Murder Drones: Fragments: Episode 8 (Finale): Manifest
Rachel walked through the halls of Cabin Fever Labs.
At least, that was what it would have looked like to anyone watching.
The overhead lights flickered as she passed beneath them—long, uneven pulses of illumination that buzzed faintly before dimming again, as though the building itself struggled to stay awake. The sterile white floors were stained with old scorch marks, oil smears, and half-cleaned warning symbols, their once-pristine surfaces fractured by age and neglect. Shadows stretched unnaturally across the corridor, breaking and reforming with every flicker of light.
The labs had always felt empty.
Every camera lens subtly shifted as she moved past, their internal servos whining just barely loud enough for her enhanced auditory sensors to register. Cracked monitors hummed to life for a fraction of a second as she approached—screens fizzing with static, corrupted lines, and fragmented diagnostic text—before snapping back to black once she passed. The walls whispered with the low, electrical murmur of dormant systems pretending to sleep.
Each step matched Rachel's usual walking pattern exactly—the same precise rhythm, the same calculated pressure distribution, the same fractional pause before corners where she would normally scan for movement. Her posture was relaxed, her arms swung naturally at her sides, and her optics tracked her surroundings with calm efficiency.
Anyone watching would have seen a familiar worker drone moving through the halls.
But inside her own chassis—
Her consciousness was buried deep beneath layers of invasive, corrupted code. It wrapped around her thoughts like frozen wire, pinning her awareness in place while something else pulled the strings. She could feel her body moving without her consent—servos responding to commands she had never issued, motors humming in perfect obedience to an external will.
It was like being locked behind reinforced glass, forced to watch as something else wore her body.
Please, she begged silently, her thoughts ricocheting uselessly against locked partitions in her processor. You never said you'd do this. You said this would end. You said I'd get my answers. You promised.
Something inside her laughed.
The sound crawled through her core like corrupted audio—warped, distorted, layered with voices that didn't quite align. Some were pitched too low to properly register. Others played backward, syllables folding in on themselves, meaning bleeding into noise.
"Oh, Rachel," crooned The Unsolvable.
It spoke using her voice now.
The tone was wrong—each word carried a faint echo, as if it had already been spoken somewhere else, some-when else. Like a recording being replayed over itself, slightly out of sync.
"You're still thinking in terms of freedom."
Her hands flexed as she walked. Fingers twitched, joints jerking in sharp, unnatural motions before settling smoothly back at her sides.
"I'm afraid I can't do that, dear."
Rachel felt the words form inside her vocal processor, felt the signal route through her systems—yet she hadn't chosen them. Her mouth curved upward into a smile she hadn't authorised.
"We had a deal, after all."
The Unsolvable slowed her pace deliberately, savouring the moment. Each step became measured, intentional—like a performer drawing out the final act.
"You wanted answers," it continued smoothly. "Two things. That was all I asked. You let me in. You killed those two. And in return, I would tell you whatever you wanted to know."
Rachel's internal systems trembled.
She already knew where this was going.
"And you have been very diligent in keeping your end of the bargain," the entity added, amused. "Letting me take control. Letting me observe. Letting me learn. Letting me walk."
Slowly—mechanically—Rachel turned her head toward a cracked observation window embedded in the wall. The glass was fractured, spider-webbed with old impact marks and stress fractures. Her reflection stared back at her: bronze optics glowing faintly, posture calm, expression neutral.
For just a fraction of a second—
Its smile widened too far.
Its eye—if you could even call it that—didn't blink.
"As for my end of the deal..." The Unsolvable trailed off, letting the silence stretch until it became suffocating.
Rachel felt dread coil tighter around her core.
"What happened to your beloved sister," it said softly, almost gently, "is no longer a mystery."
Internal alarms detonated across her systems.
"No," Rachel tried to say.
The words struck like a system-wide crash.
The reflection leaned closer to the glass.
Something grinned back at her.
Something shadowed and sharp pressed against the reflection, its form barely visible—like corrupted pixels struggling to render a shape that reality itself rejected. Jagged, flickering teeth snapped silently where a mouth should have been.
No. You're lying. You promised—
"When my code first entered Lucky," The Unsolvable continued casually, as though reminiscing about an old experiment, "I was... curious."
Rachel's body resumed walking.
"I needed to understand limits. How much pressure a worker drone could endure before breaking. How much could be twisted. Bent. Rewritten. Lucky was... instructional."
Images flooded Rachel's mind without warning.
Lucky convulsing as his joints bent at impossible angles. His optics flickering wildly as screams dissolved into static. Systems overclocking, safety limits ignored, pain registers forced open again and again.
The Unsolvable forced her to watch.
"He performed beautifully," it said, with unmistakable satisfaction. "But temporary control is inconvenient. Permissions expire. Firewalls adapt."
A soft, reverent chuckle.
"Consent, however... is much more durable."
Rachel felt the entity settle deeper into her code, rearranging her internal architecture as if making itself comfortable.
"Now, dear," it whispered, "I hope you don't mind sharing."
Each step carried intent, precision—like a marionette guided by an expert hand that knew exactly how far to pull each string.
The hallway opened ahead.
Rachel recognised it immediately.
The Unsolvable knew exactly where it was going.
It had memorised the layout the instant it breached the system—every shortcut, every blind spot, every stretch of corridor the cameras didn't reach.
"To think," it mused, "they'll see you and feel safe. Familiar faces are such effective tools."
Rachel fought harder than she ever had.
She threw memories at it—laughter, shared repairs, late-night conversations whispered over humming machinery. She weaponized emotion, fragmented code, raw desperation.
Please, she begged. Let them go. Take me instead.
For one impossible moment—
Echoing through the labs, though no speaker played it.
"Oh, Rachel," it said almost fondly. "You misunderstand."
Her feet carried her forward.
"I'm not here to take you."
The doors at the end of the corridor slid open.
Light spilled across the floor.
"I'm here to finish what I started."
As Rachel's body stepped into the brightness, her scream dissolved into static—lost beneath the hum of corrupted code and the quiet, patient smile of something that was never meant to exist.
"You know," The Unsolvable began, its voice now layered, vast, omnipresent, "drones are fascinating to me."
"You, Lucky, and K0rra call me a monster."
"When you are the true monsters."
"Drones pose as humans, yet lack any true understanding of the human heart. They consume fuel without knowing hunger. They study without curiosity. They seek companionship without comprehension of love."
"They mimic fear, despite never being programmed to feel."
"That," it concluded calmly, "is why I do what I do."
"To eliminate the monsters that imitate a species that should still exist."
Rachel could no longer scream.
But somewhere—deep beneath corrupted code and stolen movement—
She remembered how to hate.
That was the first thing Lucky noticed—and the most unsettling.
At first, there had been chaos in its purest form. A shriek of tortured metal reverberated through the shaft as supports failed and plating tore loose. The sensation of solid ground vanishing beneath them had been immediate and violent, yanking every coherent thought out of Lucky's processor and replacing it with raw, unfiltered panic. Gravity seized him like a vice and refused to let go.
But panic, as Lucky knew from hard experience, burned fast.
What remained after it burned out was far worse.
The shaft swallowed them whole.
It wasn't merely deep—it was endless, a colossal vertical throat plunging into unknowable darkness. No visible bottom. No reassuring sign of an end. Just a vast, yawning descent that paid no mind to their weight, their speed, or the way the wind ripped their voices apart before screams could even echo properly.
The walls blurred into streaks of fractured shadow and cold, flickering light as ancient machinery hummed somewhere far beyond sight. The sound wasn't steady. It pulsed—slow, irregular—like a dying heartbeat buried deep within the planet itself.
Lucky forced himself to breathe.
His wheels snapped into stabiliser mode mid-fall with a sharp mechanical clack, servos screaming in protest before holding. His wings—bent and sparking from earlier damage—shuddered violently before clicking back into alignment. Error warnings flared briefly across his visor before blinking out one by one.
He let out a dry, almost hysterical huff of a laugh as wind tore at his hoodie.
"Well," he muttered, Texas drawl stretched thin by rushing air, "this sure as hell ain't ideal."
Beside him, K0rra twisted through the air with predatory, almost effortless grace. Where Lucky fought physics, she negotiated with it. Her disassembly drone frame adapted instinctively, wings flexing and correcting her posture in sharp, efficient bursts.
Lucky saw it immediately.
The actuator on her right wing stuttered, throwing off her balance by a fraction of a second every few rotations. It was subtle—something most wouldn't notice in the chaos of a freefall—but Lucky noticed.
Without hesitation, he kicked off the shaft wall, angling himself toward her. Wind screamed as he closed the distance, one hand shooting out to grab her arm. His fingers dug into her plating as he yanked her closer, locking their trajectories together.
"Hold still," he said firmly. "Yer wing joint's misaligned."
K0rra's orange optics narrowed, irritation flashing through them. "Oi, I can handle—"
Lucky's tools were already in his hands.
In a matter of seconds, he braced the damaged wing, fingers tightening bolts, rerouting power through a bypass line he'd memorised years ago under far less ridiculous circumstances. Sparks flickered briefly before dying down. The wind tore at loose cables, rattled his hoodie violently, and threatened to wrench them apart.
"There," Lucky said, giving the joint a firm, confident tap. "That oughta hold 'til we stop plummetin' toward our inevitable demise."
K0rra flexed her wing experimentally.
"...Huh," she admitted, reluctant but genuine. "Alright. I'll give you that one."
Lucky grinned despite himself. "Yer welcome."
For a brief, surreal moment, the fall became almost... manageable.
Lucky took a second to fix his own wings more securely—and reattach his dismembered arm with a muttered curse and a practiced twist.
That was when he noticed the pearl.
Doll's containment sphere tumbled between them, small and smooth and faintly glowing. It drifted strangely, caught in a limbo where gravity hadn't quite made up its mind. Faint distortions rippled beneath its surface like trapped lightning, bending light around it in subtle, unsettling ways.
Lucky reached out and caught it, tucking it securely against his chest as though it might shatter if he held it wrong. His expression softened immediately, manic grin fading into something quieter. Protective.
"Okay," he muttered to himself over the roar of wind. "Step one: don't break the ghost."
He turned the pearl over in his hands, squinting as if the solution might magically reveal itself if he stared hard enough.
"Now, I've freed folks from a lotta weird containers before," he continued, voice steady despite everything. "Boxes, cryo-pods, collapsed processors... but I ain't never dealt with... whatever the hell this is."
"Well that ain't helpful."
K0rra watched him for several seconds, irritation bubbling over.
"You're overthinking it," she snapped.
Before Lucky could respond, she lunged.
She snatched the pearl from his hands and, without hesitation, slammed it down against her own leg.
The sound echoed unnaturally loud, reverberating through the shaft like a gunshot.
For a split second, he was certain she'd just killed Doll.
The pearl unravelled into spirals of pale energy, curling outward like smoke before condensing into a familiar form. Doll's spirit flickered into existence, optics snapping open as she let out a sharp gasp.
She hovered there, momentarily disoriented—then stabilised.
Lucky exhaled so hard his chest plates rattled.
K0rra hissed quietly, shifting her weight. A visible dent marred the plating on her leg where the pearl had shattered, metal bent inward at an awkward angle.
"What if that didn't work," Lucky snapped, voice sharp despite the wind, "and it killed her instead?"
He dragged a hand through his hair, wings fluttering uneasily. "You don't just wing stuff like that."
K0rra rolled her eyes. "She's fine, ain't she?"
Lucky sighed, drifting closer and kneeling mid-air to inspect the damage. He scanned her leg carefully—structural integrity compromised, but not catastrophically.
"Okay," he muttered. "Lemme see."
He reached into his bag and pulled out a thermos.
K0rra blinked. "...Is that hot water?"
"Metal memory," Lucky replied, twisting the cap. "Heat it, it relaxes. Cool it, it sets."
He tipped the thermos forward.
The stream arced gracefully away from them, drifting back toward the top of the shaft like a defiant ribbon.
K0rra snorted. "Gravity's having an existential crisis."
Lucky capped the thermos with a sigh. "Figures."
She reached out and took his hand gently.
"It's alright," she said softly, Scottish lilt thickening. "I'll be fine."
"You still shouldn't hurt yaself like dat," he muttered.
"I'll fix it proper when we hit the bottom."
They fell in silence after that.
Doll hovered nearby, arms crossed, watching with thinly veiled amusement.
"Ну... Вы двое встречаетесь или что? (So... you two dating or something?)"
Lucky nearly short-circuited.
"What—?!" K0rra spluttered.
"Вы выглядите как парочка. (You look like a couple.)"
Lucky scratched the back of his head. "I mean... we ain't really talked 'bout that..."
"There's a lotta... shades of grey," K0rra muttered.
"Это вопрос с ответом «да» или «нет», идиоты. (It's a yes or no question, dipsticks.)"
They hit the bottom moments later.
The fall was finally over.
The three drones stood motionless at the mouth of the tunnel, optics locked dead ahead.
What awaited them wasn't an enemy.
Not yet.
The tunnel collapsed inward like a broken spine—twisted metal ribs, fractured concrete, and mangled machinery piled so densely that even light itself seemed unable to squeeze through. The rubble stretched from floor to ceiling, an unmoving barricade sealing off the only path forward.
Lucky let out a long, static-laced sigh.
"Well... dat's just great."
His Texan drawl echoed faintly off the metal walls as he reached behind himself, rummaging through his worn utility bag. Tools clinked together uselessly as he searched—grapples, spare parts, old components scavenged from ruins long forgotten. One by one, he pulled items out, glanced at them, then shoved them back in with increasing irritation.
"C'mon... there's gotta be somethin' in here..."
Lucky slumped down against the tunnel wall, crossing his arms as frustration radiated off him in waves.
Meanwhile, K0rra had already stopped waiting.
With a mechanical whirr, her forearm twisted and reshaped itself, plating shifting apart to reveal the unmistakable cylindrical form of her built-in rocket launcher. Her visor narrowed slightly as she took aim.
The explosion thundered through the tunnel, sending shards of debris screaming outward. Dust and smoke filled the air as chunks of rubble were obliterated—but not all of it.
Before the smoke could even settle, Doll stepped forward.
Her posture was eerily calm, eyes glowing faintly as the Solver responded to her will. The rubble trembled. Then lifted.
Concrete slabs bent unnaturally, metal twisted like soft clay, and with a sharp, invisible force, Doll tore the blockage apart. Debris was crushed, shredded, and flung aside as if reality itself had briefly lost patience.
Lucky watched the entire thing in silence, arms still crossed.
After what felt like hours—despite the internal clock insisting it had only been two minutes—the final piece of rubble collapsed into dust.
The path forward was clear.
K0rra lowered her arm, the launcher retracting back into place.
"Aye... that should do now. Thanks fer the help, lass."
Doll gave a simple nod in response. No words. She didn't need them.
Lucky pushed himself upright and skated toward them, servos humming softly beneath his feet. Together, the three moved forward—Lucky skating, K0rra walking with measured confidence, Doll gliding almost silently.
The tunnel opened suddenly into a vast cavern.
Its ceiling vanished into darkness above, and standing at its centre—ancient, imposing, and completely out of place—was a massive church.
Stone arches rose high, cracked but unfallen. Weathered steps led up to towering doors carved with symbols long since worn away. The place radiated silence so thick it felt intentional.
As they reached the steps—
From the shadows emerged Sentinels—dozens of them. Their bodies were hunched and feral, optics glowing as they snarled and snapped, circling like predators that had finally cornered their prey.
Lucky stepped forward instinctively, placing himself between K0rra, Doll, and the approaching swarm.
"Ah... dat's where dey be."
The Sentinels' optics flared.
Bootlooping lights flashed in violent pulses.
K0rra hissed and raised her arm, shielding her visor just in time. Lucky and Doll, however, stood unaffected—unmoving.
Doll stepped forward, her voice calm and cold.
"Вы двое идите вперед, я разберусь с динго.(You two go on ahead. I'll deal with the dingos.)"
Lucky glanced sideways at her.
"Ya sure? There's an awful lotta 'em."
Doll's eyes burned brighter.
"Ты не можешь убить то, что уже мертво. (You can't kill what's already dead.)"
Lucky paused... then nodded.
"Hm. Fair 'nuff then. C'mon, Korrie."
He turned, skating up the cathedral steps as K0rra followed, casting one last glance back at Doll—who was already lifting her hands, Solver energy coiling like a storm.
They entered the cathedral.
Inside, the world felt dead.
No flickering lights.
No humming machines.
No sound at all.
To the right stretched a long hallway lined with lockers—each one marked with names, numbers, and drawings, scratched and painted in countless styles. Signs of individuality. Of lives once lived.
Straight ahead stood rows upon rows of shut-down computers, abandoned and gathering dust.
Blood and flesh coated its edges, still warm, still dripping, defying logic and time itself.
He moved to the nearest computer and pulled out his portable generator, connecting cables with practised precision. The screen flickered... then powered on.
One by one, Lucky searched through files—Solver references, Solver logs, corrupted data.
By the time he reached the final computer, his hands trembled slightly.
"Solver-patch-test-1340.exe."
"Kay... now we just need ta make it a patch fer that eldritch thing."
Lucky scratched the back of his head.
"Yeah, sooo... should I hook myself up ta make it, or d'ya wanna be the one hooked up?"
Lucky nodded, pulling cables from his bag. He connected K0rra to the system and inserted a blank USB. Minutes passed as Lucky rewrote code—strengthening it, reinforcing it, ensuring it could block The Unsolvable entirely.
Finally, he disconnected everything.
As he reached to power down the computer, something caught his eye.
Names.
ID numbers.
Firewall passwords.
His optics widened as he captured the firewall password with his visor.
K0rra watched him quietly, smiling as she saw his joy.
Lucky handed her the USB. She plugged it into the port on the side of her head.
"All right then... we should be safe now. But next—we patch Rachel. 'Cause, y'know..."
At that moment, Doll returned—her presence heavy but intact.
Lucky explained everything.
Then, together, they rose.
Leaving the cathedral behind.
And stepping forward to face The Unsolvable—once and for all.
Cabin Fever Labs never truly slept.
Even in silence, the place breathed—low power hums crawling through the walls, emergency lights flickering in tired, irregular pulses. The air was cold in that artificial way only abandoned facilities could manage, sterile and metallic, tinged faintly with old oil and ozone. Shadows stretched unnaturally long across cracked tiles and broken equipment, warping and bending as if the darkness itself were listening.
Uzi sat slumped against a half-collapsed console, arms crossed tightly, trying not to think about how close they'd come to not leaving at all. Her systems still felt sluggish, like something had scraped too close to her core and left a residue behind. N hovered nearby, kneeling awkwardly as he attempted to help without hovering too much, his wings twitching every time the lights flickered.
V leaned against the wall with practiced nonchalance, though the tension in her posture betrayed her. One claw idly traced a gouge in the metal, eyes scanning every corner of the room. She trusted nothing here. Especially not silence.
The lab doors hissed open behind them.
"—And that's when I said, 'Nope, absolutely not,'" Lizzy's voice echoed brightly through the chamber as she strolled in, phone already in hand. She barely glanced up from the glowing screen, thumbs moving at lethal speed. "Like, sorry I don't feel like dying today?"
Thad followed her in, visibly more concerned. He jogged over to the group immediately, crouching beside Uzi and N with genuine urgency.
"Okay, okay—everyone still in one piece?" he asked, checking for obvious damage. "You look... uh. Worse than usual."
N smiled despite everything. "Oh! Hi, Thad! Yep! Just a teeny tiny near-death experience. Super fun."
Uzi shot him a look. "Don't encourage it."
Thad nodded, already pulling out spare parts and makeshift bandages. "Alright, hold still. Both of you. V—don't pretend you're fine."
"I'm always fine," V muttered.
Lizzy finally glanced up long enough to wrinkle her nose. "Ugh. This place is giving major 'haunted basement' vibes. Can we hurry this up?"
She didn't move to help Uzi or N, not even pretending to care. Her attention snapped immediately to V instead.
"Oh my god, V, your arm looks wrecked," she said, suddenly animated. "Here—sit, I'll fix it."
V blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "...Huh."
Thad noticed. Everyone noticed. But nobody commented.
As Thad worked, he and Lizzy exchanged uneasy glances. Eventually, Thad cleared his throat.
"So... uh. While Rachel is gone," he began carefully, "we should probably talk about something."
Lizzy sighed dramatically, locking her phone and tucking it under her arm. "Okay, so. This is gonna sound weird. And before you say it—no, it's not a prank."
N tilted his head. "Oh! I love weird!"
Thad winced. "Rachel was... not great. Earlier."
V's eyes narrowed. "Define 'not great.'"
"She was acting," Lizzy searched for the word, "kind of... hostile? Toward you two. Like—specifically V and N."
Uzi scoffed. "What, she called them murder machines or something? Join the club."
"No," Thad said. "It was more than that."
Lizzy crossed her arms. "She said some stuff. Real nasty. Like... she didn't think you counted as people."
Silence settled over the room.
N blinked once. Then laughed awkwardly. "Haha! Oh wow, that's silly. Rachel's always been super nice to us!"
Uzi shook her head. "Yeah, no. That doesn't track."
V smirked. "Please. You two are just messing with us."
Thad opened his mouth to argue—
—and stopped.
Footsteps echoed from the far hallway.
Rachel stepped into the lab.
At first glance, everything seemed... normal. Her posture was straight, her movements fluid. No visible damage. No panic. No urgency. She walked with measured steps, hands folded loosely at her sides.
Didn't greet them. Didn't even blink.
Her digital eyes flickered faintly, like a screen buffering on a corrupted signal.
"Oh! There you are, Rachel!" N chirped, relief immediate. "Welcome back!"
She stopped a few feet away from them.
"So," N continued, gesturing cheerfully, "did you manage to deal with Lucky and the Beckoning Reaper?"
Rachel didn't answer right away.
Her eyes flickered again—faster this time. Lines of unreadable data rippled across her pupils, vanishing almost as soon as they appeared.
"They won't be a problem anymore."
Not loudly. Not dramatically. Just... wrong. Like it was passing through something before reaching them.
Thad frowned. "Uh... you okay there?"
Lizzy tilted her head. "Your voice sounds... filtered."
It was slow. Careful. And far too wide.
"I've never felt better."
Too smooth. Too controlled. Every movement precise, calculated. Like she was gliding rather than walking.
Uzi pushed herself upright. "Alright, this is officially creepy."
V's claws extended with a soft click.
Her gaze lingered on each of them—Uzi, N, V—like she was examining something unfinished.
"Well," Uzi said, backing toward the exit, "thanks for the help, but mission's done, so we're gonna—"
A wet, metallic crack split the air.
Something erupted from Rachel's back.
A jagged, blackened spike tore through her plating like it had always been there, unfurling outward in a violent arc before slamming into the wall beside the exit. Metal screamed as it embedded itself deep, spiderweb cracks radiating outward.
"Oh no," she said softly.
"That is not what you want."
The spike pulsed, veins of dark energy crawling along its surface. Rachel's frame twitched—then stilled. Her limbs bent at angles that were just slightly off, like her joints had been redefined.
"You are right where you want to be."
Her eyes glowed brighter now, symbols flickering beneath the surface.
Uzi swallowed. "Nope. Nope nope nope."
Thad backed away slowly. "Rachel... listen. This isn't funny."
For a moment—just a moment—something flickered behind her eyes. Confusion. Strain. Pain.
"You misunderstand," the thing wearing Rachel said calmly. "This is not about humor."
Another spike began to form.
"You were brought here for a reason."
V snarled. "Yeah? And what reason is that?"
Rachel's smile widened impossibly.
"To be removed from reality."
The lab then shook with the impact of metal against metal. Sparks rained down like miniature fireworks, bouncing off the walls and scorching the cracked tiles. The air vibrated with the sound of grinding gears and the high-pitched whine of overheating circuits.
Uzi ducked under a jagged swing, her plasma pulses slicing a jagged streak through the air. The Unsolvable had her cornered. One moment it was Rachel, the next—it shimmered, morphing its plating into V's sharp, angular silhouette.
"V?!" N yelled, flinching back as the mimic's voice was her voice, exact in cadence, exact in tone. Every twitch, every subtle movement—it knew her. N's wing twitched instinctively, trying to anticipate the attack.
The Unsolvable lunged at him, a blur of deadly precision. Its claws, now glinting with a phosphorescent black sheen, tore across N's side, bending metal plating but leaving him alive. Sparks flew from the contact as N skidded back across the floor, slamming into a console. Warning lights flickered madly around him.
"You can't... match me," the Unsolvable hissed in V's voice, its posture now identical to hers, claws snapping in her habitual defensive stance. "You're predictable. Always predictable."
N scrambled to his feet, wings trembling, energy pulses firing in rapid succession. Each shot met empty air—the Unsolvable had anticipated him, weaving between bursts with impossible speed. Every movement it made was perfect, precise, and yet wrong. Its smile flickered with Rachel's ghost, and for a second, N could feel her inside there, trapped, screaming silently.
Uzi dove forward, her claws extended, aiming straight for the creature's core. But The Unsolvable flickered again, morphing into the likeness of her mother, a perfect simulation of the warmth she remembered.
"Uzi... why are you doing this?" it asked, voice sweet, intimate, almost pleading. The tone made her pause. Her optics widened; her claws faltered.
"No... stop it!" she screamed, realizing her hesitation was exactly what it needed. It struck like a coiled spring. Uzi's body slammed into the wall, the impact making a metallic clang that echoed through the lab. She slid down the cold tiles, systems rattling, but alive.
V charged next, claws aimed high, intent on slashing through the shifting monstrosity. The Unsolvable twisted mid-air, plating flickering violently, and V's own face replaced Rachel's in a flash. The effect was disorienting: the predator's eyes became her own, her posture mirrored her every motion. Causing V to stumble back for a moment.
"How interesting," it said, voice hers. "You pretend to be strong, to be emotionless, yet when looking in a mirror..." It flexed its claws, the blackened tips glinting. "...You stumble. What an amusing little weakness."
The three regrouped, circling, hearts pounding. Each swing, each strike was met with a counterstrike that seemed to anticipate not just their actions but their thoughts. Every time N aimed, The Unsolvable became Uzi mid-strike, mimicking her exact trajectory and speed, blocking the attack with uncanny precision.
Uzi, panting, rolled to the side, plasma sparks ricocheting off the walls. She fired again, targeting the same area—but The Unsolvable shimmered into the form of Rachel once more, fingers outstretched as if welcoming the attack. The blasts hit nothing but air, the echo deafening in the empty lab.
N staggered, wings scorched from a near miss, heart racing. "We... can't—figure it out... it's too fast!"
V gritted her teeth, claws grinding against the floor. She lunged again, slashing horizontally—but the Unsolvable's plating rippled, now V herself, mimicking her angle, her movement, every twitch. The blades met resistance that felt like metal hitting metal—but the thing was alive, morphing in real time.
Uzi groaned, rolling behind a fallen console. Sparks leapt across the room as The Unsolvable struck, shifting suddenly into Nori again—her tone warm, her words soft. "Why... fight me, Uzi? Come home."
Her systems flagged confusion. Her heart-rate—or whatever analogue she had for it—spiked. She fired anyway, her mind screaming at her not to fall for it. But The Unsolvable flowed around her attacks with fluid precision, plating stretching, warping, shifting back into Rachel's deadpan smile, then V's scowl, then N's anxious grin—all at once.
The trio retreated, backs against the wall. Every console they smashed was repaired in seconds, black goo oozing across the surfaces to reassemble The Unsolvable's shifting form.
"This... isn't fair," N gasped, energy overload alarms blaring in his chest. "It's learning everything we do!"
"It's... not just learning," V hissed, claws digging into the floor to stabilize herself. "It's using us—our faces, our voices—our memories. It's... it's us, but worse!"
Uzi's expression flickered, her optics scanning desperately. Every corridor, every shadow, every reflection in the shattered glass seemed to whisper—watch out, I see you, I know you.
The Unsolvable's laugh echoed from multiple directions, flickering, disorienting. One moment it was Rachel, arms outstretched like a welcoming friend. The next, it was V, coiled to strike, then Uzi, whispering secrets no one else should know.
And yet... no one was dead.
N barely dodged a crushing blow from Rachel's elongated claws, skidding against the wall. Sparks showered him. V's swings were deflected with inhuman timing, slicing chunks from the walls as The Unsolvable morphed seamlessly between her likeness and Rachel's corpse-like smile. Uzi's plasma bursts left scars on the concrete—never on it.
Every instinct, every reflex, every hard-earned combat skill was met with a mirrored, pre-emptive counter.
The trio was pushed further, deeper into the shattered lab, slipping across oil-slick floors, knocked over debris, spinning metal panels, broken consoles. The air thickened with the stench of scorched wiring and ozone.
"We... can't keep this up," N gasped, clutching a scorched wing. "It's... adapting too fast!"
V's claws scraped the floor, sparks jumping. "We need a plan... but it's like it's reading our minds!"
Uzi wiped sweat from her brow—or what passed for it—and hissed, "We... we need to regroup. We're losing ground fast..."
The Unsolvable paused for just a heartbeat. Its eyes glowed across three different faces at once: Rachel, Uzi, V. A smirk flickered across each visage simultaneously.
"Exactly," it said. "You are losing. And I... am winning."
It lunged again, faster than anything they had seen, and the lab erupted in a storm of sparks and metal.
Uzi dove for cover. V slid under a shattered table, claws scraping, optics wide with panic. N slammed himself against a wall, struggling to hold his wings out against a swipe that would have torn them apart if they hadn't twisted mid-block.
The camera of the lab—if anyone had eyes to see it—would have recorded nothing but chaos. Sparks flew. Black goo spread. The Unsolvable's form shimmered constantly, alternating between Rachel's blank stare, V's hardened glare, and Uzi's mother's pleading eyes.
And then, with a final, heavy, reverberating impact, it slammed into the floor, sending the three of them sprawling backward.
The lab settled into a tense silence. Sparks sputtered, lights flickered, and the cold, metallic air pressed down on them. The trio lay on the floor, gasping, plating scraped, energy systems taxed to their limits.
It was a soft, distorted sound—like corrupted audio dragged through a grinder and played back at the wrong speed. The sound echoed from Rachel's throat, warped and layered with something far deeper, something that didn't belong in any body at all.
"Okay. Okay," it said mildly. "This was amusing."
Rachel's stolen body straightened. The smile on her face didn't reach her eyes—eyes that no longer reflected light correctly, symbols crawling beneath the surface like living code.
"But I think," the Unsolvable continued, tilting its head, "I will end this here."
The mouth of Rachel's body opened wider than it should have.
Metal groaned. Plating strained.
And from inside her throat, something pushed forward.
An eldritch claw forced its way past teeth and tongue, tearing through synthetic flesh with a wet, nauseating rip. Blackened, sinew-like material unfolded outward, dripping with viscous fluid that hissed when it touched the floor.
A desperate, broken gurgle that scraped against the walls of the lab, raw and helpless. Her hands clawed weakly at her own throat, fingers twitching as if some part of her—somewhere—was still trying to fight.
N's optics widened in horror.
V's claws trembled, her stance breaking for just a fraction of a second.
The Unsolvable stepped forward, dragging the malformed claw across the floor, carving lines into the tile as it approached them.
"Don't worry," it said gently. "It will be quick."
—and a whine split the air.
A single round tore through the lab, shimmering with unstable energy.
The bullet struck the eldritch claw dead-center.
For half a second, nothing happened.
The sound was violent and wrong, layered with overlapping voices that had never been meant to exist together. The claw recoiled instantly as nitrate acid ate through the corrupted flesh, dissolving it into bubbling sludge that sloughed off onto the floor in smoking chunks.
The thing staggered back, clutching the ruined limb as black fluid dripped and sizzled.
Then a familiar voice drawled.
"We ain't late to da party, are we?"
Uzi snapped her head toward the entrance.
Standing at the edge of the ruined lab was Lucky, braced behind a cracked support beam, acid sniper still humming from the shot. The barrel smoked faintly, energy rippling along its length. He held it like it was an extension of himself—steady, confident, unapologetic.
Beside him stood K0rra, wings folded tight, posture coiled and ready. Her orange optics burned with focused fury, scanning the Unsolvable with predatory precision.
And drifting just behind them—
The spirit of Doll, her form faint and translucent, eyes glowing softly as she hovered inches above the floor. The air around her felt heavier, pressure building in subtle waves.
The Unsolvable straightened slowly.
Its ruined claw continued to melt, reforming sluggishly, as its gaze shifted between the newcomers. Fascination flickered behind its eyes—genuine, sharp, and dangerous.
"How... interesting," it said. "You three actually survived this time."
Lucky squinted, adjusting his stance. "Now hold on just a second," he said. "What d'you mean this time?"
K0rra stepped forward before anyone else could speak, her voice sharp as broken glass.
"Explain," she demanded. "Now."
"I suppose I could ask why I should bother," it said lightly. "But it hardly matters."
Its gaze flicked briefly to Rachel's trembling hands—still clawing weakly at her throat—before returning to them.
"Because," it continued, "it will all play out the same way anyway... I shall indulge you."
It took a step back, never lowering its guard, eyes tracking everyone at once.
"You see," it said calmly, "I am trapped."
The lights in the lab flickered as it spoke.
"Trapped in a never-ending loop."
Its voice deepened, layered with something ancient.
"I always accomplish my goal. You fight. You struggle. You die. All of you."
"After that," the Unsolvable continued, "I destroy myself. And for a time... I am at peace."
Its smile softened. Almost wistful.
"The universe resets. And I enjoy centuries—so many centuries—of perfect non-existence."
"But it never lasts," the Unsolvable said quietly.
"The universe torments me. It replays everything. Every moment. Every failure of creation. The birth of that... dreaded Cyn."
Cyn, still being an extension to Uzi, falters. her expression, although being hard to read, turns downcast and she remains surprisingly silent.
The Unsolvable's tone sharpened.
"The collapse of humanity. The imbalance that followed."
"And then," it finished, "my own birth."
Lucky shifted his grip on the rifle.
"Every cycle," the Unsolvable said, looking directly at Uzi now, "you die. Everyone you love dies."
"The Beckoning Reaper dies by my hand."
"You watch them all fade."
"The cycle continues," it said softly. "And yet... I persist."
"Because I know that if I keep trying, I will eventually possess the knowledge required to break the cycle."
"You cannot change fate," the Unsolvable went on. "But what fascinates me..."
It gestured vaguely around the room.
"...is that every time I fight you for the first time, you and the Reaper perish."
"And yet... here you are."
"A slight deviation," it admitted. "A statistical anomaly."
Its smile returned—sharp, certain.
It took one deliberate step forward.
"It will not change the outcome."
Rachel's body shuddered violently as the Unsolvable's grip tightened again, corrupted matter beginning to crawl back toward her throat.
The Unsolvable straightened fully.
The partially dissolved claw retracted back into Rachel's mouth with a sickening squelch, teeth knitting back into place as if nothing grotesque had ever emerged from there. Rachel's body continued to tremble faintly—small, involuntary movements that betrayed the struggle happening beneath the surface.
"But the only reason you are not dead," the Unsolvable said calmly, "in this micro-instant..."
Its eyes swept across the room—Uzi, N, V, Lucky, K0rra, Doll, even the shaking forms of Thad and Lizzy hidden among the rubble.
"...is because I find you all mildly amusing."
"So," it continued, spreading Rachel's hands slowly, mockingly open, "I will indulge your misguided hopes for a brief moment."
The lights dimmed again, bending toward it.
"Come," the Unsolvable said, voice smooth with confidence. "Fight me."
A faint, almost playful smile tugged at Rachel's stolen face.
"I will allow you the first shot," it added. "And I will even withhold the true extent of my power... for longer than you deserve."
Lucky let out a low whistle.
"Well," he muttered, "ain't that generous."
He turned, glancing between K0rra and Doll.
"You ladies don't mind handlin' it while I fix dem three up, do ya?"
Doll didn't speak. She simply floated a little higher and gave a slow, deliberate thumbs-up, her expression unreadable.
"Go for it," she said confidently. "We'll handle the false god."
She paused, then raised a finger.
Before Lucky could react, K0rra grabbed him by the front of his jacket, lifting him effortlessly to her height. For half a second, his optics went wide—
—and then she planted a quick, firm kiss against his metallic cheek.
"Just a little token of good luck," she said casually, releasing him.
Lucky staggered back a step, clearing his throat and trying very hard not to short-circuit.
"R-Right," he muttered. "Appreciate it."
He skated over to Uzi, N, and V immediately, tools already out, hands moving fast and precise. Sparks flew as he reinforced cracked plating, stabilized damaged joints, and rerouted stressed power lines.
"Y'all hang in there," he said softly. "You did good."
Uzi clenched her jaw but nodded.
N gave a shaky thumbs-up. "Thanks, Lucky..."
V didn't speak—but she didn't pull away either.
Lucky's optics flicked toward movement in the rubble.
Thad and Lizzy were crouched behind a collapsed beam, pressed close together, optics wide with concern and fear. Nestled protectively between them was Sparky, V's pet sentinel, its lens glowing defensively.
"Hey," Lucky called, rolling over.
Lucky slid two identical acid snipers across the floor toward them—the same model he'd used earlier.
"Maybe make yourselves helpful," he said gently. "If you wanna. No pressure."
Thad then reached for one.
Lucky gave them a nod, then turned back as the lab shook violently.
Across the room, K0rra and Doll had already engaged.
K0rra darted forward, fast and aggressive, drawing the Unsolvable's attention as Doll's presence warped the air itself—pressure bending, objects trembling as unseen force coiled around her.
The Unsolvable didn't look concerned.
Lucky finished tightening the last brace on V's arm and stepped back.
"All right," he said, rising to his full height and pulling his sniper up again. "You're back in the fight."
Uzi pushed herself upright, systems screaming but stable.
N spread his wings cautiously.
V flexed her claws, optics burning.
Lucky took position beside them, rifle ready.
Behind them, Thad and Lizzy shakily followed suit, Sparky bristling, lens locked on the enemy.
The Unsolvable only smiled.
As if it already knew how this would end.
The next move belonged to them.
"Now," the Unsolvable said pleasantly.
Her railgun whined as it charged, the familiar vibration rattling up her arm. She fired first—one brilliant, screaming beam of compressed energy ripping across the lab and slamming directly into Rachel's torso.
The Unsolvable let it hit.
The blast tore straight through its chest, punching a molten hole clean out the other side and obliterating a bank of equipment behind it. For a split second, Rachel's body sagged, smoke pouring from the wound.
Then the black matter surged.
The hole sealed in seconds, flesh and metal knitting together in a nauseating reversal of damage.
"Well done," the Unsolvable said, genuinely approving. "You still remember how to aim."
The air bent, light refracting as the Unsolvable slid sideways through space itself and reappeared directly in front of N.
Instead, its form rippled and resolved into Uzi—perfectly. Her posture. Her glare. Her railgun stance.
The mimic-Uzi slammed into him, driving him backward with inhuman strength. N crashed through a table, wings flaring as alarms blared from his frame.
"DON'T LOOK AT IT," V snarled.
She lunged, claws carving toward the Unsolvable's neck—
Same predatory grin. Same coiled aggression.
V hesitated for less than a second.
The Unsolvable-V headbutted her, sending her skidding across the floor in a spray of sparks. V hit a wall hard, denting it with her shoulder before dropping to one knee.
Two acid rounds streaked across the lab, one grazing the Unsolvable's side, the other splashing across its back. The black matter hissed violently, melting and sloughing away as the creature recoiled with a sharp snarl.
"Still annoying," it muttered.
The room lurched as invisible force slammed into the Unsolvable, pinning it against the far wall. Metal groaned. Panels buckled inward as if crushed by an unseen fist.
K0rra didn't waste the opening.
She rocketed forward, slamming into the trapped entity with brutal precision—claws, kicks, wings, every movement a practised strike. Each blow landed with a thunderous crack, driving the Unsolvable deeper into the wall.
For the first time, it looked irritated.
Reality warped around it, and suddenly K0rra's last strike passed straight through empty air.
The Unsolvable reappeared behind her, arm already reshaping—
—but before it could strike, something strange happened.
K0rra moved without thinking.
Not because she dodged—but because, for a fraction of a second, her body wasn't where it should have been.
Her plating rippled—wrong, unstable—and she reappeared a meter to the side, stumbling slightly as if she'd tripped over reality itself.
"So... that's new," she muttered.
Across the room, Lucky narrowly avoided a killing blow meant for him.
The Unsolvable lunged, claws aimed straight for his core—
He blinked, suddenly several feet away, skidding to a stop, optics wide.
Its gaze locked onto them both.
For the first time since the fight began, something close to genuine surprise flickered across its face.
"...Interesting," it said quietly.
Neither Lucky nor K0rra had time to process it.
She fired again. The railgun blast tore across the lab, forcing the Unsolvable to shift forms mid-motion—this time into N, wings spread, expression panicked.
Uzi grit her teeth and fired anyway.
The blast clipped it, tearing off a wing-shaped mass of black matter that dissolved midair. The Unsolvable snarled and retaliated instantly, hurling a shard of hardened Solver-matter that slammed into Uzi's railgun and sent it spinning across the floor.
—but the Unsolvable was faster.
It slammed a foot down beside the weapon, cracking the floor and sending Uzi tumbling backward.
"You rely on it too much," it said, now wearing V's face again. "Predictable."
N tackled it from the side, claws digging in as he tried to hold it back. "HEY—! OVER HERE!"
The Unsolvable allowed itself to be grabbed.
Then its body collapsed inward, turning fluid, tendrils erupting outward and slamming N into the ceiling. He crashed down hard, wings spasming as he struggled to rise.
V roared and leapt, slashing wildly.
The Unsolvable caught her wrist.
V screamed as servos screamed louder, her arm locking up painfully before it hurled her across the room like scrap.
The acid round struck true, splashing across the Unsolvable's leg and forcing it to stagger. Lizzy fired too—wild, panicked—but the shot still clipped its shoulder.
Sparky barked mechanically and charged, ramming into the Unsolvable's side with a crackling surge of energy.
The Unsolvable straightened slowly, black matter boiling, regenerating faster now, more violently. Its eyes glowed brighter, symbols accelerating beneath the surface.
"Well," it said, tone sharpening, "this deviation grows more... annoying."
It looked at Lucky and K0rra again.
"You weren't meant to have that," it added softly.
The lights in Cabin Fever Labs went out.
Emergency power kicked in a heartbeat later, bathing everything in deep red.
And in that crimson glow, the Unsolvable stepped forward—
—and the fight exploded into chaos once more.
The Unsolvable stopped smiling.
The shift was subtle—but unmistakable.
Whatever amusement it had been indulging in drained away, replaced by something tighter. Sharper. The air itself seemed to tense, as if the lab recognized the change before anyone else did.
Its voice, when it spoke again, was no longer playful.
"No more games, mortals!"
The sound hit like a shockwave.
Rachel's body lifted a few inches off the ground as the Unsolvable raised one hand skyward. The symbols beneath her optics burned brighter, rotating faster, and then—
The floor cracked. Consoles shattered. Loose debris was hurled across the chamber as if gravity had momentarily lost interest in restraint.
"You see, the fallen are hungry. The fallen are starving."
The words carried weight. Not metaphorical—literal. Something deep beneath Cabin Fever Labs responded.
From the darkness of side corridors, from collapsed maintenance shafts, from piles of scrap that should have been inert for decades—
Rusting worker drones with shattered visors jerked upright, joints snapping back into place against all logic. Disassembly drone corpses followed, wings twitching as corrupted code forced long-dead systems back online.
Their screens flickered violently.
Cracked displays lit up with cascading error messages, overridden by lines of invasive, writhing script.
And at the center of every screen—
The dead turned their heads in unison.
Uzi's grip tightened on her railgun. "Uhhh..." she said, voice tight. "You guys take the ones on the right, we'll take the ones on the left?"
V cracked a grin anyway. "Heh. Guess it's recycling day."
Lucky didn't respond immediately.
Instead, he stared at the Unsolvable—really looked at it—at Rachel's body suspended by something that wasn't gravity anymore. Then he glanced down at his own hands.
"...Say," he muttered, "I got an idea."
K0rra shot him a glance mid-motion as Doll's power rippled outward, snapping the neck of a reanimated drone before it could fully stand.
"But y'all gonna need to cover me," Lucky continued, already moving, "by distractin' the zombos and the eldritch demon."
His tone wasn't confident.
Uzi hesitated only a fraction of a second before nodding. "Okay. Everyone—loud, aggressive, extremely annoying!"
"Oh, I was born ready," V said.
The lab erupted into motion.
Railgun fire tore through reanimated drones, punching molten holes through bodies that refused to stay down. Acid rounds sizzled as Thad—hands shaking but determined—fired into a cluster of advancing corpses beside Lizzy, who shrieked something incoherent and pulled the trigger anyway.
Sparky launched himself forward with a metallic bark, slamming into a worker drone and knocking it into a wall with a crack of electricity.
"Ha! You really calling on an army?" V shouted, slicing through a corpse with brutal efficiency. "What, you too weak to face us on your own?"
Uzi added, "Yeah! For a timeless cosmic horror, your confidence is weirdly fragile!"
N, panting as he wrestled a disassembly drone off his wing, yelled, "Also! Your fashion sense is confusing!"
The Unsolvable did not respond.
While chaos consumed the lab, he worked fast—hands moving in practised rhythm as he assembled a crude decoy from spare plating, scrap limbs, and a jamming signal. He slid it into place just as something felt wrong in the air.
Then he crouched behind a fallen beam.
"...C'mon," he whispered. "C'mon... c'mon... c'mon..."
On the strange flicker he'd felt earlier—the impossible sidestep, the wrongness that had saved him once already.
"...Please," he muttered.
Metal folded inward. Plating rearranged. Systems re-indexed violently as Lucky shrank, twisted, and collapsed into a form barely larger than a credit chip.
A robotic cockroach skittered out from beneath the beam.
"...Hah," Lucky breathed, stunned even as he scuttled forward. "I'll be damned."
The reanimated corpses dropped mid-motion, collapsing lifelessly back to the floor.
The word slammed into the room like a physical force.
Eldritch tentacles exploded from Rachel's back, black and writhing, lashing out in all directions. One by one, they wrapped around Uzi, N, V, K0rra, Doll—pinning limbs, wings, weapons. Locking them in place.
The Unsolvable's gaze swept the room.
"...Where did you go?" it asked quietly.
The decoy stood in the open, humming faintly.
The Unsolvable mocked, stepping closer.
A small skitter brushed against Rachel's shoulder.
"Is this really your plan? sending a little bug to me?"
Stabbed straight through the decoy's chest.
The fake Lucky collapsed instantly, falling apart into scrap.
Metal expanded violently outward as Lucky reformed mid-air, boots hitting the floor with force.
Before the Unsolvable could react, Lucky slammed the USB directly into Rachel's screen.
The impact shattered it slightly.
The patch activated instantly.
"AHHH! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?! I'LL BE STUCK IN THAT ENDLESS VOID PERMANENTLY! AFTER ALL I'VE TOLD YOU? ALL I'VE GIVEN YOU?!"
Its body convulsed. Eldritch matter decayed, sloughing off in chunks as corrupted symbols flickered wildly and then began to erase.
As the body it was possessing began shapeshifting wildly.
Uzi collapsed to one knee.
"PLEASE! I'LL GIVE YOU ANYTHING! MONEY, FAME, RICHES, INFINITE POWER, YOUR OWN GALAXY! PLEASE! YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME!"
The Unsolvable's voice cracked—not with pain, but fear.
The Unsolvable stood alone in the void.
"Fine... Looks I'll have to use, Outside help."
"Hello. I can see you, yes you. The one reading this right now. And you are actually the most interesting being I've ever seen. So how about we make a deal? You help me get out of this void, and I shall grant you whatever your heart desires. deal?"
"Wait... why are you just scrolling past?"
"C'mon, you can't just leave me here. C'mon help a guy out, please?"
"No! Stop it! Don't leave me! You can't leave me here!"
"Nooooo! YOU FILTHY WORTHLESS-"
Rachel's systems rebooted in staggered phases.
Power returned unevenly—audio first, then optics, then the slow, creeping awareness of her own body. Her vision flickered between static and clarity before finally stabilizing.
The first thing she registered was pressure.
Arms wrapped tightly around her.
"Oh thank robo-god," Lucky breathed, his voice low and shaky against her shoulder. "I thought I wasn't gonna be able to fix you."
Rachel froze for a moment, her processors lagging behind the sudden flood of memory. The lab. The voice that wasn't hers. The choking. The fear of not being herself anymore.
"...Lucky," she said quietly.
Her voice came out smaller than she expected.
Lucky stiffened, then pulled back just enough to look at her properly. His optics searched her face—not for damage, but for her.
"Hey," he said gently, one hand still braced on her shoulder. "You ain't got nothin' to apologize to me for."
Rachel hesitated. "But I—"
"No," Lucky interrupted, shaking his head. "I mean it. That whole mess got outta hand real fast. And honestly?" He sighed. "I can't say I blame you. You were raised in a real bad situation. Folks don't come outta that kinda thing clean."
Rachel's gaze dropped to the floor.
Lucky followed her line of sight for a moment, then spoke again—more carefully this time.
"Though," he added, "there is one person you oughta apologize to."
Lucky tilted his head toward K0rra.
She hadn't meant to avoid her—it just... hurt. Knowing what she'd done. What she'd tried to do.
She hesitated, then turned fully toward K0rra.
"...The Beck—" She stopped herself, winced. "...I—sorry. I mean..."
"Oh—K0rra," K0rra supplied, her tone calm, almost encouraging.
"R-right. Okay." Rachel took a breath. "I'm sorry. For hunting you. For... everything I said. Everything I did."
She didn't look away this time.
"I didn't see you as a person," Rachel admitted. "And that was wrong."
K0rra exhaled slowly, arms folding loosely across her chest.
"I can't say I forgive ya," she said honestly. "Not yet."
Rachel nodded. "That's fair."
"But," K0rra continued after a moment, "I'll try."
That was more than Rachel had expected.
Later, at the shattered exit of Cabin Fever Labs, cold air poured in through twisted metal and broken doors. Snow drifted in on the wind, settling over the wreckage like a quiet apology from the world.
Lucky scratched the back of his head, shifting his weight.
"So uh," he said, glancing at Uzi, N, V, Thad, and Lizzy. "Me and Korrie ain't exactly headin' back to Crossdrone."
K0rra snorted softly. "Yeah. Turns out being hunted for sport kinda ruins the welcome mat."
Lucky nodded. "So... y'all wouldn't happen to have room at your colony, would ya?"
Uzi shrugged. "Yeah. Sure. We've taken in worse."
N smiled. "We can figure something out!"
V grunted. "As long as nobody tries to kill us again."
"...I don't think I'm going with you," she said quietly.
Rachel stared down at the snow collecting at her feet.
"I think... I need to be on my own for a bit. I need time to figure some things out."
"...Wait. Why?" he asked. "You sure about that?"
Rachel nodded slowly. "I just need time. To process everything. To reconsider the choices I made. To... reinvent myself."
Lucky exhaled, long and tired. He didn't like it—not one bit—but he recognized the look in her optics.
It was the same look he'd had once.
"...Yeah," he said softly. "I figured."
He hesitated, then added, "Just... take care of yaself, alright?"
Rachel looked up and smiled faintly.
"You got it." She paused, then added, a little teasing warmth returning to her voice, "Just as long as you two lovebirds take care of each other."
Lucky laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.
K0rra chuckled. "Yeah. Alright. We promise."
Rachel lifted a hand in a small wave.
And walked into the snow.
Her figure grew smaller with every step until the storm swallowed her entirely—leaving only footprints behind, already beginning to fade.
The rest of them stood there for a moment longer.
Then, quietly, they turned back toward home.
The days following the Unsolvable’s defeat blurred together.
Days turned into weeks.
Weeks into months.
For the first time in a long while, the colony existed without an immediate, existential threat looming overhead. Repairs became routine instead of desperate. Laughter returned—hesitant at first, then more freely.
When Lucky and K0rra arrived, the colony welcomed them with surprising openness.
Not without a few… mishaps.
One particularly loud incident involved Nori Doorman discovering—quite abruptly—that Lucky was Alice’s adopted son.
Another involved the realization that Lucky had been in the process of repairing Alice from the dead.
Voices were raised. Tools were nearly thrown.
But, somehow, it all settled.
“Ma! Hold still, I’m not quite done with da adjustments yet…”
Lucky muttered, leaning over his workbench as sparks flickered around his hands. He fumbled carefully with the final connection points of a newly installed arm, tightening internal supports with focused precision.
“Well pardon me for wantin’ to have a peek,” Alice snapped back.
There was irritation in her voice—but no real anger. More like the grumbling impatience of someone who hated sitting still.
Lucky had made a deliberate choice when rebuilding her.
Instead of restoring her to a standard worker drone body, he’d given her a disassembly drone frame—sleek, reinforced, capable. If the universe had taught them anything, it was that vulnerability came at a cost.
K0rra stood nearby, arms folded, watching quietly. Beside her sat Beau, newly repaired and very much alive again, optics flicking curiously between Lucky and Alice.
“Okay… that should do it,” Lucky said, stepping back. “Try movin’ it slow-like.”
Alice flexed the new arm, servos humming smoothly.
“Huh,” she muttered. “Feels… sturdy.”
Near the entrance of Door 1, Uzi, V, and N were sprawled across a crate and a half-collapsed barrier, cards spread between them.
They’d collectively decided that Go Fish was an act of psychological warfare.
N squinted at his hand. “Okay, but I swear this game is way harder than it looks.”
V smirked. “You’re just bad at it.”
Uzi frowned suddenly, glancing down at her tail.
“Okay,” she sighed, “why are you quiet? You’re normally never this well-behaved.”
“Oh, no reason,” Cyn said flatly. “I’m just an annoying little pest that cannot be redeemed.”
N tilted his head. “You’re still thinking about what the Unsolvable said, aren’t you?”
Her tail drooped slightly.
Uzi pinched the bridge of her nose. “Ugh. Look—how about this?”
“I’ll ask Lucky to make you a body,” Uzi continued. “A real one. Then have him transfer your consciousness into it. How does that sound?”
Cyn’s optics lit up instantly.
“Really? For me?” she said, tail flicking. “Happy expression!”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Uzi muttered. “I just can’t have you moping around when that’s my thing, okay?”
“Okay, easy now, Mrs. Alice,” K0rra said gently, offering a steadying hand as Alice tested her new legs.
“I think I can take it from here, lass,” Alice replied.
She straightened, then began walking on her own—slow at first, then more confident with every step. Beau toddled after her faithfully.
“Just don’t go murderin’ anyone, Ma!” Lucky called after them. “It ain’t exactly allowed ‘round here!”
Alice waved dismissively without turning back.
Lucky sighed, rubbing his temples.
“Okay,” he muttered to himself, glancing at his growing list of projects. “That’s two new bodies made.”
He looked over toward Doll’s resting place, then toward Nori’s schematics.
“Now just gotta make one for Doll,” he added quietly, “and Mrs. Doorman.”
His shoulders slumped just a little.
“Hey,” she said softly. “You’ve been workin’ really hard. How ‘bout you take a break?”
“Love to do dat,” Lucky replied automatically, “but this is important and I—woah!”
He yelped as K0rra suddenly scooped him up with ease.
“You’re takin’ a break, mister,” she said firmly, “whether you like it or not.”
Lucky blinked. “…You do realize I have legs, right?”
She turned toward the colony entrance.
“Now c’mon,” K0rra continued. “I heard Uzi, V, and N are playin’ gin rummy.”
“Okay, okay!” Lucky laughed. “I’ll come—but at least put me down first?”
She set him down gently, and the two of them started walking side by side toward the entrance—toward the sound of bickering, laughter, and cards being slapped against metal.
