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"And haiyah!"
Shedletsky exclaims, swatting away the voidstar in N0L1's hand to protect Taph behind him. At the same time, the demolitionist had finished placing down their tripwire.
The three watch as the star flies over the wall beside them, falling past the edge of the map.
Shedletsky lets out a long whistle.
Taph lets out a sigh of relief.
N0L1 cackles, knowing what comes next.
Distantly, 007n7 shouts. Also knowing what comes next.
"WE'RE SO FUCKE—"
And the map explodes in a blinding flash of white.
"Throw the voidstar into the void, clever move."
"Either that or Taph dies with his glorious 1%."
"Ya could'a just… Knocked N0L1 off the fortress?"
"Well forgive me for trying to bring some pizzazz into my eternal purgatory."
As always per round end, the two admins are arguing in the corner by the stairs.
Dusekkar went off to the back tables with Taph's arm slung over his shoulder, both disoriented by the abrupt round end.
The demolitionist seemed to have been hit hard, their composition far more frail than the admins protecting him then and now.
A heavily dizzy Guest is on the couch with a less dizzy Chance, unconsciously rubbing the scar on his forehead. Chance, with his fair share of explosions that round, made sure to check on the soldier to make sure his mind didn't go back to the battlefield.
Elliot honestly envies the guy's sunglasses.
Maybe if he had some of his own, he wouldn't have to hold in a laugh after seeing 007n7 nearly trip on his way out of the cabin, swaying side to side.
While he'd be willing to help the man, seeing as they've all been here long enough to set aside their differences to work together, 007n7 still preferred his solitude. And Elliot respected that.
Maybe it was familiar. Familiar was the only closest thing to normal they could get. To when they could hear their own breath, when pain wasn't as vivid of a memory as it is now.
"The Spawn would have shielded me had they known of the light's impulse. But it seems even they were struck by surprise, for I had not received such generosity."
Said Two Time, rubbing his eyes on their way down the stairs. Beside him, Noob assisted.
"H-He suddenly yelled and rubbed their eyes… I'm glad I wasn't spectating with them b-but we still want to know what happened…"
Elliot sighs, leaning on the beam behind him. His eyes still burn. Especially at the sight of Shedletsky's and Builderman's exchange.
"Honestly, I don't think we know either. I wasn't near the chaos."
Noob sighs, their gaze moving to Elliot's subject of attention.
"But they were?"
"Apparently."
"Then we wait."
"W3LL, W-W0ULD Y0U L00K 4-4T TH4T."
Somehow, his antivirus started running.
N0L1 mutters, looking at the loading screen on his floating panel. Actively ignoring the conversation in the opposite corner of the room.
"So if Mister N0L1 lost… and everyone else lost… then who won?"
"THE FIRST TIE IN THIS PURGATORY. I NEVER THOUGHT I'D SEE IT."
"That's so stupid."
"Hmph. If I were him, I would've made it explode pink instead."
Less conversation, more like a bunch of children speaking their thoughts with the creation of hatred. The only people who are willing to talk and can talk in this whole place.
Beep!
[ !! PR0GR4M 3RR0R. SH-TT1–G D0—N— ]
Red binary fizzles around the panel, slowly submerging it completely in black and red. It lets out a few distorted error beeps before forcibly being shut down and sputtering away from the visible plane.
With a sigh, he leans back further into the couch.
Leave it to the Spectre to limit his shit. The entity always demanded control over the littlest things, like John's memory and Azure's voice.
Not like it did anything to actually shackle the latter man to its whims— the hat would yell curses while the man himself would just… walk. And chill. Sometimes silently glare at dead or unwell flowers like it offended him.
That's why the Spectre would only ever send him into a round when they were angry. Only then will it get the entertainment it wants.
Beep!
[ !! PR0GR4M R3ST4RT SUCC3SS. ]
[ W3LC0M3 US3R "N0L1" ! ]
Huh?
His gaze falls back down to the space in front of him, at the floating panel he hadn't realized had returned.
Either someone came to talk about his car's extended warranty or his old GUI is actually working.
N0L1 unconsciously fiddles with the void star in his hand, the once four-pointed star now eight-pointed after being thrown in the void.
He's still unsure of what actually caused the change. If it's the void somehow finding a way to bless him for his sublime dash combo last round or the Spectre editing his code again, it'll be a long while before he figured it out.
Yes, he was aware of the Spectre's meddlings. No, he's not falling for it. Yes, he's just playing along for the fame. The game.
But whatever it is, one thing's for sure. The new-and-improved void star somehow brought his GUI back. And was probably why his old antivirus came back to life.
Which was probably a bad thing, considering he never actually polished the code behind it, remaining eternally as a concept more than a product. Funnily enough, it kept mistaking his own code as a virus and acted more like a self destru-
Oh. Oh no.
His fingers tap wildly on the floating panel, the star (more like mini sun) now floating beside his head.
It doesn't take long before he sighs, disappointed but unsurprised.
"4H $H-H-H1T, H3R3 W3 G0 4-4G41Π."
The antivirus ate his fucking code again.
And it somehow affected his vocal distortion as well, worsening the problem further.
"BЯU-U-UHH[HHHH]."
A bit of scrolling and lo and behold, there were holes in the raw code behind it.
To normal eyes, nothing would've changed. But for a thorough hacker like him, he easily saw the floating variables, the empty functions.
Or maybe it was just because he long ago memorized his own code…
"W4-1T[TT]."
Right under the block of code meant for voice-changing (a favourite function of his back then), stray strands of binary scattered like spilt spaghetti, unaligned with any proper lines of text.
It could've been a visual bug he caused by a technical error, but the binary in red, pixelated font instead of the fan favourite Courier New immediately gave away what it was.
Like a whisper in his ear, the floating voidstar thrummed where it idled beside his head.
N0L1 grins.
[ DUPL1C4T1NG F1L3 . . . ]
[ F1L3 "n0lsGUI(1)" S4V3D. ]
[ "n0lsGUI(1)" R3N4M3D T0 "0G-n0lsGUI" ]
[ F1L3 "0G-n0lsGUI" CL0S3D. ]
[ N0W 3D1T1NG "n0lsGUI" ]
And he immediately got to work.
From a distance, Mafioso's gaze narrows at the ancient god's newfound vigor.
007n7 ran.
Much to the confusion of Noob, who was about to leave their generator for the hacker to do only for him to run past.
It shouldn't be too hard to run around in Underground War. At least he hopes, because he wasn't athletic at all. Noodles were his only meal back then, and pizza wasn't any better.
No, focus. Keep your eyes peeled. You know what you need to find.
Builderman is building a sentry up the stairs, as always, right beside…
"There."
He rushes to the generator immediately. This time, it's Builderman that's confused.
"Aren't ya the one who always pulls people off o' fakes?"
"Y-yeah." 007n7 replies, fixing the generator deliberately slowly.
"And aren't cha faster than that?"
"…Trust the process?"
"Sure, 07. Just don't be stupid."
007n7 nods in reply, consciously holding the second puzzle's last pair of wires apart. While waiting for his current stack of Hallucination to end, he fixes his position to sit cross-legged in front of the generator.
Surprisingly, Builderman hasn't left.
"…07."
"I need to t-talk to N0L1 about that round. And uh- I'm gonna keep him here in blue side?"
Hallucination expires mid-sentence, so 007n7 continues speaking while fixing the fake generator once more.
"So uh, not that I'm forcing you or anything, but I think—I recommend that you should build your dispenser under red side…"
"…I see."
Although skeptical, Builderman himself also wanted to know more about the unexpected nuclear wipeout.
007n7 was the only one he was sure to have any sort of concrete answer. But if even he felt the need to ask the culprit himself…
"Make sure ta' get results. I'll have the others watch over from afar just in case your plan falls backwards."
Grateful for his trust and support, 007n7 mustered a small smile and gave the admin an appreciative nod.
Satisfied, Builderman hops oover the edge and bolts away.
And 007n7 resumed his very, very hyperactive generator repair, with the wires he held in place eagerly waiting to be tied together.
…Shoot. He forgot to ask Builder to not do generators to save time.
But did he even have a right to ask favors from an admin? The same ones he once saw as a threat to his harmful hobbies?
No.
Oh well.
No time to think about it now, not when he can hear distorted lyrics (they probably were lyrics) rapidly approaching his location.
"…Holy shit holy shit holy sh— NOLI!"
There was nothing left of the Server. The whole place was gone, his respawn forced into another Server by the Hub's protocols.
"NOLI!"
Who the fuck keeps nukes in a fucking glass cube anyway!?
He brute forced his way back into the lingering corrupted code of ■■■■■■■, immediately sending out tracker clones to start a one-man search party.
Not a single ping returned true.
"NOLI!"
Until then, he keeps running.
"Dammit dammit dammit…"
Ding!
"S3-3-3V3NN!" Something screeched.
No, someone.
Seven turns around in the direction of the ping, right where the running was coming from.
A patchwork of reconstructed skin, different hues and shades mixed together to replicate his former image. A voice distorted by static, but more recognizable than anything else of him.
"1-1T'S 4LL G0NE! N0 TR4C3!"
Terror shook his abberant voice.
"TH3 WH0L3 G4-4-4M3 G0T 0-0BL1T3R4T3D!"
And albeit a different reason from his partner's fright, 007n7 shook in horror for the first time.
"1 V1V1DLY R3M3MB3R TH3 L4ST T1M3 Y0U SCR3AM3D F0R M3 L1K3 TH1S."
007n7 was panting harshly, his back pressing into the corner for the sake of remaining syanding.
His throat had gone rough after a few attempts in talking to the self-proclaimed god, his ankle bent at an angle unfavorable.
The only thing keeping N0L1 from killing him was the very much real shield that Dusekkar managed to summon on time.
"0BL1T3R4T10N. TH4T D4Y W4S 4 M1L3ST0N3 1ND33D. MY ST3LL4R R3B1RTH."
But despite the very real threat in front of him patiently waiting for the shield to pop, 007n7 felt something was off.
The eight-pointed star. N0L1's newfound vocabulary freedom.
[ click 2 h4x!!1! ]
007n7 squints, carefully typing in the right commands.
"1 W0ULD'V3 TH4NK3D Y0U F0R 1T 4ND G1VEN Y0U 3V3RYTH1NG 1N R3TURN, H4V3 US RUL3 TH1S W0RLD T0G3TH3R L1K3 W3 W3R3 4LW4YS M34NT T0 B3…"
[ h4xxing in pr0gr3ss…!!1! ]
The god tosses the star up again and again in thought, every catch echoing in the silence like a countdown.
"BUT N0W 1 KN0W, [S3V3N]…"
The shield pops.
N0L1 grins.
The star thrums in his raised palm.
"TH4T TH3 SP0TL1GHT W4S 0NLY 3V3R M34NT F0R M3."
007n7 blocks the star from exploding on his face, his forearms taking the blow instead.
[ oh̸͔͇͊̓͊́ n̴̨̛̝͂̐̓͋̀͝o̵̻̻̝̪̻̫͆͜͜e̷̲̭̹̻̜̳̬̹̖̖̠͙͆̍ͅs̷̨̨̡̟̻͇̦̠͚̬̻̹̥̗͕̗̤̤͓͗̍̐͌̃͆̆̔̾̇̅̋̚̕ ]̸̣̠̞̺͔̻͍̘̞̥͈̘̖͔̭̘̝̄̽͋̽̇̋̌̌̓̅̌͂͗͐̋̀͂͌̇̐̊̀͑̀̀̇́̽̕͘͘
That doesn't mean it didn't hurt any less.
007n7 lets out a strangled yell, failing to suppress the sound. N0L1 grabs him by the side of his head, slamming him into the ground away from the flying pizza.
Before he even took the chance to stand, the god's rotting foot pinned his head in place.
The realization of N0L1 being barefoot distracted him from the glitches popping up where his watch would've been, if it survived the void star's explosion just now.
"M4YB3 W1TH MY G-G1FT, Y0U'D R3TURN…" He murmurs.
From behind N0L1, he can see Chance hurriedly raising his gun.
N0L1 raises his foot, grinning madly.
"4ND PR0V3 T0 3-3-3V3RY0N3 TH4T Y0U'R3 ST1LL THE S4M3 ÆSSH0L3—H4-4CK3R—TR41T0-0-0R—"
N0L1's words overlap into a mass of incoherent syllables. Incoherent, maybe only because he saw his own brain matter sputter out through the corner of his eyesockets a second before respawning in his cabin.
But the gore of his demise wasn't his main concern right now. He shoots up, staring at his wrist where N0L1 had thrown the star at.
His watch, usually black and glowing red, was now magenta instead.
His hair stood at the sight of it. And by reflex, he summons a new pair of glasses.
…He grinned. Only for a second. He catches himself immediately, relaxing his face to put on his new (actually old— this was a spare) set of glasses.
The pink frame still as fresh as when he cloned it, the lenses just as clear.