Chapter Text
Ever since he can remember, and it really hasn’t been for that long, N has been abused. In some way, in some shape, in some form. It happens day and night, by both his teammates. Mostly by J, but V hasn’t been ‘helping’ exactly either.
And N can tell you, it really isn’t fun.
He’s not sure just how he had put up with it for so long. Truly, his patience was more than gold, more than diamond, more than platinum. It was pure iridium.
But not every dog will stay rolling over forever. N had to learn this the hard way.
And boy, when the tortured dog finally bites back, it bites back hard.
N’s bite was not towards J or V. It probably should have, but he’s been whittled down so much for so long. At this point, he’s pretty sure he’s lost his capability to feel any emotion. He can’t seem to feel a whole lot anymore.
He’s not even sure when it started exactly.
All he knows is that J is still hurting him, and V still never remembers him.
And is his name truly that hard to remember? It’s a single letter, for God’s sake! Literally just the letter N! Does she have fucking memory problems?!?!
N took a deep vent in, held it, then released it. Mist came from his mouth, the heated air rising lazily into the dark sky. He was lying on a broken car, seat forced back to lie flat.
He looked over to his right, spotting the big bag of magnets he put together, sitting in the passenger seat. He’s heard Worker Drones have been using these to get high. N sometimes wonders if it works on the Disassembly Drones.
N recalls a worker using a red horseshoe magnet and sticking the ends into his mouth. He had gotten high just a little bit after that. It seems it only gets them high if they take the magnetism in through the mouth. He supposes that’s the safer way to do it.
‘I think I remember…’ N started in his thoughts.
‘That humans would die when taking too many of their drugs…’ He was still staring at the bag of small black objects.
‘I wonder if the same can happen to me…’
N blinked. Slowly, he reached his hand over. He grabbed the bag, sitting up. He brought it to his lap, the magnets already sticking to his metal legs. N stared blankly down at it.
Slowly, N opened it. He raised it to his mouth.
He swallowed he doesn’t know how many down.
‘It’s kind of bitter…’ N thought once he set the bag back down in the seat next to him.
He then laid back down, staring at the stars once again, as he’d torn off the car’s roof. He wondered just how long it’ll take before the magnets kill him. Maybe it’ll take a while. Maybe it won’t be long at all. He doesn’t know.
All that N knows is that he’s so tired of being here.
Unfortunately, the magnets didn’t kill him. But by God was the stomachache shit. But hey, at least he’s used to sore tanks thanks to J. She would often gut punch him when especially angry with him.
He even recalls vomiting one time because she had hit him so hard. He thinks his tanks may have been dented, too.
But his focus isn’t really on that. What it is on is trying to permanently off himself. Guns and swords won’t work, J and V certainly won’t do it, and workers are too cowardly to come out of their hidey-holes.
And N… Doesn’t want to pierce his core with his own blade for some reason…
He’s not even sure why. It would certainly get him his wish, but he just can’t. And he’s tried too. But he would always freeze up. His plating would tremble uncontrollably. He would start to cry.
He would end up never going through with it.
“I’m such a fucking coward…” N mumbled to himself.
Currently, he was simply walking through the city his team was assigned to. J thinks he’s been working, but that’s just a lie. All N’s been doing is walking alone, passing by the ruined buildings.
Sometimes he does kill a worker, if only to feed himself. But besides that, he just wastes the night away thinking. Or doing nothing, either one.
N’s long lost his motivation to do anything, really. The only thing he has motivation for is killing himself. And he can’t even do that.
N stopped in his tracks. His mouth opened just a centimeter. He raised a hand to his visor. He swiped at it, feeling a virtual tear disappear.
“Oh… I’m crying again…” N muttered.
Ah yes, crying. Another thing he often does. Out of the blue, too. This time is no different.
The pale blue tears streaked silently down N’s visor. He didn’t bother trying to stop them. He didn’t sob, either. He thinks he lost the ability to vocally cry. He doesn’t anymore, and he knows he used to.
“There’s a lot I can’t do anymore…” N said to himself.
N continued to walk, crying without a sound as he went down the snowed over street.
*POOMF!*
*SPLAT!*
N’s arm fell onto the snowy ground. He stared at it, no emotion shone in his half-lidded eye lights. His remaining hand was exchanged for a blade, bloodied with his own oil. The substance dripped from his arm’s new stump.
He looked down to his tail. In a swift movement, that was cut off. It actually made him flinch and grit his teeth. Tails were a bit sensitive, weren’t they? He almost forgot…
More black oil was drunken up by the white snow. It created a large, shiny splotch of black.
N turned to his legs. In another quick swipe, one leg was dismembered. More of his robotic blood drained onto the frost. And even more would spill as his other leg was slashed off.
N’s vision was turning fuzzy. His body felt a bit hot. He felt lightheaded. He felt tired.
He’s trying to see whether he can die from bleeding out. But it looks like death won’t come to him this way either, as his limbs are already reattaching. N doesn’t think he has the energy to cut them off again.
He laid back down, feeling the cool snow on the back of his body. Some warnings are popping up on his visor, but he just closes them. He’s seen them before, numerous times, and they’re all the same. He practically knows them by core now.
‘There’s no reason to read them anymore…’ N thought, a fading, numbing blackness crawling over his grainy vision.
It took a little bit, but N finally made it to the forest. He landed down near the frozen over lake, standing just at the edge. He gazed at it for a moment, not even thinking about anything.
Or maybe he was. He didn’t quite know.
N’s hand reeled into his arm, a missile launcher replacing it. He aimed it at the frozen water. He fired, creating a hole and a blast. Once the smoke cleared, N could see the water that wasn’t frozen underneath the thick layer of ice.
N got down onto his hands and knees. Without another thought, if he was even thinking any, he plunged his head into the freezing liquid.
He waited a moment. But nothing happened. He tried to breathe in the water through his vents, but that was a bad idea.
N jerked his head out of the water. He coughed harshly, water spilling from his mouth as his body forcefully expelled it. He banged against his chest a few times, getting more of the water out.
It seems he can’t short-circuit himself, either. Shame.
‘Looks like I'll have to find another way...’ N thought once his coughing had died down.
He then just sat there. He stared into the nothingness that was the snow.
“What’ll it take to get me out of here...?” He asked himself.
“The next time I catch you slacking, I’ll decapitate you myself! Understand that, N?!” J yelled.
She had N toppled on the ground, her peg leg foot grinding painfully into his throat. N didn’t fight back, but thanked her for her ‘criticisms’.
“Yes! Thank- You-!” He said, choked and strained.
J only huffed, turning. She finally took her foot off him, deploying her wings. She promptly flew away, not saying another word to the ‘worthless, idiotic, Synergistic Liability’.
N sat up, rubbing his neck. His face had fallen as soon as J left, now blank once more. He sighed, closing his eye lights.
“If you hate me that much, why don’t you just kill me already?” N asked.
“You always say you want to do it anyway, like it’s some sort of wish...” He added.
N shook his head. He slowly picked himself up. Once standing, he looked at the ground. Some small splatterings of oil lied staining the pure white snow.
His gaze trailed to his body. J had stabbed him with her tail, right in his waistband. The acidic hole was still there, slowly corroding away his metal and rubber. He couldn’t feel the hurtful burn of the yellow acid.
N could just barely see inside of the new hole.
His hand exchanged for his sword.
*Snap!*
N held his broken off sword in one hand. The blade had cut shallow slices into his fingers, but he couldn’t feel it. It wasn’t even his focus right now.
In this dark room, in some random abandoned building N found, only minimal moonlight shining in through a window, N stared down at his body. He still had yet to heal the corroded hole. The acid had worn off by now.
N raised the sword, sharp point pointed right under his core. He still was too much of a damn coward to pierce it. But he was brave enough to-
*Shink!*
*Drip, drip*
*Grroooaaannn*
*SPLATTER!!*
-Start vivisecting himself right where he stood.
It hurt, and like hell for once, but N bore through it. His eye lights squinted in pain, but he made no noise. He just kept slowly slicing himself open.
Once the blade met the bottom of his waistband, N took it out. It glided from his torso, dripping with his own robotic blood. More of the thick, black liquid spilled down his body, drenching the floor under him still.
N took a hand and held one side of the gash. He forced it open further, revealing the internal machinery under his plating.
N then laughed. Short and quick and half-hearted.
“Who would’ve thought...” He mumbled, feeling so drained but still somehow standing.
It seems N has some sort of organic-ness to him. He had metal and oil and circuits and bone and flesh, all hidden just beneath his miserable surface.
The sword slipped from N’s grasp. It clattered onto the floor. He was losing strength steadily.
His body wobbled. His feet didn’t feel all that steady anymore.
N fell forwards, his coat soaking up more of his oil.
Another night of putting on a façade, another night of being hurt in some way.
N tried hard to keep his cheery, optimistic, happy-go-lucky smile on his face. It’s been harder and harder to do that, lately.
Especially when V can never seem to just remember him for once-!
N sighs, being as quiet as he could. V is just a few feet away, tearing up and bending another killed Worker Drone into some animal or another.
She doesn’t even know he’s here. She doesn’t even know he once had a crush on her. She doesn’t even know how badly it hurts to be forgotten again and again, to be struck with questions like ‘Who are you?!’ and ‘Where the hell did you come from?!’.
And over time, N had lost all feelings for her because of that.
He’s got no chance with her. Not when she can’t ever seem to recollect that she has a third teammate, or that he’s literally been in this squad since the start, or that he is literally right behind her, sitting on top of the pod and staring blankly and somberly down at her.
It’s obvious she’s never cared for him. It’s obvious J never cared for him.
And now, N doesn’t care for himself.
It's why he’s trying to kill himself all the time.
That, and to finally just be free from this cursed place.
This cursed existence.
How many times has N tried to kill himself? He honestly couldn’t tell you. He’s attempted his hand at suicide so many times, there might not possibly be a way to count it anymore.
N never tried to count in the first place. What good would it do? Just to boast that he could survive so many deaths, come back to life after so many failures, to live another God-forsaken 24 hours only to suffer some more?
‘Yeah, ‘cause that’s so great.’ N thought to himself.
At this point, there might not be any other ways N could try and off himself. He’s tried drowning, he’s tried short-circuiting, he’s tried bleeding out, he’s tried mutilation, he’s tried vivisection, he’s tried blowing himself up, he’s tried decapitating himself.
He’s.
Tried.
Everything.
N wonders if he should even be trying anymore. He’s just been stargazing now, lying on the snow, maybe hoping the planet would swallow him whole or something, he doesn’t even know anymore.
But right now, he’s just lying on the floor in the spire. Staring up, N only sees the walls made of Worker Drone corpses. He wishes he was one of them. He wishes he was strung up among them, an arm or a leg hanging limp and stiff, sticking out of the wall.
And on his visor would be the words [FATAL ERROR].
N wishes he was a Worker Drone. Created and raised here on Copper-9, when the Disassembly Drones arrived. N wishes he could’ve died at their lethal hands.
He wouldn’t have to suffer anymore if that were the case.
But it’s not.
So he is cursed to suffer even more.
A Worker Drone has waltzed right into the spire. N isn’t surprised, though he knows he probably should be.
But what does surprise him is the obvious weapon she’s holding. It’s black and the barrel is long and glows green. N can make out a few stickers on it, plus a charm hanging off the body.
At first, N had ignored her. He turned back around, continuing to stare up through the holes of the Corpse Spire from his spot on the pod. But the thought of that odd weapon wouldn’t leave him alone.
And then N comes to a realization. His mouth opens agape, just a bit, his face showing genuine emotion for once. He turns back around, still barely hidden.
N eyes the black and green gun the worker girl carries. It’s a device that is made to kill, it’s so obvious.
And if it can kill…
Maybe it can kill him for good.
N had started a fight with the worker. Despite her small stature, and the fact that she’s a Worker Drone, she is holding her ground surprisingly well. Maybe N would’ve been more impressed were he to have some actual empathy and emotion left in him.
N threw the worker away with his tail, intentionally getting her to roll over right next to her gun. He’d turned himself around as he landed, giving her ample time to dive for her weapon of choice.
When N turned back around, his own gun at the ready, he saw how the Worker Drone had her armament back in her hands.
She aimed it at him, finger pressing lightly on the trigger.
“Bite me.” She said as she finally pulled the trigger fully.
As the bright, glowing green blast shot towards N, his eye lights had returned.
He stared at the beam, time seeming to have slowed down.
He closed his eyes.
A tear fell from them.
N smiled as he met his long wished for demise.
N woke up.
He didn’t die.
“Why…” He whispered.
“WHY?!” The Murder Drone exploded.
Uzi flinched hard at the sudden outburst. She watched as he picked up some stray rebar and threw it with all his strength toward the pod. It easily embedded itself into the side.
He then turned to kick away a worker’s dead body, it clanging loudly into the Corpse Spire’s wall. It visibly shifted, but didn’t come crashing down.
Growing truly afraid, Uzi grabbed her railgun and ducked behind some cover. She flinched every time she heard the Murder Drone yell out, when something metal banged harshly against another metal something, when missiles were shot and blown up.
For whole minutes, the Murder Drone kept destroying everything around him in rage. What he was angry about, Uzi didn’t know. Maybe about being killed? She couldn’t quite hear what he was saying due to the loud clamor he was causing.
But suddenly, it stopped. All of it.
*Thump!*
After a moment, Uzi looked up. She hesitantly and cautiously peeked out from behind her cover. She still held her railgun tight, even though it’s of no use quite yet. Her eye lights had gone hollow when he’d first started going on a rampage.
But now, the Murder Drone simply lied on his back in the snow. He stared blankly up at the ceiling. His eye lights were half-lidded. He looked so drained and exhausted and tired and just pure dead.
“Hey God…” He whispered. Uzi had barely caught it from how quiet it was.
“Why won’t you let me die?” He asked, tears falling down his visor as he closed his eyes.