Chapter Text
007n7 takes a long chug of his drink, the bottle tipping high as the bitter liquid burns its way down his throat. He sits hunched on the old sofa, his shoulder slumped in quiet resignation. His chest rises and falls quickly, with every breath reeking of alcohol and regret.
How did things get to this point?
His bloodshot eyes drift across the cluttered coffee table until they land on a photograph. It’s a small frame, glass smudged with fingerprints. He leans forward, almost afraid to touch it, and instead, simply studies. It’s a picture of himself and his son—c00lkidd, smiling and laughing wide, back when he was still happy. When he had once believed things would be okay.
How foolish.
The memory gnaws away at him. He drags the bottle back to his lips, and takes another gulp, another swallow. His throat flares from the burn, but he welcomes it gladly. He wants it to hurt. He deserves it, after all.
But he can’t take this anymore.
At that instant, the terrible memories come crashing down. The things he did in the past—it was unforgivable, unerasable. He knew he had hurt people with his actions, back when he was still a hacker—they were scars that no time could ever wipe away. Even when he tried to change, to walk away from it all, it never truly left him. It always came back to haunt him, even at the back of his mind.
He thought his life was over back then. That the only thing left was to stay bad, to keep hacking until he rotted from the eventual demise. But then—he remembers the night like it was yesterday—a baby was left on his doorstep. Helpless, and all alone. The universe’s cruel joke, or maybe its last mercy.
No, this… this was his salvation.
From then on, he had taken the child in, cradling him like he was his own. Gave him a name—c00lkidd—named after his creation. This was his pride and joy. His only reason for living.
He needed money to put food on the table—and he couldn't resort back to his old ways of hacking. And so, he worked. He worked until his body ached and his eyes stung. He did any job, every job, no matter how dirty or small. No matter how tiring it got. Anything to put food on the table, anything to make sure that kid had more than he ever did.
Maybe that’s when the cracks started—when he had begun to falter. The beginning of the end. All from those long hours of working, the endless grind. His only friend, Noli—had begun slipping away, because 007n7 never told him the truth. He couldn’t—he couldn’t admit to them that he hated this life. That he was tired of this. That he wanted to stop. So, he pushed him away. Eventually, Noli got fed up, and left. He just… vanished. Disappeared from his life entirely. And he let them.
His chest tightens at the thought. How could you do that to your only friend?
He tried with c00lkidd. God, he tried. But the world was cruel. The kids at school were relentless. They were always bullying him for being different, for looking different. And then the day came when 007n7 walked home and found the blacklist notice from the Builder Brothers’ Pizzeria taped to his door. His son had used the c00lgui. He had become a hacker—just like him.
His heart had split open that day.
After that, he hovered closer. He watched every step, and kept a close eye on him. Always tried to pick him up after school, and spend time with him whenever he could. He forced himself to become a better role model, even when the darkness of his past threatened to spill.
He did everything he could. And still, it wasn’t enough.
Because one day, c00lkidd simply didn’t come home.
He remembers the panic he felt that day—he had been searchingly everywhere, knocking on every door, putting up posters until his hands bled from the staples and tape. He asked anyone, everyone. There was nothing. He drained every bit of his savings. Sold almost every piece of furniture. Everything was gone, except for c00lkidd’s things. Those were the only things he couldn’t bear to part with.
Days bled into months. He stopped working. He didn't have enough to eat at times, so he went hungry. But he never stopped searching. He never gave up—his son could still be out there, somewhere. He simply couldn't.
And then came the call. c00lkidd was gone.
By… the river. That’s where they found him. Dead.
He still remembers that night. The storm that was brewing prior. The way the rain dripped from the edge of his umbrella. His hands were trembling as he knelt by the sheet. That thin, white veil between hope and reality—it was what kept him going, the only thing that allowed him to pretend it was just a terrible nightmare. And when he lifted it—he saw those pale, lifeless eyes. Their still, unmoving body. Their cold hands, and a heart that would never, ever beat again. His boy. His everything. Gone.
He dropped the umbrella, and the rain had begun to soak him through. But he didn't care. His stomach lurched, and bile clawed up his throat. He would have given anything—anything—to wake up from that moment. For it all ot be a bad dream. But there was no end to it.
He takes another desperate gulp from the bottle.
Tonight would be the night. He knows it by now. His gaze slides to the table. The gun lies there, gleaming dully underneath the light. He had kept it for safety—to protect c00lkidd—from his awful pasts, and the threats that might have emerged from it.
Safety… What a cruel joke.
He sets the bottle down with a hollow clink. His shaking hands reach for the weapon. He turns it over in his palms, the weight of his decision sinking into his bones.
How could he ever hope to go on living? His son—the light of his life—was dead. And at that moment, he thinks of Noli, too. His only friend, the one he drove away. Would they still be here if he had just told the truth? If he hadn’t been such a coward? Would things have been… different?
A bitter laugh escapes him, ragged and broken.
“This is all my fault, isn’t it?” He murmurs, his voice cracking at every word. “I’m sorry for being such a terrible friend.”
His chest heaves, and his throat burns. Tears threaten to spill from his eyes. “Why is it… after all this time… my mind still thinks of you?”
No answer comes. Only silence follows.
He pulls out his phone, his thumb fumbling across the cracked screen. He scrolls through it, until he finds the contact he’s looking for—Noli. He stares at the dozens of messages sent into the void. Pleas for help, unanswered. Ghosts of his desperation, for a connection they once had. Still, there was nothing.
There were so many things he wanted to say. I miss you. I’m scared, Noli. I need you… I don't trust myself being alone right now. I love you—I always have.
Please, come back. I’m sorry.
But he doesn’t type any of it—he doesn't dare to. Instead, his fingers tap out a lie. Just a simple goodbye.
Always a coward until the end, aren't you?
With that, he drops the phone onto the table. His hand grips the gun. He lifts it, slow, deliberate, until the cold barrel rests against his temple. The metal feels chilly against his skin. His finger tightens around the trigger.
I should have known… There was never any hope for someone like me. I don’t deserve mercy, or redemption. I deserve this pain, this suffering. There's nothing worth living for anymore.
His eyes drift back to the photograph. The two smiles frozen forever in time. How he wished he could return back to those days. His throat tightens, and a shuddering breath escapes his lips.
“I’ll see you soon, my son.”
He squeezes the trigger.
Bang!
The sound echoes in the room. His body jerks back against the sofa, his head snap to the side. A spray of red paints the wall. The gun slipped from his grip, clattering onto the ground. Finally, the room fell silent again.
Just like that, it was over. No redemption, no mercy… no rest for the wicked.
Only a body, slumped and still.
Only a man, meeting his inevitable end.
As terrible as it is, he should have known…
There was never any hope left for a sinner like him.