pit, she stopped to catch her breath again, simply standing in the middle as she waited for 1x to either follow her or come up the other side. The footsteps stalled for a bit before they resumed, this time with an echo that suggested metal, so she assumed they were following her and darted to the ramp leading downward. Fleeing down the hall, she heard the sharp shing of a sword being unsheathed before a thud echoed.

“Taking responsibility?” she threw over her shoulder as she turned left into the well room. Grinning at the choked sound of shock she received in response, she made her way through the kitchen and back out into the courtyard again. Conveniently, everyone else was there.

“Where’s Shedletsky?” Builderman questioned worriedly, eyeing the space beside her like he might manifest out of thin air.

“He hit his slash after I ran the loop he was at,” she adjusted her burger hat, paranoid it might come off. “1x is definitely after him now. He’s over by the ball pit.”

“And you just left him?” Elliot asked incredulously, almost accusingly, as Guest and Dusekkar split off to go help.

“You were the ones who left me to my devices, playing base here while I ran for my life,” she snarled back, gesturing towards the dispenser nearby and the charred ashes indicative of a flintlock failure. “Blame yourself, or perhaps Shedletsky for choosing to assist, something I’m sure you can’t comprehend, but don’t try to pin this on me.”

A tense silence settled over them for a moment before Two Time broke it with a sigh.

“Quarrelling will do us no good in times like these. Instead, I propose we lend our aid to our teammates in peril, or at least position ourselves more advantageously.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Autumn sighed, nodding at the cultist. “We should head over.”

They moved as one group, cautious and slowly, until the sound of Mass Infection played once more.

“Scatter,” she hastily told everyone as she doubled back and sprinted away to the courtyard. Her brain was working overtime, thinking of the strategies she would use in this round, and she knew that if she saw survivors as grouped as they were and had the excuse of a chase, there was no doubt she’d snipe them.

As expected, only Two Time heeded her warning, following her away from the others. Chance fixed her with a look that screamed “you’re too paranoid” before turning back around, and Builderman simply shook his head. Elliot didn’t even bother responding. A second later, all three of them produced various sounds of pain as the Mass Infection slammed into them.

“I tried,” she shrugged, turning to Two Time. “You know how to use that on the killers?” She gestured towards their dagger.

Their smile twisted for a moment before they seemed to catch themselves. “Unfortunately not,” they shook their head. She held out an open palm in the universal gesture for gimme, and they reluctantly handed their dagger over after much hesitation.

“Stabbing them straight-up isn’t particularly effective,” she demonstrated with a quick swipe, “but it does disorient them a bit. If you’re ever in a tight spot or backed into a corner, just jab at them and then run for it.”

“And what about backstabs?”

“You’d know a lot about those, both literally and metaphorically, wouldn’t you?” She muttered knowingly.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” she smiled. “Back on track — backstabs are much better. They stun the killer and are generally easier to utilize.” She demonstrated this by crouching and then lunging forward with both hands gripping and pushing the dagger out in front of them, attempting to copy the in-game animation. It looked a bit strange, but it got the point across.

“Or you could go for mid-chase backstabs,” she mused, maneuvering in front of Two Time before quickly sidestepping, moving diagonally backwards so she was behind them, and poking them between the shoulder blades.

“I appreciate your insight.” Two Time’s voice was oddly flat, and their shoulders were tense. It was as if they were anticipating an attack from her. But amusing as it would be, she was no traitor, and reusing the same story beat was tacky if not done right. Instead, she circled back to their front and handed them their dagger back.

“It’s no problem,” she responded easily. “Want to join the others?”

Two Time simply stared at her for a moment, their eyes glinting in the dim light like still water on a moonless night.

“Yes, let’s,” they agreed, voice hushed like they were confessing a secret.

They arrived on the scene at the perfect moment, Two Time lunging like Autumn had shown and driving the dagger into 1x’s back, twisting it on the way out for good measure. The chains that had been binding them fell away, and the Mass Infection along the edge of their dæmonshank lost its form, splashing down to the ground in a vague blob. They fell forward onto one knee, barely catching themselves with their other blade, and their next inhale was shaky like a death rattle.

Autumn felt a wince crawl up her throat at the sight, but shoved it down. She couldn’t afford to show sympathy in front of the other survivors, and 1x could handle themselves. To give in to emotion during a round was akin to suicide, and she didn’t want to die yet.

She chose to tag along with Guest and Dusekkar as they left the scene behind.

“Fortuitous timing indeed, for we were quite in need,” Dusekkar commented. Autumn flashed him a smile but didn’t speak on it further, unsure if she should reveal any of her interaction with Two Time. As far as she was aware, they were a very solitary individual who was inclined to keep everything about themselves private. Sharing information with anyone else, well-intentioned though it may be, would likely earn her their ire.

Thankfully, Guest saved her with a quick agreement, and they lapsed back into peaceful silence for a bit before 1x neared. While the others didn’t seem to hear the first layer, simply assuming the footsteps were another teammate, Autumn wasn’t fooled. Booting up the c00lgui, she sent a clone out that way, ignoring the perplexed look Dusekkar shot her and the contemplating one Guest had donned.

Instead of a friendly greeting or at least some verbal acknowledgement like a tongue click, several wet splats came from that direction. Besides her, Dusekkar blanched and Guest tensed, but she only had eyes for 1x. It appeared they felt the same, immediately running out of the shadows and launching into a run after her.

It was a rather fun game of cat and mouse if she ignored the consequences of failure. It was nice being able to constantly run like this without some old wrinkled man yelling at her to go faster and reminiscing about his PR, and she didn’t get too winded because of the video game mechanics, which made it possible for her to always be pleasantly energized if she managed her stamina correctly. It also helped that she was being pursued by 1x, whom she was ridiculously partial towards, and their chase theme was the most fire thing to grace her ears since EPIC: The Musical. In short, she wasn’t just trying to survive; she was enjoying herself.

Since 1x seemed especially inclined to go after her for some reason, she received plenty of help from her teammates, with even Elliot reluctantly throwing her a slice after she juked her way out of a corner and was caught in an Entaglement. Thanks to the support as well as her experience with looping, she was able to stall out the round, even with 1x fully focused on killing her.

With seven seconds on the clock and the knowledge that Mass Infection was on cooldown for nine, she allowed herself to be hit with an Entanglement, because 1x didn’t have the means to kill her in time. Instead of trying to end her once they caught up, though, they did something unexpected.

“‘Taking responsibility?’” They quoted her, voice low enough only she could hear. They sounded almost amused.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” she admitted in a whisper.

“Give him hell for me, then.”

Autumn blinked in surprise. She made to respond, but then she was gone, swept up in a wave of darkness that deposited her back into the Lobby among everyone else.

“We made it!” Chance whooped loudly, firing a blank with his flintlock in place of a party popper.

As the others finally processed their success, Autumn’s gaze found the group of admins, all still orderly even among the chaos of celebration. Her regard slid from Builderman to Dusekkar to Taph before landing on Shedletsky.

Give him hell for me, 1x had asked. And she will endeavor to deliver.

Anything for her favorite, after all.

Chapter Text

“Come, let us arrange your resting place,” Two Time smiled at her, pulling her towards their bedroom.

“I’m fine with where I’m at, Two Time,” Autumn politely refuted them yet again.

“Nonsense,” they shook their head. “The Spawn would be most displeased with both of us if such a devoted worshipper as yourself remained living in squalor.”

“If you insist,” she sighed, returning their smile, although hers was slightly tinged with exasperation.

After some time had passed without another round starting, everyone seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. The end of the rounds indicated “nightfall”, the only period when they could sleep and have some time to themselves. A few of the survivors had chosen to mingle for a while, with Chance reluctantly handing her his gold coin before slinking away to groan about his loss, but the majority had departed to rest. She had elected to follow Two Time back to their shared cabin, figuring she could go for a nap, but Two Time had started fighting her on her sleeping arrangements immediately after entering and spotting her mattress.

One thing led to another, and now Two Time had somehow convinced her to move into the bedroom. They insisted there was more than enough space on the floor for them both, so Autumn found herself reluctantly going along with it.

007n7’s things were quickly dragged and deposited next to the now relocated mattress, and Two Time split the pillows and blankets evenly between them. It was rather wholesome how happy they were, grinning and chatting happily as both of them sat on their respective mattresses. Granted, the subject was the Spawn cult, but it was almost charming how taken with it they were. Almost, because it was still a cult, and Two Time was likely brainwashed and manipulated into high hell, but the fervor in their voice could pass as admirable if she didn’t think about it too much. So she turned her brain off and nodded along, pitching in at all the right points with some sage religious saying, just like how she did back when she was still regularly attending church.

Eventually, Two Time grew more somber, their smile ebbing back to their default one instead of the excitement they had possessed earlier in the night. The tone of their musings grew more contemplative, their pauses between stories of the cult stretching longer. Then, haltingly, they shifted the topic suddenly. Alarmed by the unexpected switch from old bedtime hymns to a seemingly mad ramble on the validity of their beliefs, Autumn sat up a little straighter and paid closer attention with a frown.

“This isn’t about your opinion, is it?” She cut in after listening for a while.

“I- what?” Two Time seemed genuinely caught off guard, blinking at her owlishly.

“This is about what happened during your ritual,” Autumn stated.

Two Time seemed to freeze. Several moments passed, their eyes darting around the room like they were trying to will themselves out of the situation, before they pursed their lips and nodded.

“It just frustrates me to no end,” they huffed. “All those non-believers scoffing at my second life, as if I didn’t give everything to be blessed by the Spawn in such a way! What do they know?”

“Do they understand the magnitude of your sacrifice?” She prodded. Were the other survivors aware of what, of who, Two Time had put down in exchange for their ability to respawn?

“No,” they shook their head, “but it still gives them no right!”

“Mhm,” she absently agreed, wondering how exactly she was going to placate Two Time. Fortunately, the other was content with her general encouragement and seemed to be fine just getting it out of their system via word vomit.

Panting slightly as they wound down their rant, Two Time sighed in remorse. “I can’t believe I let my emotions take hold of me like that… The Spawn is sure to be most disappointed with my rash condemnations.”

“The Spawn will understand,” Autumn soothed, “for THEY are most merciful, no?”

This seemed to calm them down. “Yes, you are correct. Praise be the Spawn for gracing us with THEIR most divine radiance despite our flaws.”

There wasn’t much small talk after that, both of them getting ready for bed before tucking themselves in. Two Time led the same prayer they had taught her some hours ago, and she followed along without problems. They finished the ending praises with a synchronized amen, and Two Time soon bade her goodnight before falling asleep.

While her mattress was nowhere near the comfortable, cloud-like one that had graced her back when she was 1x, the bedroom was warm, and the blankets and pillows were nice. Two Time’s breathing created an unobtrusive rhythm that carried quietly through the air. Eager to catch some rest, Autumn allowed it to lull her into a daze, and soon found herself falling into a slumber as well.

Waking was markedly more pleasant than the day before, and she yawned silently into her hand as she slowly got up. She carefully exited the bedroom, careful to close the door behind her, and checked the clock.

Broken.

Rolling her eyes, she rebooted the c00lgui from the sleep mode she had put it into and summoned a new clock. Taking the old one down and putting the new one in its place, she banished the defective device to somewhere random before she made her way out of the shared space and headed over to the main cabin.

“Heeeeeey, 007n7, can I have my coin back?” Chance intercepted her as she turned onto the main path.

“You wagered it and lost,” Autumn murmured, taking care to act more timid as she was leaving today.

“Yeah, but c’mon man, you know I need it for my abilities! Pleaseeeee?”

“Okay, okay,” laughing softly, she returned the golden coin to Chance, who immediately perked up and began flipping it.

“I promise you won’t regret this!” he flashed her a thousand-watt smile and sauntered away, whistling a merry tune under his breath. Perplexed at his inexplicably upbeat mood, she stared at his retreating figure for a moment before shrugging and carrying on her way.

The main cabin was abuzz with soft chatter, and she settled easily at the far table. Just like before, Guest came and sat with her, and they spent some time tiredly making small talk before the rounds began again. By the show of hands, Dusekkar and Elliot would be excluded, while the rest of them would go. This didn’t seem to sit right with the others, and Autumn had to agree. A full round so early was a bad sign; it meant the Spectre had something big planned, or wanted a certain survivor to suffer, and decided to include spectators for maximum humiliation.

Either way, things weren’t looking good. Breathing out a long exhale, Autumn slumped down onto the table, and the next second was lying on a stone pathway.

Frowning at the oddly smooth texture beneath her, she rose and looked around. The night sky glimmered above her, a black void of twinkling stars that was almost whimsical in its glittering beauty. Around her, trees swayed in a gentle breeze, their trunks sturdy and leaves healthy, a sea of vibrant green raining down every time the wind picked up. Odd, white walls surrounded her, arranged in nonsensical formations that were perfect for weaving through.

She had to admit, Planet Voss was much more beautiful in person.

Her examination was interrupted by a high-pitched laugh. A familiar one — one that starred in a certain killer’s intro.

“There you are!”

She threw herself to the side just in time to dodge the blur of red that shot at her. The wall she’d been near cracked at the impact, the strange material slowly repairing itself as the flaming sword intended for her was wrenched out of it.

“Ouch! Hehe!” c00lkid giggled as he dislodged himself from the wall and heaved the Firebrand over his shoulder, where it dissipated into nothing.

“c00lkid?” she called out, slightly unnerved at the single-minded fixation she found in his body language.

“I finally got your attention!” he seemed to light up at the acknowledgement, rushing over. Autumn opened her arms instinctively, anticipating a hug. Instead, c00lkid paused in confusion.

“Why aren’t you running? I thought we were playing tag?” he asked, voice going a little unsure at the end.

“I thought you were going to hug me,” Autumn felt wrong-footed, wincing a bit at how awkward the situation had turned. But c00lkid seemed delighted at her words, wasting no time in pouncing on her and wrapping her in a bone-crushing embrace.

Something in her chest creaked in warning, and his fingers, which ended in vaguely claw-like points, drew blood from her sides with how tightly he dug them into her shirt, but she swallowed her pained exclamation and reciprocated in kind, looping her arms loosely around c00lkid’s shoulders. Several seconds passed before she was released from the deathly tight grip.

“It’s so nice to see you, Dad!” c00lkid hummed happily as he skipped in circles around her, occasionally tugging demandingly at her hand. “Let’s play together!”

“What do you think we should do, then?” she smiled down at him indulgently, her other hand absently coming up to pet his head.

“Let’s play tag, and I’ll be it!” c00lkid grinned, beginning to tense in anticipation again.

“Ah, but you’ve been it so many rounds, you’ve become too good at tagging,” Autumn half flattered, half protested. “Why don’t you let me have a turn instead?”

“But you’re always so tired when we play normally, Dad… Are you sure it’ll be fine?” c00lkid frowned in concern, peering up at her with worry brimming in his eyes.

“I’m sure, kid. C’mon, I’ll give you a ten-second head start,” she promised, covering her face with her hands and closing her eyes for good measure.

“Okay then!” c00lkid relented easily enough, and soon his footsteps faded out along with his giggling. Finally reaching ten, she let her hands drop and headed over to the commotion in the distance.

She found c00lkid sulking with his arms crossed, the ruins of a sentry scattered at his feet. “Stupid admin, trying to sabotage me…” he muttered petulantly.

“Ready or not, here I come!” she called out, c00lkid looking back at her and squeaking before taking off.

“Nooooo! You’ll never take me alive!” he yelled, fleeing from her. She ran after him, following him through the map relatively easily.

The air was soon filled with laughter. c00lkid was always at a slight advantage, what with having a slightly more optimized stamina system thanks to his status as a killer, but he seemed confused by the winding structures of walls and kept doubling back or getting lost. This, plus his neglect of his abilities and the killer-only gateways, was enough to even the playing field.

At some point, Guest showed up, likely having noticed both c00lkid and her absence before putting the pieces together. Upon arriving at their perfectly innocuous game of tag, he seemed to pause, shocked and almost upset.

Shit, he’d had a kid, Autumn grimaced.

“Dad, make him go away! He always interrupts my games, and it hurts when he tags back,” c00lkid whined, visibly upset at the intrusion.

“Um, Guest, could you-” she made some ambiguous hand gesture that conveyed a general sense of fuck off.

This seemed to snap Guest out of his momentary spiral, his eyes softening for a moment as he stared at the duo she and c00lkid made. “Of course,” he nodded, striding away. Satisfied that the unwanted variable was removed, c00lkid pestered her to start chasing him again.

Making a mental note to check up on Guest after the round, she nodded and went back to playing tag. She did manage to catch up some time left to spare, and after bargaining with c00lkid for a bit about not using his abilities, was relegated back to running away. On the bright side, she’d gotten to practice juking on someone more impulsive and high-energy, and had held out until the end with no support.

“Let’s do that again sometime!” c00lkid called after her, voice giddy. She turned and flashed him a smile, chuckling as he waved enthusiastically. One moment he was there, the next he wasn’t, and she was back in the lobby with the other survivors.

“Hey, are you okay?” She muttered, having made her way to Guest’s side. “You kinda froze up back there.”

“I’m fine,” Guest sighed. “Just nostalgia.”

“Oh,” Autumn managed, suddenly feeling very unprepared. “Well, if you ever need to talk, I’m here.” When in doubt, get 007n7 to do the work instead.

“I appreciate it,” Guest smiled at her before his gaze flicked to somewhere behind her, and his expression instantly changed into a disapproving frown.

“Chance, what have I told you about trying to make bets with Noob for their colas?” he called, and promptly went over to break up that particular conversation.

Suppressing her amusement, Autumn exited the main cabin, wandering into the forest until she had found a secluded spot. Lying down and folding her hands across her stomach, she closed her eyes, willed herself to go back, and was swept away in a flash.

Some time passed, with naught but the ever-present shuffling of leaves and the comforting glow of the moon. The dim rays filtered through the canopy, draping the sleeping figure in a blanket of white.

Footsteps could be heard after a while, and a lone figure emerged from the treeline. They came to a dead stop upon seeing the body, standing there for a moment before flinching as a nasty thought came to mind.

“No, no, it can’t be!” They rushed over, kneeling beside the other.

“Wake up, wake up!” they pleaded, shaking the unresponsive form.

The slumbering person stirred once, twice, shimmering in the muted light like a distant mirage.

“Huh?” It was nothing more than a tired grumble, but it was audible nonetheless.

“Oh, thank the Spawn,” a sigh of relief was breathed.

“Two Time, what on Robloxia…?”

“I was worried I’d lost you for a moment, y’know! Don’t scare me like that again.”

“Sorry,” came the reflexive apology.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Two Time brushed it off easily. “Come, let us regroup with the nonbelievers.”

“Okay, just give me a moment first.”

“Of course,” they inclined their head, stepping just out of earshot.

There, in the sparse illumination, 007n7 looked down at his hands. His clean, innocuous hands, which he’d always taken for granted. Until he’d witnessed them move without his input to unearth a ghostly dagger brimming with the thrum of a sacrifice. Until he’d witnessed them type on the c00lgui, the motions so familiar yet foreign, fingers flying too fast, lacking any of the reluctance he possessed whenever he utilized it. Until he’d witnessed them caked in blood, clasped in prayer, hovering over the /kill screen, until he’d witnessed them pressed against his son.

He clenches his hands into fists, driving his nails into his palms until the sting threatens to become something more biting.

Not a dream.

It hadn’t been a dream.

There, in that liminal clearing, 007n7 allows himself a single shuddered breath before he collects himself again.

Sinners don’t mourn. Sinners don’t cry. Sinners grit their teeth and bear their punishment.

He recalls Guest’s gratitude. Two Time’s enthusiasm. Noob’s excitement and Taph’s interest, Chance’s steady stream of quips and jokes. The admins’ slow shift from suspicion to vague curiosity, Elliot’s reduced rage in the wake of everyone else’s happiness. c00lkid’s carefree laughter, his unrestrained exuberance as he initiated a hug for the first time since they’d been trapped here.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good now,” he calls back, and pushes himself to his feet.

007n7 will be damned before he lets some two-bit thing puppeting his body outdo him.