Chapter Text
Subspace really did not want to be at work today.
It was odd, really. On any other day, he wouldn’t let the thought of taking off even an hour sit in his head, let alone the whole day. After all, he would never, could never, let down the higher ups! He was Blackrock’s beloved, their golden child, and either way, who was he to disobey the ones who gave him life?
But today, he felt strange. As soon as he woke up in his designated sleeping quarters, Subspace could tell there was a shift in his life. What kind of shift, he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but it was there. Not physically, not feasibly possible to feel with his own two hands, but felt through his soul. It loomed over him, its presence grew stronger the closer he got to his office, and Subspace could feel it. He felt it overlooking him like the prying eyes of all of his bosses, rooted in the aches of his body, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
Something had changed. The hallways looked the same, the trip to his office was the same, outside was the same cold blues that he had known all his life, it was all the same.
So why did he feel like something had changed?
BAM!
Subspace slammed a fist against the desk, letting out an irritated sigh.
He hated change. Life was simple in its mundanity. It grew on him with ease! It had enough events to keep him on his toes, but a routine familiar enough to never challenge him. He had never once left his comfort zone, never felt unease towards what the day may bring, all his days meticulously planned out for the week, and he loved it like that.
The mere concept of change alone aggravated him to no end, and it got even worse when he couldn’t find exactly what happened to cause it.
Unfortunately, that was his exact predicament right now. No wonder he was so agitated.
Subspace wasn’t stupid. In fact, he was the polar opposite. He knew what the feeling was called—
‘A gut feeling.’
It wasn’t necessarily a bad gut feeling, neither was it a good one. Just a feeling.
Subspace didn’t know if that was comforting or not.
A static voice rang out through the intercom, snapping him out of his thoughts.
“Subspace Tripmine, please report to the loading dock when available.”
31 minutes later than the expected arrival.
Thirty one.
He had been tasked to repair Hyperlaser’s helmet after he had sustained some fall damage. The only reason it was him and not any of the many measly mechanics of Korblox was because he was the one who made it in the first place. It barely harmed Hyperlaser, thankfully, but it most definitely harmed his helmet. Because it served as Hyperlaser’s disability aid, he couldn’t do much of anything without it, let alone adequately do his job. Therefore, it was Subspace’s job to fix it. He couldn’t do much without the required materials, though. The aforementioned materials were expected to be shipped at 1:00 P.M.
They did not arrive until 1:31 P.M.
To say Subspace was pissed would be an understatement.
Furiously, he stomped towards the loading dock with a small fleet of biografts. He was already preparing his ‘talking’ points for when he saw those damned suppliers, for failing so miserably at a job so easy, so simple, that requires such little knowledge and effort to the point where it makes him recoil—
Unfortunately, by the time he got to the dock, there was nobody there to insult. He assumed the suppliers knew they would need a stern talking to and decided to avoid it entirely like the cowards they are. ‘They’ll never get better at their jobs without someone to snap them to their senses!’
Either way, the materials were acquired, he didn’t claw out the eyes of a poor bystander on the way, and the sky was still covered with clouds of snow.
He commanded the biografts to carry the boxes, and waltzed his way back to the comfort of his office.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ✦ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
After a few long, frustrating hours, Subspace was finally finished. The helmet was to be mailed to Hyperlaser’s residence, and he would be back on duty tomorrow.
It took far longer than initially anticipated, with what was meant to be a quick 40 minute fix-up turning into the most agonizing 3 hours of his life. It’s not like it was even hard to fix, it was the way absolutely nothing was going as planned.
That could be said about the entire day, actually.
Subspace leaned back in his chair, running his hands down his face. His head hurt like a bitch, his eyes struggled to stay open, and he wanted to punch a hole in the (unfortunately) thick, white walls around him.
Nothing was going as planned throughout the entire day. Every event was happening in a way that wasn’t intended, at times that didn’t align with his schedule, in ways that made him tired by the end of it. He was tired.
Oh, how Subspace hated change.
The worst part? The weird feeling in his gut hadn’t gone away. In fact, it got even worse.
Nothing had changed. He’s been across the foundation wing and back, and he had yet to see any change anywhere.
For the entire day, he was looking for every minute detail, looking for even the slightest change in features. As small as another pen on his desk, or a loose screw laying stray in the halls, and yet there was nothing.
If nothing had happened earlier in the day, nor had happened in the midst of it, then it would most definitely happen by the end.
Something was going to happen, whether it be sooner or later.
And Subspace had to admit it, he was scared.
An event was going to happen, but he didn’t know exactly what, and he didn’t know when or where. He couldn’t even control it.
And the lack of knowledge, the lack of control, it was foreign to him. It scared him.
Although he really didn’t expect it to happen so soon after that realization.
The looming, unnameable feeling washed over him and consumed his body and soul whole.
In the unwavering quiet of the facility, alarms began blaring.
And suddenly, all the anxieties of the day were met with gratification.
Not because this was a joy for him, in fact, it was more a nuisance than anything, but because something had finally happened.
Subspace barely registered the voice coming from the intercom.
From what he heard, the entire wing had been put on lockdown as a result of two intruders breaking in and killing an administrator, alongside a few other, more unimportant people. How they did that, Subspace did not know, but if the attempts of subduing the intruders weren’t working, then something was going down.
Subspace needed to do something.
He barged out of his office (he was shocked that the doors weren’t locked, honestly. Perhaps it was only for a specific area.) and broke into a sprint down the hallways. Other than following the army of biografts to where the intruders were located, he honestly didn’t have a real plan. If he were being even more honest, he’s probably running to his doom right now. With the way that gut feeling was getting so bad it started to physically hurt, he may actually be.
In any other situation, this would have been Hyperlaser’s job. In any other situation, the intruders would have been dead and gone to an atomizing bullet or two the moment the sensors detected an unidentified inphernal on the premises.
Unfortunately for Subspace, this wasn’t “any other situation”. And if he had to take deadly matters into his own hands, he’d do it without a care in the world for the blood spills.
Speaking of spilled blood, he passed by a hallway of it in his haste. He didn’t take time to find the source, neither did he care enough to. If anything, it was more so a nuisance. All it did was cause him to almost slip. Even in death, the interns did nothing but make everything harder, apparently.
Subspace recognized the route the biografts led him to, so at least there’d be no unexplored territory. A constant mind of paranoia leading up to a wing-wide lockdown was already too many surprises for the day. And ironically, it was the fastest route to the loading dock. The intruders likely thought it would be the easiest escape during the late hours of the day— with little to no security when there wasn’t any cargo to be dropped off and less staff monitoring the cameras in comparison to areas with more traffic, of course it would make for an easy way out.
The closer he got, the harder his heart pounded. The rot made him weak and brittle. Subspace was not used to exerting himself this much even before the accident, let alone with an ailment that ate his gear’s energy and his body like a parasite.
His legs almost faltered as he finally, finally reached the loading dock.
And there they ran, in all their dishonor.
The intruders.
He held a hand out, motioning the army of biografts to stop their pursuit until ordered otherwise.
And with a deep, heavy breath, one of many today, he yelled to the two.
”YOU!”
With quick work, they turned to Subspace, already armed in defensive positions. Now he could get a good look at their faces.
Two of them, their horns red and teal, holding gears that clearly were not theirs like they’ve owned it since spawn. The red-horned inphernal holstered a teal revolver while the other wielded a sword. Considering they matched their colors, it’s an educated assumption that they swapped gears at some point and had yet to give them back.
The red-horned inphernal had a helmet like that of a knight’s. It hid the upper half of their face, eyes barely visible, and made way for a pair of headwings. Their expression was unreadable, but Subspace had good reason to believe it was tense. They wore a coat of the same color— said coat was unzipped and covered nearly nothing— and a cape ripped at its base, exposing another pair of wings on the back. Surprising, because for an inphernal to have fully functioning wings was incredibly rare, only seen in the deities and their children. Subspace suddenly became a lot more wary.
Aside from that, the most he took out of the inspection was that their clothes were very unsuitable for Blackrock’s climate. The same couldn’t be said about the one who stood beside them, however.
The inphernal with teal horns wore a furry ushanka, a crystal of the same color floating in between their horns. It immediately concerned Subspace because how could they possibly know how to make that?
He shoved the worry aside for now. If all goes well, they shouldn’t be alive to share the knowledge.
A tuft of hair covered their left eye, vision partially impaired. He glanced at the fur-trimmed rim of their coat and the outfit’s multiple layers. Unlike their counterpart, they at least had the foresight to wear something warm, but it doesn’t look like it’d be easy to move in. He barely processed the holster on his thigh, most likely to carry the revolver currently being used by the other intruder.
Through Subspace’s “brief” inspection, he found it clear that these two were not citizens to the faction.
So how the hell did they get through Blackrock’s strict transportation, let alone into the Korblox Adminstration?
But these questions could be saved for later when he’s safe in his quarters.
For now, he raised his voice once more.
“Did you really think you could kill a Korblox official and manage to make it all the way home without a scratch on your skin?”
Subspace thinks he heard a scoff, followed by whispered lines he couldn’t quite hear and a humored huff of air. Were they mocking him?
He clicked his tongue. “Whispering and giggling like barely-there newspawns…”
“It’s almost like you don’t know the trouble you’re stuck in.”
He took a step forward, the intruders took a step back.
He is intimidating. This is working.
“It’s funny, really, truly,” Subspace laughed, almost maniacally. “To look into the minds of some of the inphinity’s stupidest.”
“It’d take a pittance of an inphernal to believe they could take on a whole government organization for as long as they live. An inphernal with nothing left to lose.”
The intruders did not falter their position, barely reacted, barely processing the words coming out of Subspace’s mouth.
His lengthy monologue was then rudely interrupted by the tired voice of the teal inphernal.
“I didn’t come here to listen to your diatribe.”
There was a combative glint in their one eye as they tightened their grip on the sword.
“Go ahead and attack us so we have an excuse to finish you off.”
Subspace’s breath hitched, but never faltered. He would never falter to those as lowly as terrorists.
“Well, if you’re so adamant on it.”
He flashed an unseen grin as he motioned for the biografts to march forth.
And in one word;
“Attack.”
The robots immediately shot ahead, launching their agile metal bodies at measly inphernals of flesh and blood.
The intruders were quick to react, jumping back to maneuver away from the initial lunge. The teal inphernal reacted with a lunge into the army while his counterpart stayed behind.
The sharpened blade grazed through the biografts with practiced ease, slicing through weak points the higher ups and Subspace hoped no one would notice or take into account upon production. Unfortunately, it seemed like these two in particular did a bit too much research before arrival. It brought back the question; How did they know all of this?
Although they were fast, the biografts were always faster. Through brief blocks and parries, they couldn’t prevent the wounds and grazes on the sides that were gained. But despite how much the Gods bless Blackrock’s technology, they persisted, adrenaline surging through the intruder as they walked off every injury as best as they could.
On the sidelines stood the red inphernal, who seemed to rely more on physical attacks than the other. They sustained more damage, but the blows still managed to immobilize the robots, allowing for a finishing blow.
They occasionally fired a bullet to the other, which Subspace realized actually healed their wounds. It explained how they were still standing through all the torn skin and split wiring.
In all of their persistence, they were growing tired, Subspace could tell.
So when the last things that remained of the army was scrap metal and false limbs, that’s when he decided to strike.
They looked frantically around their surroundings.
The red-horned inphernal spoke, audible for the first time since Subspace’s arrival. “Where the hell did he go?!”
Ironic that they ask, since they’ll be the first one to find out.
They barely had time to react before they were slammed head first into the pavement, unseen eyes blown wide at the shift.
‘Target the healer first’, Subspace thought, ‘and take out the real issue next.’
A scream of worry came from the other, a scream he didn’t feel like processing.
He sat a tripmine next to them, in case they tried to get up, and looked towards the next problem.
Lunging from his position, Subspace tried to grab onto the intruder, only to be blocked by the blade. His other hand scrambled for a weak spot, finding purchase in their unprotected stomach.
They let off a loud groan as nails scraped agonizingly against skin. Throwing Subspace off of them, a flash of glowing light in their free hand quickly spawned a briefcase— no, a first aid kit.
Was that their actual gear? Another question for future Subspace, as he got up from his position—
An explosion of gases radiated the air.
Seems like they finally got up.
The intruders began to cough as it permeated their senses, eyes watering, skin burning.
The red inphernal’s knees faltered, breaths shortening. The teal looked to be doing the same.
Subspace thought the winner was already decided, even as the pink smoke cleared out and allowed for more breathing room. Subspace thought there was no feasible way they could come back from something like this, as his mind didn’t process the teal intruder’s footing slowly coming back to them. Subspace thought it wasn’t possible to recover, he never could, and neither could they, not even as he watched the intruder open the casing and throw a crystal to the other, breaking on impact and slowly but surely giving back life to their fizzling breaths.
Subspace thought. Oh how he loved to think, but failed to see the reality occurring right in front of his eyes.
The gas fully fizzled out, and there they stood once more, with determination in their demeanors.
As good as new, the intruders.
Subspace’s breath hitched.
He laughed through the nerves, but he didn’t say a word. There were no words to say when those who had death written in their fate managed to escape and surpass it.
The red intruder fidgeted with the gun, changing settings. The teal turned towards Subspace with a stare that meant death.
They turned towards each other and spoke with only their eyes, then looked back towards Subspace.
And with one hand on the trigger to a clenched fist on their side, they fired a bullet.
It grazed Subspace’s ear by a hair, and it hurt.
It hurt.
He felt blood trickle down the side of his face.
A warning shot.
“What…”
His hand clenched into a fist, and he yelled, screamed.
“What did you do!?”
Off he traveled, disappearing to the untrained eye until he sank his claws into them from behind.
With no time to waste, the other inphernal sloppily slashed into his side. Clearly rushed, but it hit nonetheless, blood dripping from the wound and into his clothing.
They tried to get another hit on him, but he sidestepped out of the way, taking out a small pink crystal and aiming it into an open wound. It was painful for a while, but they quickly recovered and moved to his unguarded side to try another slash. Subspace just barely dodged only to bump into the other intruder. They grabbed onto his already pained bad arm and kicked him down.
He fell with a grunt. The excess pain exhausted him further, but he regained his bearings and disappeared once more.
But by this point his “trick” was getting old. Old and predictable. So much so, in fact, that the teal inphernal had learned to expect where he is and where he’d be coming from.
At the last possible second, they turned around on their heel and stabbed into the now fully visible Subspace.
He choked on his own blood, grabbing uselessly at the sword stuck in his stomach.
The intruder— looking right into his eye with a small damned grin on their face— proceeded to twist it.
Subspace could’ve screamed. Oh how he wanted to, but his throat was caught of his own bile and blood. The most that came out was a pained sputter.
They pulled the blade out, letting him fall to the ground. The wounded area wasn’t fatal, but with the exhaustion creeping in from exerting himself too much and the pain he’s already facing, it left him writhing in pain.
Now he was at only the intruder’s mercy.
“Well that’s a dramatic way to go out.” They began to speak. Subspace could barely process it over the sound of his heartbeat.
They continued, “I have to admit, you fought well. That gas almost had us there.”
“Well, mostly her, actually. I was just fine.” They gestured to the crystal in between their horns. A light voice huffed out a pouty ”Hey!” from behind them.
With the little motion he could do, Subspace stared at the inphernal with anger in his eye.
They looked slightly shaken, but continued nonetheless, “Don’t look at me like that. We’re just following orders.”
Subspace flinched as they plunged the sword into the ground next to his head. They put their weight onto it, looming menacingly.
“One of said orders was to kill anyone who got in our way.”
A finger dove under his chin, forcing eye contact that both of them squirmed over.
“It applies to you quite well, I think.”
The blade was taken out of the ground. They moved it over his head, and on the breaking verge of making contact,
“Wait!! You can’t kill him!!”
The red-horned intruder barged in.
The inphernal paused their movements. Subspace’s head moved to the source. “How come?”
“Uhm- how do I explain this…” she fidgeted with her hair, making a loose braid before unraveling it.
“He’s under protection from one of the Swords. Like- specifically Icedagger, so if you killed him, you’d be cursed to die, too.”
A look of confusion came from the one above him, which could also be seen on Subspace’s face as he tried to process everything going on. SFOTH protection? That he was under?
The teal intruder moved from above him, only standing in front of his body. “Why can’t you just ask her not to?”
“Oh my gods- it doesn't work like that! If we kill him, we’re automatically getting cursed, there’s no talking our way out of it!”
She continued, “Besides, I barely even know her like that. She’s one of the most unknown Swords to the public, how would I be any different?”
“I mean, you are associated with them.”
“By definition, you are too!”
Subspace began to get fed up with the duo’s nonstop bickering and attempted to get a garbled word out.
Keyword: attempted, because he was then immediately interrupted by a synchronized yell from the two to “Shut the fuck up”. To which he did indeed.
The other sighed tiredly, “Okay then. So do we leave him here or–”
“He’s seen our faces, they’ll know who to look for.”
“So then what do we do?”
A pause. A few seconds too long for the liking of Subspace. They were thinking really hard about this as he bled out on
the concrete, it was starting to get concerning.
Finally, the red inphernal spoke up, slamming her fist in her palm like she had an epiphany.
“Let’s take him with us for now!”
All the exhaustion left Subspace’s face. Take him where? With them??
The other thought over the idea for a little longer, then nodded. “Yeah, sure. But then what?”
“We ask the Swords what to do with him!”
Subspace thought the blood loss was making him hear things— asking the Swords? ‘Why do they have direct contact with the SWORDS??’
He was somewhat snapped out of his thoughts when they spoke up once more, “That works, actually. Let’s do it. Quickly though. They’re probably sending reenforcements.”
Subspace tried to scoot away, but he couldn’t quite move due to the large gaping wound in his belly and the already creeping exhaustion setting in, so he was more so wriggling in place instead. His voice came out weak, “Take me with you!? I’m not doing that! What the hell do you take me for—”
A finger was dragged across his lips as the perpetrator giggled to herself. Apparently even she thought the motion was ridiculous. “We aren’t asking, we’re telling.”
He’d love to describe the look on his face at that moment, but he didn’t have time to even process his reaction.
The last thing Subspace saw before blacking out was a fist being thrown in the direction of his jaw.
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Subspace woke up with a gasp.
The first thing he registered was the coldness of the room he now sat in.
The second thing was how his arms were restrained to the back walls.
And the third was that the wound on his stomach was bandaged and disinfected. At least they have some decency in them.
He couldn’t quite register his surroundings, however, because all he knew was that it was incredibly dark.
Even as his eyes adjusted, he couldn’t see anything beyond his body. The most he could see was the light through the small cracks of the double doors in front of him.
In front of him as in at least 20 feet away, probably way further than these chains could get him.
Goddamnit.
And through those cracks of light, he could see multiple locks on the door, all of which probably locked from the outside.
Double goddamnit.
He thought of using his gear to bomb this place and get him out of it, but then remembered that he’s comically energy deficient and they probably confiscated all of his crystals.
And besides…
He looked towards the glowing gear inhibitor on his leg.
Triple goddamnit!
Subspace sighed and leaned against the wall, waiting for his inevitable demise in the cold, dark room. He didn’t even know if he was still waiting for his declaration or if *this* was the punishment the Swords had planned for him. Whatever it was, he waited, and would continue to wait.
And wait he did. Oh gods, he waited.
He waited until around two hours later (he counted), when he finally heard footsteps walking towards the room. It both relieved him and stressed him out further at the same time.
The unlocking of a door made him perk up a little.
Whatever hope he had left was then quickly squished at the sight of who exactly had opened the door.
Them.
He couldn’t exactly call them “intruders” now, since they weren’t on Korblox premises, so what now? “The red one”? “The teal one”? It wasn’t the most formal, but it’d have to do. Maybe even “captors”? It fit a little better, but Subspace hated the title.
The red one stood in the doorframe, waving and giving a small smile. In any other situation, it would’ve felt normal. Comforting, even. But all it did right now was make Subspace more wary.
The teal one stared for a moment and walked into the room. The red one followed, closing the door behind her.
Oh, it may actually be over.
“Hi!” She greeted Subspace in a sing-song voice, only really adding to his nerves. The other said nothing at all.
She began speaking once more, “Okay–
“So, Med, you wanna do the honors?”
The teal one (Med?) nodded, beginning to speak.
“We spoke to the Swords.” They said, as if it was the most casual thing in the world.
The odd red inphernal spoke up again, “I mean- more so they spoke among themselves while we watched in the sidelines—”
“We told them the ordeal, and they debated it among themselves,” “Med” interrupted.
Subspace’s head pounded trying to wrap itself around what was happening.
“...And they said to spare you, under one condition.”
The red one added on, “We found that you’ve committed quite a few crimes against inphernalkind.”
She leaned in close, voice almost a whisper, “You know the SFOTH hate people like you, right?”
Subspace began to think. He knew most of the things he’s been doing weren’t exactly the most ethical, to say the least, but they were all for the greater good! The greatest achievements of inphernalkind all traced back to him, Blackrock’s brightest scientist. Who cares if there was a bit of newspawn death or blood spilled? It would all be for the betterment of the Inpherno at the end of the day!
Clearly, someone cared. Maybe a little too much.
“Buuut,” she continued, “they also couldn’t just kill you. So they came up with the next best solution!”
Subspace held his breath. Apparently she noticed, telling him “Oh, don’t be too scared! Med had the same treatment, if that comforts you a little!”
Embarrassingly enough, it actually did to an extent, considering the aforementioned “Med” was standing right here in front of him.
“You wanna say it together?” They began to talk to each other.
“Sure, why not.” “Med” said in reply.
The red inphernal’s look brightened a bit after that. “Okay then! On 3!”
The only thing the added suspension did was worry Subspace further, if that was even possible.
“1…2…3–”
“You’re working with us now!!”
“You’re going to help us kill people.”
“...Okay that’s very different tonally.”
“Med” nodded. “But you get the idea.”
Same meaning, two very conflicting tones, same reaction from Subspace.
Oh, he wanted to curl up and cry.
“So, here’s the deal.”
The red inphernal pulled out a contract, apparently rolled up in her hand.
“You are going to work with us, there is no way out of this situation. It’s only a matter of how quickly you sign the contract.”
She pulled out a pen, which Subspace genuinely believed that she had pulled from the depths of nowhere before remembering the existence of pockets. “Go ahead and sign it. Read over it later, it’ll ruin your eyes if you try to in the dark.”
“Eye, actually.” “Med” corrected.
“Oh! My bad- eye.” She said, as if disability inclusion was one of Subspace’s concerns at the moment.
Subspace thought for a moment, “And what if I didn’t?”
She blinked, “I’m sorry, what?”
He smirked, invisible behind his mask. Maybe there was a way out. “You heard me.”
The red inphernal feigned a shocked face. “Oh! Oh yeah, then we’ll just leave you here to die.” She clasped her hands together and shifted them to the side of her head apologetically.
Oh.
“I thought you couldn’t kill me?”
“Well, not directly.”
That explained it. A little.
Subspace was not stupid.
He never has been, never could be, and never would be. This is a fact, almost as much as that of a way of the world, a law of the universe.
At this point in time, he’s currently in a situation where he is kidnapped and being withheld in a cold, desolate room, being told to work under what he thinks to be the actual, real life Sword Fight on the Heights deities. If he denies, he will be stuck in this room, in the middle of who-knows-where, and left to die to lack of basic needs and the overcoming of his own illness. If he accepts, he’ll be put in a situation where he’s stuck with his kidnappers, doing the gods’ bidding to keep himself alive and stable.
Subspace is not stupid. He knows he’s not getting out of this.
‘Best to go down without a stir.’
He reached for the pen, which he then quickly realized he couldn’t do due to the chains binding his wrists.
“Oh- my bad!”, His captor said. “Let me just–”
With a bright flash of light, she summoned her gear— a longsword— (He knew they swapped gears back then!) and cut part of the chain binding his good arm.
Still cuffed to his hand, part of the chain still attached, but free to move. And so he reached for the pen once more and actually got it this time.
A teal-colored crystal, similar to his own, came from an outstretched hand and lit up the part of the paper where the signature was supposed to be written. This made Subspace realize he hadn’t heard from “Med” in quite a while.
He looked towards the source of the glow, to the hand holding it, to lead up to the painfully neutral face of the other captor. They caught sight of his staring and proceeded to scrape a few of their many legs on the floor, making an ear-grating sound similar to nails on a damn chalkboard. They gave him a glare similar to when they almost killed Subspace.
Good gods, okay.
He forgot the guy had extra legs, apparently. Maybe in the stress of the day, he’s forgetting basic knowledge of the Inpherno that he’s known since spawn. Next thing he knows, he’ll be forgetting that he even has a gear.
He turned back to the paper, breathing in what may be the deepest sigh of the day. Which was saying a lot, considering the many, many deep sighs he inhaled today.
He raised a shaky hand, letting it linger for a moment, before signing a sloppy signature.
He didn’t even know it was possible to physically feel a fate being sealed until then. Now he knew well.
The feeling of a hand wrapping around his soul, harshly snapping the string he’s been bound to all of his life. The same hand guiding another— this time warmer— string of fate, wrapping it around his soul and tying it into a pretty bow. The warmth spread through his soul, through his body, through his being, and swallowed him whole.
Subspace hated change. Hated the pain it could bring, the anxiety, the fear of the unknown.
This was no different. There was a shift in his life— no, a shift in his fate. The unfamiliar, warm, new fate set out for him. It was an uncomfortable feeling.
But in his mind, he knew.
“This is your last chance. Make it count.”
The voice in his mind spoke.
And that, he took to heart.
A voice took him out of his mind.
“Well then, looks like today’s your lucky day, hm?” “Med” said mockingly as the red inphernal overviewed the signature. She smiled at the proof. “Honestly? Probably not for him. It is for us, though! We needed some backup.”
They both looked down towards him. “Med” unlocked the chain over his other wrist, making him a free man. The red… coworker(?) then offered a hand out towards him.
“Welcome to our team, Subspace.” She gave him a smile. Subspace couldn’t tell if it was genuine or not.
Wait-
“How’d you know my name?”
“The Swords mentioned it.” “Med” butted in, “We didn’t find it professional to be on a first name basis until you signed the contract.”
Subspace looked at them like they were stupid. They probably were, honestly.
“How is it fair that you get my name and I don’t get yours?! If we’re working together, you should at least have the basic decency to give me your names! Do you genuinely think-”
He was interrupted by a firm grip on his shoulder. A little too firm, actually. It started to hurt. Surprisingly sharp nails scraped against his shoulder.
“Do you ever shut up?” They said through gritted teeth. “You’re lucky we even spared you– you realize I could’ve killed you right then and worried about the curse later, correct?”
Clicking his tongue, he spat back. “And you’re already talking about killing me! Didn’t we just become coworkers? Aren’t you meant to be giving me some sort of welcoming party?”
Their grip on his shoulder tightened. “We have no need to be having cake over Blackrock’s favorite showpony.”
‘Blackrock’s favorite showpony’!? “You little-”
“Okay, okay, calm down!” the light voice intercepted. “The guy doesn’t even know our names! At least save the phights for after introductions!”
“Med” released their grip on Subspace’s shoulder.
The red inphernal continued, “Now then! My name is Sword, and his name is Medkit.”
Sword and Medkit. He actually could’ve guessed that, since he’s seen their gears before.
“Very nice to meet you, Subspace T. Mine.” Medkit offered up a shaky hand.
Subspace smirked, “Pleased to meet you, too, Medkit.” His voice dripped of venom as he grabbed Medkit’s hand, motioned into a handshake led by the other. Subspace “accidentally” gripped his hand with his claws, squeezing to the point where it almost drew blood. Medkit visibly winced, but didn’t say anything in return.
Sword seemed happy enough. She always did though, concerningly so.
“Now that we’re all on a gear-name basis, we should show Subspace to his temporary residence! Just until we find an arrangement for him, okay?”
Medkit nodded and motioned for him
to follow them out the door. Subspace didn’t really hesitate with this decision, as he was incredibly, incredibly tired.
But as soon as they both walked through the doorframe, Subspace heard a familiar voice.
Kill them. Kill them where they stand.
You’ll be out of here and back to the safety of Korblox, the familiar cold of Blackrock.
Slice them, split them open with your claws, until they’re nothing but meat and bone.
You need to kill them, Subspace. Right now. Now or never-
And Subspace, in all honesty, was a weak, painfully impulsive inphernal.
He sprinted, full speed, giving his greatest lunge, into the direction of Medkit.
It should’ve hit, it really should’ve. But, unfortunately for Subspace, Medkit was everything but unaware.
He suddenly sidestepped and held a foot out, tripping Subspace and letting him fumble and fall out the doorway pathetically.
Sword blinked at the sight of Subspace face-first on the floor.
“...That may have been the worst attempt at a sneak attack I've seen, actually.” She giggled, picking him up off the floor by the scruff of his neck like a disobedient cat. “You do realize you can’t kill us, right?”
Subspace shook his head, not actually in response, just in an attempt to clear up his head. Sword plopped him down onto his feet and nudged him on to continue walking before taking time to explain.
“Well, it’s in the contract. Like- the one you just signed. Unless you want to die in that cellar, you “can’t hurt us with the intent to kill”, or whatever the wording was.”
Subspace was about to complain and question the obvious for the nth time today, but was cut off by Sword. “Yes, it applies to us, too. You’re not the only one who’s mad they can’t get any kills in.” She said, not-so discreetly glancing at Medkit.
“I can hear you,” said a voice from in front.
“I’m not trying to hide anything!” Sword said in return.
Subspace took the time to actually examine his surroundings. An expensive, large building with a confusing maze of hallways the untrained could easily get lost in and marble flooring. Through the large windows, Subspace could see it was night outside. It was strange to think that this was right outside whatever dark, cold room he was being held in, although maybe it was a temporary arrangement?
He processed the many passages turning into large, open rooms that turn into long, winding hallways that lack windows that only serve as passageways into the many smaller rooms he could see.
After around 15 minutes of walking (he counted again), they landed at one of the many doorways.
“We’re here.” Medkit said. He opened the door to what would be his temporary residence.
It was fixed like a small, one bed hotel room. A queen sized bed, surprisingly no television, a small kitchenette, and an even smaller shower.
Sword spoke up, “This will be your home for around one or two days until we find out what to do with you!” How straightforward, but Subspace wasn’t complaining.
He stared at the setting with a blank face and walked in. He was extremely tired by this point, and just wanted to sleep. It would’ve ended there if he wasn’t stopped by the two who still stood in the doorway.
“Oh- wait!”
Subspace turned around, visibly irritated. Sword scratched behind her headwings while Medkit fidgetted with his tailcoat.
“So like- how do I word this–”
Medkit cut her off, “You’re going to need to resign from your position as head scientist.”
Subspace froze.
“You’re kidding, right?”
Sword shook her head ‘no’, while Medkit just stood there, eyeing subspace up like he knew the answer.
“That, too, was in the contract,” Sword said. “Actually, it’d be better if you just read it yourself.” She held out the rolled up paper, which was snatched out of her hand by Subspace.
He didn’t even read it before throwing it in the direction of the bed, turning back to look towards the others. “You can’t do that– you could never! Blackrock is my life! I can’t just quit now!”
A short but stuffy silence ran through the room. Sword was the first to break it, “I mean, we pay really well, if that’s what you’re worried about–”
A horrible attempt. The silence broke, but shards ripped the skin of her hands in the process. She was softly nudged in the side by Medkit before realizing that she, once again, failed miserably at reading the room.
Medkit looked at Subspace, speaking. “We really can’t debate over this. I’m sorry for this, but it was written by the gods themselves. They specified, and all we do is deliver.”
Subspace looked at them like they were stupid before laughing humorlessly. “No, no, you don’t get it. With lives as cushy as yours, you’ll never know what it feels like to lose the source of your life–”
He was promptly cut off by Medkit, “We do.”
Subspace paused.
“To work under the deities is like selling your soul. They don’t understand mortals or the value of their lives, they never truly will, so everything you do for them comes at a risk or a cost.
“I sacrificed something, so has Sword, and so will you.”
He stared directly at Subspace, continuing, “Trust us when we say we wish it didn’t have to be like this.
“But we are not the deities, and our words matter little to them. And until they can hear our voices, then we’ll keep losing, and losing, for every action we take in their name.”
Subspace went quiet.
So did Sword, for some reason. She made loose braids with the hair she could touch. Subspace assumed it was a nervous tick.
Medkit talked once more, “Send in your letter by the end of the week. Going in person is an option, but it’s highly unrecommended.”
He left the doorway, leaving only Subspace and Sword. The latter of which seemed to be zoned out. Subspace simply stared.
“Oh! Uh-” She snapped back to reality, looking towards Subspace. “Whatever Med said! I honestly stopped listening after the part about loss, aha.” Very nondescript, since the entire monologue described it.
She unplaited her hair, sending Subspace off with a wave.
“Goodnight, Subspace!” She said as the door closed behind her.
And Subspace was finally alone.
He immediately flopped into the bed. Sweat and injuries be damned, and the contract he could read tomorrow.
He stared at the ceiling blankly.
So this was his life now.
He sighed, the last of the day.
Tomorrow would be a long, long day.