Chapter Text
Red skies of black smog covered the city. Metal buildings loomed over the streets, casting shadows over the already dark landscape. Just minutes ago citizens weighed down by exhaustion trudged down the automatically moving streets. Now, they were locked indoors, shivering in corners. Watching as the mechanical guards flew through the area like hounds on the hunt. Anytime they caught someone outside, they scooped that person up and threw them into the nearest building. Glass shattered as bodies crashed to the ground. Screams pierced from inside. The robots kept hunting.
“Lockdown initiated. All New Yoke Citizens are to remain indoors.”
The message was repeated by each robot. Over and over. Monotonous and mechanical in its delivery. A warning siren that didn’t need to screech into the air, choosing instead to cut the air in half by use of plainly delivered speech.
A little girl peeked out from a crack in her window shades. Her eyes widened at the giant plume of smoke trailing into the sky at the head of the city. Spotlights from drones surrounded the smoke plume, their harsh golden light slicing across the smog.
The little girl leaned closer, opening the window a little more to get a better look. She yelped when a robot suddenly appeared in front of her window, shining two postlights into her bedroom. The girl crawled away from the window and hid underneath her bed. She covered her mouth with her hands to hide her shaky breathing.
The robot’s lights scanned the bedroom a moment longer. Then, it flew away with a mechanical whirr of its engines.
Citizens rushed inside stores and neighbors’ houses to avoid the robots’ ire. Terrified for their lives, willing to embrace strangers for the sake of survival, yet unaware of the cause behind the alarms.
At the center of New Yoke City was a vast patch of empty land, blocked off from the rest of the city by wired fencing. Chemicals, blood, and bodies stained the dead, dusty ground. Destroyed robots sparked and twitched from where they laid, limbs broken off, lenses cracked, and metal casings torn apart. Surrounding them were corpses of people. Men, women, children, even the elderly. Crying infants laid in the arms of dying mothers. Bundled in rags. Skinnier than they should be. Eyes rimmed by rings of red.
A figure in a black ragged cloak walked amongst the corpses. Watching the dying take their last breaths. Studying the faces forever frozen in shock, horror, and pain. Listening to the infants’ cries but making no moves toward them. Pale, boney fingers curled around two objects in their hands.
In the left, a lantern holding blue fire. In the right, a tall silver scythe with an ebony handle.
The black figure moved closer to one of the bodies: a mother beagle and her child cradled against her chest. The figure knelt down, letting go of the lantern so it could float above the body. The flames burned brighter as a small light floated out of both bodies, disappearing into the lantern. Once the lights were inside, the fire dimmed and the figure stood.
The figure’s cloak flowed in the soft, dusty wind as it moved. Decay, rot, oil, and blood flooded the air. The figure paid it no mind, all its focus trained on the bodies that surrounded it. Each light from each corpse was handled with great care. Each light made the lantern’s fire burn brighter for a few seconds before dimming to its original state.
Other robots appeared to collect their fallen brethren. They paid no mind to the cloaked figure, and in turn the cloaked figure paid no mind to them.
Eventually, the cloaked figure moved towards the center of the yard.
A large sinkhole stood in the center. Plumes of dark smoke leaked up towards the sky, joining the clouds of smog looming overhead. Surrounding it were bodies charred beyond recognition. Burnt to a crisp.
All except one. Red fur. Long dreadlocks. Mitts clenched into fists that were barely holding their shape. Mouth set in a firm snarl.
The figure knelt next to them, lantern floating above while their free hand hovered over the body’s chest. A glowing red light erupted out of the body, causing the lantern to glow much brighter than it had for the others. The figure paused at the intensity of the light only for a second before continuing with their work.
They approached the edge of the hole. Despite all the smoke and sparks of ember that floated upwards, obscuring the bottom, the figure could see it all with immaculate clarity. They descended the hole with a small jump.
Their shoes clacked against a metallic floor. Walls of metal and soil bent outwards in unnatural ways, twisting into spiraling patterns that reached all the way up to the surface. Robotic corpses melded into the walls. Mechanical limbs twitched, reaching out as though to grab something, or signal for help. Though they were inside the walls, their bodies were still functioning.
The figure paid no mind to the beeping machinery, instead making their way towards the corpses that lay scattered about. Some were in pieces. Some were trapped inside the walls just like the robots. Some were burnt. Some were melted. Hot flesh wafted through the air, mixing with oil, burning metal, and crackling electricity. A nauseating combination should anyone else come down.
The figure approached the bodies one by one, collecting their lights and storing them in their lantern. They were careful of those who had been melted into puddles. They held the lantern up to the walls to call those who were trapped beyond their reach.
At some point the smoke cleared to reveal a long corridor of metallic blue now scorched an ugly black. One filled with machinery, tools, tables, shelves, and other miscellaneous things.
But all that mattered were the bodies. And the lights that they produced. Always telling them where they laid.
The figure traveled further down the corridor. Bodies became more numerous. Their original shapes were morphed into unfathomable sights. The corridor split off into different paths that led to different rooms. The figure walked down each path, collected the lights from corpses or lingering in the air, then moved on.
Eventually, the figure came across an opening at the end of the main corridor. The doorway had been forced into a much wider entryway, surrounded by small fires that continued to burn. Three bodies laid in a wobbly line towards the door. The figure knelt by each one and collected their lights. Once that was done, they entered the room.
It was bigger than the others. With larger pieces of machinery, each broken, twisted, or melted in extravagant ways. More than thirty bodies were present, the most out of all the rooms. At the center of the room were two tubes. Both were connected to a pair of large coils that spread all around, and most likely beyond. Three bodies clung to the sides of each tube.
Someone stood in front of the display.
The figure paused.
They were clad in an indigo cloak that swayed in the faint wind flowing through a breeze the figure could not feel. Their posture was straight, body still as a statue, limbs pressed gently against their sides underneath fabric. Six dark purple quills -each coated in a light violet stripe- protruded out from the back of the head. Four groupings along the outside curved up, while the one on top and the middle segment curved down. They too flowed in the impossible wind.
All of a sudden, the room felt cooler. Not in a chilly way, but more akin to a summer’s night when the sun sets. Any trace of burning fires had been snuffed out.
The figure stared at the purple individual curiously. They slowly knelt down next to a bat with charred white fur and melted wings. Her light shone in a gentle turquoise before being stored into the lantern.
They continued on with their work. Keeping the other in sight. Watching their body language for any changes. Taking note of the cool temperature.
The figure didn’t need to get closer to know there were two bodies inside those tubes. Two bodies. Two souls that had enraptured the other for decades.
The figure didn’t rush. They took their time, as they always did, collecting light after light without disturbing the environment. At last they came to the center, standing a few paces behind the purple figure while collecting the light of a mangled platypus. They looked up at the other once they were done.
For a long minute, neither said anything. Neither figure moved. The purple one continued to stare at the tubes while the black figure simply watched.
A room exploded behind them. A corridor collapsed. Bodies were buried under debris while metal groaned in protest of the shifting weight.
Neither figure made any move.
Then, without a word, without hurry, the black figure moved forward. They kept a few paces away from the purple one as they passed, kneeling beside the bodies outside the tubes to collect their lights. Once done they let the lantern settle above the tube before reaching their hand over the shattered glass.
That was when they froze.
Like invisible chains holding them back, like time stopping around their form, the figure found themself unable to further approach the body. They couldn’t even command their lantern to collect. Its fire protested, wispy tendrils whipping against its casing. Slowly, the figure turned their head.
Bright golden eyes stared back. Floating in a sea of purple. As neutral and seemingly emotionless as the rest of their expression.
But the figure knew better.
They stared at each other for a long while. Unblinking. Unmoving. Unchanging in their expressions.
Eventually, the black figure sighed, hanging their head.
“They are gone,” they said simply, their voice echoing through the air like a frosty chill, “their light has been extinguished.”
The purple figure said nothing.
The black figure tapped the bottom of their scythe against the ground. The lantern glowed in dozens of blue shades. Their hand cracked as it was released from its hold. They took a second to flex their boney fingers to alleviate any lingering stiffness. The figure stared at the golden eyed intruder once more.
“You are to watch, Great One. I am to collect.”
The lantern glowed again as a pillar of blue light shot up around the purple figure. Their cloak followed the movement of the ethereal wind, bits of frost growing along the pristine ends of the fabric. Some of the figure’s quills also began frosting over. Golden eyes stayed locked on the black figure.
The figure turned away to resume their work. They looked down at the charred body inside. At the melted, mangled, shriveled corpse of the person it used to be. The figure raised the lantern back over the body and lowered their hand over the chest area, ready to collect the light once it appeared.
In an instant, the air -no- the entirety of existence cracked all around the figure. They didn’t have time to freeze before everything around them, even their physical form, shattered to the ground like shards of glass. Six aggravatingly long seconds passed before the figure’s senses could even begin to reform. They could feel their very essence being shifted. Transported to another location.
Their vision swam until red skies, black smog, and blinding bright metallic buildings came into focus. They didn’t leave the city. No. They were in another part of it. Far away from their quarry. Stumbling along the edge of a rooftop. Their scythe dropped to the ground. As they recollected themself, they quickly realized that the lantern was no longer with them.
The figure gazed over the rooftop towards the city. A city that was suffocating on fumes and ambition. With death having long taken root at its core, seeping to the surface through cracks in the infrastructure. Whispering into the ears of the living.
Attempting to teleport back to their original spot was pointless; they could feel it. The purple figure had blocked them. Blocked them from their work. Their assigned duty.
The black figure sighed. They made their way down the roof and drifted through the city like a ghost. Quiet. Untouchable. Invisible. They drifted along with purpose. Without rush.
Because regardless of the Great One’s attempts, inevitably, Death comes for all.
Even after the black hoodlum had been taken care of, existence continued to shatter. However, the cracks, the fracturing, the way reality was coming apart at the seams, it was all relegated to one specific area.
The twin tubes.
It kept going until all that remained was a void of black. It swallowed the tubes whole, leaving behind a gaping hole that should not be.
Nova stepped through the old geezer’s barrier without issue, shaking the frost out of their quills with a full body shiver. They then waved the ends of their cloak around to shake off the rest of the frost. They stepped into the void.
Silence that was heavier than silence greeted their senses. To any mortal, existing in such a place would drive them mad. Nova stepped towards the tubes, eyeing both of them, and the three hitchhikers still clinging to the outside. With a wave of their hand, the bodies rippled until their charred, mangled remains, had reformed into proper corporeal bodies. With proper, corporeal features.
An orange fox with two tails and nine mechanical limbs. A pink hedgehog with cybernetic limbs. A chipmunk-squirrel lady with disheveled hair that Nova quickly styled back into place with another flick of their hand.
All of their eyes were closed as though they were asleep. Their bodies jerked away from the tubes like puppets on a string, before gently being laid down outside the void.
Nova’s eyes flicked back to the first tube to study the body inside. Or rather, what was left a body: melted flesh and marrow surrounding half-dissolved ribs of an open chest cavity. Four golden rings dulled by dirt. With a slow wave of their hand, the body -like the others- reformed into something more tangible.
Black quills. Red stripes. White chest fur. Tan muzzle. A few scars from past skirmishes including one over the left eye. Tattered remnants of a royal blazer. Face frozen in a frustrated grimace that hid insurmountable levels of pain and fear.
Nova studied the individual for a good, long moment. They turned to the next tube and waved their hand again.
Blue quills. Tan muzzle. Tattered white gloves. Face more openly in pain with dry tear stains. Torn-up blue jacket. Purple markings pulsing along the skin.
Nova smiled sadly at the two. They padded over to the black hedgehog first, rubbing the top of their head in a tender manner. Their hand slid down the side of the hedgehog’s face to hold the side of their chin. Their thumb rubbed against the fur in a tiny, single circle.
“Sorry things turned out this way,” Nova whispered.
They leaned down to touch their forehead against the hedgehog’s.
“You’re going far away to rest now. Enjoy it with the ones you love.”
Nova scratched the hedgehog behind his left ear, staring at him with somber affection. Then, with a little headbutt, they stepped back. They looked at the blue hedgehog’s tube next. They walked over, leaning down to repeat the motion of rubbing his head as well.
“You fought hard. Right to the end. I’m only sorry your gamble didn’t pay off.”
Nova leaned down to touch their forehead with the hedgehog’s.
“Don’t be afraid. Where he’s going, you’re going to. You’ll love it there. You all will.”
Nova stood up, but not before scratching the blue hedgehog behind the ear. They stepped back.
Sad golden eyes flicked between the two bodies. With a gesturing motion of their hand, the geezer’s blue lantern floated into view, hovering in between the two hedgehogs’ makeshift caskets.
Nova outstretched both hands. Both hedgehogs’ bodies began to glow. Two small orbs of light -one green and one red- floated out of their chests, circling the lantern before being absorbed into the flames. A third orb wiggled its way out of the blue hedgehog’s chest. This one was smaller than the other two, and light purple in color.
“There you are,” Nova smirked.
They called the orb over with a single finger. It floated clumsily through the void before settling into the center of Nova’s palm.
“Now how did you end up in a place like this?”
The orb shimmered. Nova’s smirk grew. They opened part of their cloak and let the orb float inside. Once it was secured, Nova turned back to the lantern and the tubes. They snapped their fingers.
Reality refilled the empty void until it was completely sealed. Dim lighting and rot flooded Nova’s senses, causing them to sneeze. A handkerchief appeared midair, which they used to wipe their nose with a sniff.
“‘Scuse me,” they said, pocketing the item.
They looked back at the bodies. Then at the other three they restored which were all laying in a neat row a few feet away. Nova placed their hands on their hips with a sigh. They tilted their head back, staring at the twisted, rotting ceiling hanging from above. They glanced at the walls to their sides, at the medical tables and robots scattered about in half-melted, half-burnt piles of who-knew-what at this point.
Nova turned back to the bodies. They held one hand out, sweeping it over the hedgehogs in the tubes, as well as the other three bodies. One by one, each body turned into a bed of flowers.
Sunflowers for the blue hedgehog. Lavender for the black hedgehog. Pink roses for the pink hedgehog. Cosmos for the fox. Peonies for the chipmunk lady.
Nova turned on their heel to stare at the white bat. The first one the geezer collected when they entered. They waved their hand in a slow, sweeping motion.
Just like before, the corpse slowly transformed into a proper body: a beautiful white bat in a combat uniform and purple wings that were no longer melting at her sides. Her elegant eyelashes grew back in place to compliment her radiant pink eyeshadow. As soon as the body took on its full form, she too turned into a bed of flowers.
Bleeding hearts. A rather peculiar name for a rather peculiar flower.
Nova nodded their head, satisfied. They turned back to the other flowerbeds, their gaze lingering on the sunflowers and lavender the longest. With a somber, reluctant sigh, they waved their hand once more. In a gust of quiet, gentle wind, all the flowers were carried into the air. They joined together above the tubes, with the bat’s quickly joining the ensemble, until they were spinning in a stunning skinny tornado of color. The sunflower led the way as they all floated towards the entrance. Nova followed behind at a leisurely pace, with the lantern floating alongside them.
They walked past burning corpses. Fires that were burning toxic chemicals still present in the area. Collapsed corridors that Nova snapped into bubbles if they were in the way.
At last, they made it back to the surface. Nova landed at the edge of the sinkhole without a sound, tilting their head up to watch the flowers drifting off into the distance. Away from New Yoke. Away from the smog and rot that plagued these walls.
Nova glanced down and noticed red dreadlocks next to clenched spiky mitts. With a mirthful smile, they waved their hand over the body to reveal a red echidna with a plethora of scars. Like the others, the echidna’s body slowly transformed into a bed of lotus flowers. Nova saluted the flowers before they flew into the air, weaving themselves into their companions pattern.
Nova flew into the air to watch them go. All the way towards the horizon. To parts of the world where the sun still shone.
Many citizens -and even the patrolling robots- looked up to the sky to watch the plants slowly drifting away. A little girl pulled open her blinds to better watch the display, completely mesmerized.
Nova waved the flowers off. They looked down at the city below, then turned to face the giant egg shaped building hidden behind all the smoke of the hole. They quickly huffed and rolled their shoulders.
One last thing to do.
A high pitched hum pierced through the air, freezing everyone -be they flesh or mechanical- in their tracks. They all looked up just in time to see the main base of their dictators, the Chaos Council, warping into an impossible, spiralling shape. Metal bent into itself with levels of flexibility that should not have been possible. Drones that flew too close also began to warp until they exploded and fell to the ground in a flurry of sparks.
The patrolling robots abandoned their current task and flew towards the base.
“Alert. Alert. Unknown reality distortion event in progress. Chaos Council in danger. Return to base immediately."
The base kept morphing. Turning. Spiralling into itself. Air rippled around it like water, bending, twisting, and bouncing in uncanny, unnatural ways.
The little girl hugged her mother as they watched the events unfold. Watched as all the robots around the city flew towards the anomaly, only to be caught in its grasp. Their bodies compressed, spiralled until metal, wires, and circuitry could no longer function. Some fell to the ground in heaps of morphed metal. Others simply vanished midair. Inside the building, the Chaos Council and their associates were panicking. Running around. Screaming at subordinates for information or codes to activate the escape pods. A few got caught in the anomaly that was the very building they stood in. Sinking into metal. Melding with walls. Bodies collapsed in on themselves until they could no longer function properly.
Outside, many started to wonder what was going on. The anomaly grew bigger, and bigger, spreading out farther and farther towards the city. Families started to run. Neighbors helped other neighbors steal vehicles. In the sewers, whoever remained of the Resistance scrambled for answers. They watched in horror as the base of their tormentors continued to shift. Parts of the sewers quickly became affected. Those who were left abandoned their base to help those above get to safety.
The building broke away from the ground it once stood on, becoming nothing more than a golden, blazing spiral amidst warped, rippling air. The face of the Chaos Council, the logo they had associated themselves with had been distorted to a blob of unrecognizable paint.
The spiral increased in speed. Faster. And faster. Warping. Ringing. Screeching.
Until finally, in less than a second, quicker than the naked eye could track, the whole building vanished.
The air calmed. The ringing ceased. Any robots left operating in the area suddenly shut down, their metallic shells raining lifelessly onto the ground.
Panic began to subside. Citizens stopped what they were doing to stare at the empty spot where a large, massive egg-shaped building once stood. All around them, machinery deactivated. Sidewalks stopped moving all on their own. Drones fell from the sky. Speakers were cut off. Even the electricity in the city had gone out.
Remnants of the Resistance helped people get moving again. Families grabbed their kids, their loved ones, and ran. Belongings were left behind. A little girl clutched her doll to her chest as her mom carried her through the quickly moving crowd. Out towards the wilderness beyond their city.
Murmurs spread about where they could go. No one had a clear answer, but they knew they couldn’t stay.
When Death finally arrived back at the city’s center, it was nothing more than a giant crater. The sinkhole, the corridors beneath, the mechanical and mortal remains, the egg-shaped building that loomed over it, the barrier of wire fencing, was all gone. All that remained were piles of ashes scattered amongst the dirt. In the center of the crater, they found their lantern waiting for them. Sitting on top of it was a dark purple piece of paper with a winking smiley face drawn out in gold, glittering ink. Words scribbled out in that same glittering ink sat beneath the face.
Leave the character-analysis to the experts, old-timer. See you at the next bar-mitzvah! -Nova
After studying the note for a few seconds, it burst into a flurry of snowflakes.