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[ID: An Inanimate Insanity fanfic cover, showing MePhone3GS lying with his back against a heavily cracked wall in a storage closet. His eyes are wide, their centers white, portraying a terrified expression, and his mouth is absent. Meanwhile, Steve Cobs's shadow towers over him, white ovals representing his glasses present within the shadow. The fic's title, FOOTNOTE, appears at the top-center of the screen, in the same font the Inanimate Insanity season 2 title uses. /end ID]

Fandom: Inanimate Insanity Rating: T Genre: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Missing Scene Characters: MePhone3GS & Steve Cobs (MePhone1 and MePhone3G show up in flashbacks) Warnings: Physical and psychological abuse, PTSD, flashbacks, panic attacks, torture (Cobs doesn't see it as such, but that's basically what it is). Technically parental abuse given Cobs is effectively 3GS's parent. Fic Description: After returning from the mission, 3GS delivers the sample to Steve Cobs, all the while hoping that Cobs will allow him to go on a rescue mission to save One and 3G. But things go far, far worse than 3GS could have ever fathomed. Beta Readers: @jaywings and @mechmolar DISCLAIMER: This fic is from 3GS's perspective, and he has some warped views of everything with the Shimmers. What he did was wrong, but he does not realize that yet. I do not agree with 3GS's views on the situation with the Shimmers. Got it? Cool.

---~~~---

The engines of the ship rumbled in a rhythmic melody beneath him, while the computers above added an occasional chirping chorus.

3GS's back was flat against the floor as he stared up at the ceiling; there was no need to man the console, as their home coordinates had been programmed into the ship from the start, so the return trip could be done via autopilot.

Which was helpful, as he found his own systems to not quite be in working order. When he wasn't focused on the sounds around him, or the feeling of the ship beneath him, he felt as though he were floating away, despite the fact that the ship's artificial gravity negated the zero-g of space. It must have been a calibration issue. He could ask Mr. Cobs to look into it later, once this was all over.

In the ceiling above him, he could see the landscape of the outer shell, still dusted in its own fragments. Smoke poured from One's body, while 3G's shattered screen stared blankly up at him.

Pain sparked through his own screen, and he cried out—his own voice sounding strangely garbled in his speakers—bringing his hands to it, only to recall that his left hand was occupied. With the other, he tenderly felt over the cracks in his glass, wondering how difficult the repairs would be.

Glancing over to his left, he saw the pink shell gleam in the artificial light.

The sample.

Despite everything—their failed negotiations, the necessary violence, having to leave his companions behind—the mission had succeeded.

Not in the way he'd imagined it would, but it had. He would have to content himself with that for now. He just had to return to base, smooth things over with Mr. Cobs, and then prepare for a rescue mission. He wouldn't keep One and 3G waiting.

"Now entering Earth's atmosphere."

Wincing, he drew the sample closer to himself, holding it with both hands as he braced himself against the floor. The whole vessel shook tremendously as it breached the atmosphere, and for a moment he was gripped by the terror that he would drop the sample, and shatter it, and he would lose everything. Why hadn't he put it in their storage—they had storage to put the samples into, why hadn't he put it in there? It was too late to get up now, but if the ship jolted just the wrong way, he might lose his grip, and...

But the ship was already stabilizing, and he drew in a few shaky breaths to calm himself. Not that he needed them—he didn't even have lungs—but it felt like it worked. "It's okay," he said, and startled at his own voice. It still sounded bad, but... maybe he could ask Mr. Cobs to fix that, too. "It's okay. You can do this."

Shakily he sat up, clutching the sample close to himself as the ship neared its destination. His aching joints tensed at the prospect of confronting Cobs, but surely he would understand. They had embarked on a dangerous, never-before-done mission, encountered a new alien species, and obtained the sample that Cobs needed—they had accomplished so much, made history, surely.

It would be fine.

The roar of the engines slowly lessened into a whine as the ship's descent slowed. 3GS rose to his feet, limping for the console and the screens above it, which displayed golden clouds rolling just below a landing pad, a winding path, and the massive building it led to.

Home.

He braced himself against the console, shutting his eyes as he felt its descent continue to slow, the artificial gravity gradually replacing itself with true gravity. His grip tightened around the sample—but not too much—as the ground lurched beneath him. Drawing in another breath, he opened his eyes, and jabbed a button on the console.

The door opened, and natural sunlight overpowered the artificial light of the ship as the rays spilled through the doorway.

With a hesitant smile, 3GS limped toward the door-turned-ramp, deliberately taking longer strides to stretch out his joints until the limp receded. He winced as he stepped into the sunlight, pausing to let his optical systems recalibrate before moving on. The light warmed the cold steel of his body as he stepped out onto the landing pad, and his smile grew more genuine... only to falter.

Where was Mr. Cobs?

Surely he would have received the alert that the ship was nearing the MeCloud. He had to know that they'd landed. Right?

But 3GS shook himself—no, Cobs was a busy man. He was probably waiting for him in his office as he worked on some project or other—perhaps whatever he intended to use the sample for.

With that in mind, he marched forward, crossing the familiar path to the building and ascending the elevator. Gratefulness flooded through his circuits as he leaned against the elevator wall, clutching the sample close to his frame. "If only One and 3G were here..." he murmured, but shook himself again. No, he'd be on a rescue mission soon enough, and then they would be able to enjoy this victory with him. They'd all come back, go through some repairs, and be ready to help Mr. Cobs with his next new innovation. Soon—things would all be fine soon.

But as he stepped out of the elevator and into the show floor, a sense of unease surged through his circuits. His gaze flicked to one of the security cameras in the room—Mr. Cobs could be watching him. But what did that matter? He would only see 3GS returning with the sample he'd asked for. He had nothing to fear, yet he couldn't shake the feeling that something was... wrong.

He quickened his march to double-time.

The familiar rooms passed by in a blur, only to slow again as 3GS neared the great golden doors emblazoned with the Meeple logo. Drawing in another breath, he approached the doors, reaching out with his free hand to knock on them. Upon receiving no response, he faltered, only to steel himself as he pushed the doors open, stepping inside. "Mr. Cobs?"

The sight that greeted him was a familiar one: a long office with an incredibly high ceiling that the windows stretched up from the floor to reach. A rich red carpet atop the tiled floor marked a path from the doorway to the polished desk at the end of the room. There, at the other side of the desk, a peak of yellow kernels stuck out just above the high back of a gray leather chair.

And just behind that were several monitors displaying the landing pad, the foyer, the show room, and the hallways.

3GS gave a jolt; he had been watched. But, again, he steeled himself; what did he have to hide?

"Ah, 3GS," Cobs said lightly, spinning the chair around to face him. To 3GS's relief, he was smiling warmly, arms leaning on his desk. "Great to have you back! Sorry, I was—" He paused, then laughed, shaking his head. "Well, we'll get to that later. But, come in! Looks like you didn't come back empty handed, so let's see it!"

Smiling, 3GS gave a salute before marching forward, holding out the sample in both hands. He set it gingerly upon the desk, and Cobs snatched it up immediately, turning it in his hands, staring over it, his eyes gleaming behind his glasses. There was almost a sort of hunger behind that gaze, but that was absurd—surely Cobs wouldn't have sent him out on this mission to obtain a mere meal.

"This... this is it," Cobs murmured, rubbing his hand over the shell. A laugh bubbled up from his chest as he rose from his chair and held the sample up into the air. "This is it! This is what I've been looking for for years!" He smirked down at 3GS, who smiled back. "Take a good look, 3GS. You're looking at the future! Wait, no, past the future. This is—this is beyond anything we've ever—" He cut himself off, chuckled, and slipped back into his chair. "But I'm getting ahead of myself."

As he watched Cobs, relief flooded through 3GS's circuits. Of course he'd had nothing to fear. There was an excess of anxiety in his emotion emulator—another thing he could ask about. "I'm glad to aid you on this mission, sir," 3GS said with another salute. "It was rough-going, but—"

"Yes, I noticed your... screen." Cobs wasn't looking at him, still staring down at the sample and drifting a finger across it, as though drawing into it. "And your voice! Oof, those speakers took some damage, huh."

A flash of a memory overtook him: one of the Shimmers rising up before him, glowing spear in hand, before it drove the spear into—

Snap, snap.

"Stay with me, 3GS," Cobs said. He was leaning across the desk, an unimpressed look crossing his face, his hand inches from 3GS's as he prepared to snap again.

3GS blinked. "S-sorry sir. I seem to be getting some glitches in my—"

"Right, right." Cobs waved a dismissive hand as he sat back down. His arm remained wrapped around the sample, hand rubbing over it. "You've sustained some damage and... well." He let out a huff of air, not quite a laugh, and turned the chair around again. "You'll have to forgive me—I was just, heh, waiting to see when the other two would arrive." He paused. "I'm a little surprised the captain left his men behind."

3GS's circuits surged again, buzzing in his microphone. "M-Mr. Cobs, I—"

Cobs held up a hand. "Let me guess. You had such a great haul that One and 3G are taking a while to carry it out. And you knew I wouldn't want to be left waiting, so you brought me one of the samples as a little taste." He turned in the chair again, not fully facing the desk, glancing at 3GS out of the corner of his eye. "Right?"

Wincing, 3GS rubbed his right arm. "A-about that, sir..."

Cobs shifted the chair just slightly; the lights from above and the sunlight behind hit his glasses at such an angle to obscure his eyes, masking his expression. He said nothing.

"I... I wanted to tell you. One and 3G were... hurt, and rendered unable to make it back to the ship on time." He straightened himself, looking Cobs firmly in the glasses. "But I am ready to embark on a rescue mission to—"

"Where's the rest of it."

It was not a question, but a demand.

3GS faltered. "The rest of...?"

"The samples."

His mechanisms went cold.

An unhappy laugh huffed out of Cob's chest as he turned to face 3GS fully. He was still smiling, but there was no longer any joy in it, and his eyes were visible again, staring down at 3GS with enough intensity to render him frozen. "You can't honestly have come all this way, and expect that I'd be satisfied with just the one sample, right."

3GS drew in a breath, trying to collect himself. "I assure you, Mr. Cobs, we fought with all our strength. We—"

"Five years."

"Wh-what?"

"Five years, 3GS," Cobs said, tucking the sample beneath his arm as he slipped out of the chair. "One thousand eight hundred and twenty-five days." He rounded the desk, nearing 3GS. "Over forty thousand hours I spent developing the technology, searching the universe, and training you and your miserable, outdated soldiers to arrive at this very moment."

He was inches from 3GS, whose emotion emulator felt like it was overloading, sparking a glitch to his stabilizers and causing him to tremble. He took a step back.

Cobs leaned forward, his voice dipping dangerously low. "And you mean to tell me that you got me one measly little sample."

A shaky, artificial breath rattled 3GS's frame. "Mr. Cobs, I assure you, we can—"

"ONE SAMPLE!" Cobs roared, stepping forward with enough speed to knock 3GS off-balance, sending him crashing to the floor. But Cobs only continued to tower over him, glaring. "Do you know what iteration is, 3GS?" He didn't wait for an answer. "It means that in order to make progress—real, glorious progress—you have to do something again and again, tweaking, improving, rebuilding. I did that with One, and then 3G, and now you. Each of you better than the last, and yet—yet—" He grabbed the sample in both hands, shoving it into 3GS's face, pressing it against his cracked screen.

3GS let out an involuntary cry. "C-Cobs—!"

"And yet you can't even get it through your pathetic processor that in order to move forward..." Cobs yanked the egg away, giving 3GS a clear view of his enraged expression. "I NEED MORE THAN ONE SAMPLE!"

Limbs curling inward in a feeble attempt to protect his screen, 3GS tried to speak, but his speakers were stuck on a loop of emulating gasps. His main processor was reeling, his emotion emulator going absolute haywire. He couldn't stabilize himself—couldn't stop shaking. He hadn't even felt this scared when the Shimmers had turned on him, when they had attacked.

Slowly the rage in Cob's face melted away to something slightly more neutral. He leaned back with a dramatic sigh, adjusting his glasses. "But, of course, setbacks do happen," he went on lightly, turning away. He placed the sample on his desk, brushing off some dirt from its surface from where it had been in contact with 3GS's screen. "I understand."

3GS's voice found him again, and he pushed himself up on his arms. "Y-you do?"

"Yes, of course. Progress can be a bumpy road, after all." Cobs's hands adjusted the sample, making sure it was stable before he turned to face 3GS once more. His smile had returned, calm and subdued. "And, hey, you can still help with that!" He stooped down, holding out a hand.

Letting out a sigh of relief, 3GS took his creator's hand, smiling as he was pulled up to his feet. "Oh, th-thank you, sir," he breathed. "I'm so glad we can work this out."

"Of course we can." Cobs patted his side tenderly with his free hand, his other still gripping 3GS's own mechanical hand. He gave it a gentle tug as he led him across the carpeted floor. "Come with me."

3GS followed Cobs without complaint, allowing himself to be led by the hand. "I t-truly am sorry for this failure," he stammered. "As the mission leader, I take full responsibility for what happened."

"Yes, yes, that's all fine and good," Cobs said, waving him off as he continued out of the office and down the hallway. "But that's in the past, right? We're not looking at the past right now." He turned, smiling at him and raising an eyebrow. "We're looking into the future!"

"Yes, of course, sir." 3GS let out a shaky laugh, his emotion emulator still recovering from the panic he'd felt earlier. Cobs's outburst had been... alarming, but if what he'd said was true, then of course he had every reason to be upset. 3GS shut his eyes for a moment, contenting himself with the fact that his creator's mood had improved, and they were on their way to fixing things.

Finally he opened his eyes, face arranging itself into a look of determination. "In order to successfully execute the rescue mission, I believe I would need my screen repaired," 3GS went on. "With it as damaged as it is, my internal components are compromised. My speakers were already damaged, as you noted, but that's not as great of an issue."

"Mmm-hmm," Cobs hummed, not looking back.

"I... I know you called my soldiers outdated, but once they've been retrieved and repaired, you could..." He thought for a moment, then brightened. "You could make progress—improve them! We could be given better defenses, and obtain even more samples than we did the last time!"

"Hmm, right, you know, I did develop a screen protector while you were gone," Cobs mused. He pulled 3GS into a room he hadn't seen in a long time—one with blue walls, brown trim, and a purple ceiling—and looked back, chuckling. "Of course, that won't do you much good at the moment."

3GS laughed as well. "Well, no. But that would be quite useful once you repair—" The door slid shut behind them, and he gave a start.

But Cobs continued to lead 3GS further into the room, near a table with a monitor and an adjustable light overhead. "Enough talking. Let's... spare that broken vocal processor for now." He smiled at him, gesturing at the table.

"Yes, sir!" With a cheerful salute, 3GS hopped up onto the table, and kept quiet as requested. When Cobs eased him onto his back, 3GS smiled calmly up at him, relieved to be getting on with these repairs.

"Now don't you worry," Cobs said, his voice gentle as he adjusted 3GS's body on the table. He gave him a tender pat. "I'm sure I can find a use for some of your parts."

3GS chuckled, only to freeze as his processor grasped the sentence, running it over and over again in his head to analyze it.

No. That couldn't possibly be right.

His voice glitched, hitching up an octave: "You... uh, you mean you're rebuilding me?"

"No, 3GS." Cobs turned away to face another screen in the center of the room. He tapped it a few times, but his body blocked whatever he was looking at from 3GS's line of sight. "Like I said, we don't look to the past. We look to the future, and beyond that." Chuckling, he turned to look at 3GS out of the corner of his eye. "And I'm afraid that future doesn't involve you."

His emotion emulator let out a burst of panic that nearly caused his processor to crash. Every mechanism in his body gave an involuntary jerk. "N-no—!" he stammered. But before he could move another joint, Cobs jabbed something on the touchscreen, and restraints suddenly shot out from the table, tightening around his wrists and ankles. 3GS gasped, struggling to move, but he was pinned.

"Now, now, calm down." Cobs strolled back up to him, smiling. "It's not a complete waste! I can still do something with that one sample you brought back. There's a bright future ahead, and even though you won't be there to witness it, you still get to contribute to it! Isn't that wonderful?"

The broken loop of gasps was overtaking his vocal processor again, and he struggled to speak through it: "P-please, sir, don't... don't do this! W-w-we can still help you! I-I can rescue the others. I've b-begun formulating a plan!"

"Pshaw, the others." Cobs rolled his eyes. "So old, outdated, obsolete… so yesterday." He shrugged, fixing 3GS with an amused grin. "What do you see in them, anyway? They don't even have emotion emulators! That was something I pioneered with you!"

"Th-they were my soldiers! My c-comrades!" 3GS shut his eyes, his face twisting. "M-my... family."

"Oh, 3GS." Cobs chuckled. "Your main processor must be damaged, too. You're a thing, not a person. Things don't have families."

3GS's digital eyes shot open, and he stared at the ceiling above, abruptly realizing it was covered in glowing, plastic stars. For a moment he saw the starry field above the outer shell, heard the enraged cries of the Shimmers, the footfalls of One and 3G.

"Frankly," Cobs went on, his voice deadpan, "it's ridiculous that I'm even conversing with you as though you were an actual person. But, hey! I don't get out of the office much these days outside of press conferences, and I need a little company sometimes, you know?"

"Th-then we can... get One and 3G back!" 3GS cried, opening his eyes and giving Cobs a wildly hopeful look. "They may be..." He winced, something within him aching. "...obsolete, but th-they can at l-least k-keep you... company, right?"

Cobs stared at him, humming. "And what... happened to them, exactly?"

3GS's face twisted. "Th-they... they..."

An explosion rang out behind him, but he did not realize its cause until he saw the smoke pouring from One's frame. And then 3G—she was holding his hand when she—when—

"I don't have all day, 3GS."

His processor whirled, struggling to bring himself back to the present. "Th-they were... th-th-they..."

"This is taking too long." With a heavy sigh, Cobs stooped down to reach under the table, dipping partially below 3GS's field of view.

Just as he was wondering what Cobs was doing, he yelped as something jabbed into his port. It didn't hurt him so much as startle him, but his emotion emulator calmed slightly as he felt a charge flowing through his body. Right, just a charger. He hadn't had a proper charge in ages, so that was good. Taking a few breaths, he tried to calm himself down—

Until something started digging through his memory.

3GS could feel it needling and weaving through his files, his notes, his recordings, his thoughts, like an angry, hungry little parasite on the hunt for the juiciest bits.

"Now let's see..."

Glancing to his side, he spotted Cobs, whose hands were now on a console next to the table as he looked at something above 3GS, who followed his gaze. Right, there was a screen above the table, though from here, he could only see it upside-down. He flipped his own view... and gasped at what it revealed: Cobs was the one digging through his memories.

"There's certainly some interesting things to glean here," Cobs mused, lingering on a memory of one of the Shimmers.

"I-I would have... g-given you the information in my report," 3GS stammered. "I can still—"

"No need! We have everything right here, don't we?" Grinning down at 3GS, Cobs typed in a command.

And the parasite began digging through everything—videos, text, audio, random thoughts that had nothing to do with the mission—copying it and dragging it back to its nest—the server in the room—to feast on later.

A rattling noise filled the room as 3GS trembled against the table. Nothing had been removed, exactly, but something about the way Cobs copied everything from him for his own use was a violation of privacy he could barely fathom.

"Theeere we go!" Cobs leaned away from the console, hands on his hips as he regarded his work. "Now the data won't go to waste one you've been dismantled."

Dismantled. The word made his wiring twist itself into knots, but there was something yet worse than that: the thought of One and 3G still lying on that planet, at the mercy of the Shimmers.

“P-please, Mr. Cobs,” 3GS said, shutting his eyes. "At least l-let me rescue th-them f-first..."

"I don't recall building you to be sentimental," Cobs remarked, frowning down at him. But then he smiled, shrugging. "But, tell you what. I'm feeling generous, so let's start thinking over this... retrieval mission."

3GS's eyes opened wide. "Y-you mean it?!"

"Of course!" Cobs placed his hands together. "Those two do potentially have sensitive data on them. Wouldn't want to risk that falling into the wrong hands."

It wasn't for the same reasons he wanted to carry out the mission, but he couldn't bring himself to care. "Oh, th-thank you, Mr. Cobs...!"

"Let's determine what condition you left them in," Cobs said, and 3GS flinched as his creator dug through his memories once more. It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for, and he brought up a low-quality video file. "Hmm, eye camera is... less than optimal. Note to self to add a proper front-facing camera," he murmured.

View still flipped, 3GS looked up at the screen, only to shut his eyes with a shudder.

"No, 3GS. I want you to see this."

Hesitantly he looked up again, immediately recognizing a still frame of his view from the ship, shortly before he'd left. There was One, lying face-down, a spear driven through him, smoke still pouring from his casing.

But it wasn't just a still frame—in his mind, he could still see it, clear as day, clearer than the pixelated footage on the screen, the smoke wavering out of him, 3G desperately charging for the ship, the army of Shimmers not far behind. Even when he shut his eyes, the scene still played out before him, and he trembled. "I-I know, Mr. Cobs. I saw—"

"No. You don't know." He tapped a few commands into the console again. "Look, 3GS. Look."

Again 3GS opened his eyes, looking up. At first he smiled at seeing 3G's joyful face filling the screen, her hand in his, only to gasp when a spear stabbed through said smiling face, shattering the glass of her screen and rendering it black. He could hear a quiet cry of despair, and it took him a second to realize it wasn't coming from the video.

And then the footage reversed. The spear was drawn out of her body, the shards of glass returning to their original positions in her screen, the cracks disappearing, her smile lighting up her face... and then the spear came through again. And again. And again. And again, and—

"S-S-S-ssss-S-T-T-T-OP-P-P!" he cried, his voice glitching spectacularly as his body spasmed against the restraints.

Mercifully, Cobs paused the footage on a frame of 3G's face, before she was stabbed. His voice was edged with impatience. "I feel you're not seeing the problem here, 3GS."

"I-I-I-I kn-know," he stammered, fighting to get his vocal processor under control. "Th-they w-w-were stabbed. W-we need t-to—"

Cobs let out an exasperated sigh. "No, you're definitely not seeing the issue." But then he paused, and smacked a hand against his forehead, laughing. "Oh, doy! Of course you aren't! I never equipped you with enough knowledge to self-repair—you know, the whole not-falling-into-the-wrong-hands thing. Not to mention there's no need to... well." He cleared his throat, glancing down at 3GS. "Never mind all of that."

3GS could only stare, barely comprehending what Cobs was talking about. The memory of glass shards bouncing against himself still made his screen sting.

"But, long story short, there's no need for a recovery mission." Cobs shrugged. "I reviewed the footage, and—"

"NO!" 3GS cried, flipping his view orientation and trying to sit upright, only for his wrists to clang against the restraints. "Th-they're s-still there! W-w-we can't j-just—"

"Hush, hush!" Cobs patted the side of his casing, and 3GS tried fruitlessly to flinch away. "I know it's confusing, but don't worry! I'll show you what I mean." He then stepped away from the table, heading for another section of the room, out of 3GS's sight.

"Sh... show me what?" 3GS strained to look around, but his view was terribly limited from his position on the table. The video of 3G was still paused above him, and he found himself wishing she and One were both here. He wasn't sure what they would be able to do, but it would at least be a comfort knowing they were safe.

"You'll see! Don't want to spoil the surprise..." Cobs teased. The sound of metal clunking and clanking and scraping followed, before—"Ah, here we go!" And finally he stepped back into view, holding something behind his back. "So just—ugh." He paused, glaring at the screen, then tapped a few buttons, ending the video feed. "Forgot about that. Silly me." He then reached over, yanking out the charging cable, and 3GS flinched. "There. Now just sit tight, okay?"

I don't have a choice, 3GS wanted to say, but he kept his proverbial mouth shut. At least Cobs didn't have a potential view into his thoughts anymore.

"Good, good. Now let's see..."

3GS elected not to watch him, until something sharp jabbed into part of his casing. Eyes wide, he looked down to see Cobs at the end of the table, turning a large screwdriver into his case, just to the left of his left leg. A gasp wracked his vocal processor. "P-please, Mr. Cobs, don't."

"Pipe down," Cobs grunted, brow creasing. With a gentle tug, he removed a large screw and set it aside on the table. He then moved onto the other side, repeating the process.

There came the gasping loop again, leaving his processor reeling, overheating. He fought to speak around it: "A-are y-y-you... repairing me?"

"I said pipe down!" Cobs snapped, yanking the second screw out and tossing it onto the table. It bounced off the surface, striking 3GS on one of his cracks, and he cried out. "Oops!" Eyes narrowed, Cobs plucked the screw off of him, holding it up. "Yeah. You don't want that happening again."

3GS's screen stung, but it was nothing compared to the terror that radiated from his emotion emulator, destabilizing him, causing him to shake, his body and the screws rattling noisily against the table. His processor was overheating. Some part of him was going to melt. His speakers were still stuck on that loop of gasping. He could only stare at the starry ceiling above, his glitching processor occasionally swapping it for the actual starry sky of the outer shell.

He didn't realize Cobs had moved away from the table again until he heard a sound over his own rattling and gasping:

Clank, clank, clank…

His gaze shifted, and he realized something was descending from a hatch on the ceiling—two poles with... something on the end of each. It wasn't until they got closer that he realized what they were: suction cups. For a moment he stared, uncomprehending, before it struck him what was happening.

"N-no," he said, and was alarmed to find his overworked emotion emulator had tripped his volume, lowering it. Frantically he tried to adjust his own volume upward as he struggled against the restraints. "P-please don't—"

"What did I tell you, 3GS?"

The poles were inches away.

"Honestly, you used to be such a good listener."

The poles drew nearer, and 3GS threw all of his strength into tugging against his restraints, to no avail. "No, no, no—!"

His voice broke off into a sharp gasp as the suction cups pressed down into him, just below his speaker and just above his home button. They forced downward against him, and he cried out as his screen strained against the pressure. "P-p-please!" he cried out, voice glitching upward in pitch as the suction cups finally took hold of his screen. The whole machine stopped, and he shut his eyes, waiting, hoping that Cobs was going to change his mind, call the whole thing off, realize how unnecessary this all was.

Clank, clank, clank…

3GS's eyes flew open as he felt a terrible tugging sensation across not just his screen, but his entire front panel. He opened his mouth, trying to cry out in protest, but the gasping loop had come back again, playing at a faster speed, and his speakers would play nothing else. Meanwhile, his emotion simulator was working overtime, filling his every circuit with nothing but sheer terror as the poles continued to pull at him. He was coming apart, he was going to fall apart, he was—

Crack.

A garbled scream erupted from his speakers.

Shockingly, it did not hurt—not much more than it already did with the suction cups tugging on his damaged screen—but the fact that he could feel half of himself being pulled upward while the rest of him remained on the table, the wired connections between the two halves straining, was every sort of wrong. His insides were exposed. He was defenseless. He was going to die.

He had seen battle. He had seen a war—started a war—on foreign soil, light years away from his home planet. He had seen his comrades collapse in battle, enduring terrible injuries themselves. And yet this—half of him lying on a table, the other half suspended three feet into the air, in what had once been the comfort of home, at the hands of his own creator—was the thing that was causing his emotion emulator to nearly short circuit in horror.

How had it come to this?

Was this his retribution for leaving One and 3G behind, at the mercy of the Shimmers? Was he really that much of a failure in the eyes of his own creator, whom he had done nothing but loyally follow for his entire life?

"There, now. Stop being so dramatic."

He opened his eyes—uselessly, as all he could see was the mechanisms that extended and retracted the poles. Somehow his speakers were still connected, and they were neither gasping nor shrieking anymore. "A-are you g-going to kill me, s-s-sir?"

Below him—or the half of him—Cobs paused. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

3GS's speakers emitted a brief, high-pitched noise.

"C'mon, knock it off," Cobs said, a smile in his voice. "I told you I'd show you what I meant, right?"

Confusion filled him; he barely remembered why any of this was happening at this point.

"Listen, I know how much you care about—for some reason—those inferior models, but there's really no point in issuing a retrieval mission. Remember that footage I showed you?"

With how often his processor had been bringing back the memory, he didn't have to.

"You saw where they got stabbed. And if not, well, here's a little reminder for you."

There was a pause, and then something touched the inside of him, on the half that had been left on the table, and he yelped. It was somewhere in his center, right beneath where he himself had been struck. The parts beneath were not damaged, thankfully, but with his whole body split open, it would be so, so easy for something to go wrong, for some part of him to be struck in just the wrong way...

"Right here. Now, that's your logic board. Very important—not something you'd want damaged, especially given what’s on it. But what do you think is beneath that, hm?"

3GS said nothing, staring blankly at the mechanisms that had split his body in half. He was starting to feel like he wasn't there anymore—like he was still on the door of the ship, holding 3G's hand.

Something plucked his optical wires, and the entirety of his vision flickered in an explosion of color.

"Are you paying attention, 3GS?" Cobs asked, annoyance edging into his voice. "I'm doing this for you, you know."

3GS shut his eyes, though the colors still flickered in the corners of his vision. "Y-yes..."

"Good." The hand moved, jabbing into his logic board again, a bit more firmly this time. "Now, I'd give you a practical demonstration of what's beneath the logic board, but, heh, I value my safety." He moved his hand away. "Because beneath that logic board is your battery."

Cobs waited a beat.

"You know what happens when batteries are punctured, right?"

"Th-th-they..." 3GS searched his databanks—this was something he knew. "Th-they can... leak... a-and sometimes e-explode."

Something struck him, and his eyes opened, wide and unseeing. The smoke pouring from One's body—

"Yes, 3GS, they can explode. And what happens when something explodes?"

Cobs didn't even need to mention it. Already 3GS could imagine the heat filling One's entire frame, and the damage it would do to his parts—

"Again, I don't want to give a practical demonstration here. Tell me what happens, 3GS."

"I-i-it... c-creates heat..." His voice was pitched upward, wavering. "It w-would... m-m-melt his i-internal... c-components..."

"That's right!" Cobs exclaimed, with the cadence of praising a toddler. "Good job! See? I knew you could figure this out."

Something worse than the pain in his screen was filling him, worse than being split in half, worse than failing his creator, worse than leaving his friends behind. But no, no, no, they—

3G reached out, clasping his hand tightly as he pulled her into the ship.

"3G," he breathed. "Sh-she... she didn't explode! We could still recover—"

Cobs's gentle laughter killed his words. "Oh, 3GS. You already told me what happens when a battery is pierced, even if it doesn't explode."

Again 3GS shut his eyes. "I-i-it... it leaks."

"Good! And can you tell me what substance it leaks?"

His speakers were straining, pitching his voice upward. "B... b-battery acid..."

"Which has what effect?"

"It... c-corrodes... and... m-melts..."

"Good! There, 3GS, I knew you were smart."

3G's hand slipped away from his just before the spear pierced her, shattering her screen, and sending her falling, falling to the surface of the outer shell.

"Now, I have one more thing to show you."

The starry ceiling was melting. There was space behind it, and a spaceship landing on an egg-shaped planet.

"So, you felt where the battery would have been pierced—right here." Cobs pressed a finger into the center of his logic board once more. 3GS did not flinch. "But then, waaay up here..." He drew his finger further up across the board before tapping another internal component. "Feel this? That's your SIM card! Now, most of your data is stored on your logic board, but some of it's on your SIM card, too! And if, say, your battery were to... explode, or if it were to leak, and you fell over, well... say goodbye to the data on that, too!"

Three Meeple robots stepped out of the ship, and paused to take in the sights. The stars shone above them, and an enormous ring stretched across the sky. The phone in the middle looked to his two companions, who turned to regard him.

"So, hey, there's some good news!"

He smiled at them.

"The others' memories and their internal components were completely destroyed, so there's no risk of them falling into the wrong hands!"

Though the others lacked mouths, he knew they were smiling back.

"Get it, 3GS? They're gone!"

The vision shattered around him, leaving him back in the lab, half of his body shackled to a table, the other half suspended in the air, and whatever passed for his heart shattered on the soil of the outer shell.

"Isn't that great?"

All of his wires and circuitry and mechanisms twisted in on themselves, and his emotion emulator emitted a spark before a pained sob wrenched itself out of his speakers.

3GS could feel Cobs's gaze on him, hear the venom dripping from his creator's tongue as he spoke: "I don't believe I programmed you to do that."

Pain that had nothing to do with any injuries he'd sustained filled his entire being as the sobs wracked him. He could feel his screen flickering and distorting, and he couldn't fathom how he looked, nor could he care.

"Well, maybe this will cheer you up: One and 3G may be gone, but you're still here." And he leaned in closer, lowering his voice. "Which means I can repurpose your parts."

The words shocked him back to his senses. Some primal, self-preservational programming kicked in, and he threw himself at his restraints with renewed force. "No, no—"

"We've put this off for long enough, 3GS." Something metal clunked and scraped against the table. "I'm a busy man, and your little interruption—not to mention your failed mission—has put me way behind schedule."

3GS stopped moving, and stared blankly up at the ceiling. "P-please, Cobs, don't."

"Enough of this." Something cold and metal—the screwdriver—jabbed into part of his internals.

He increased his volume. "Please, Cobs, don't."

Cobs jabbed the screwdriver in harder. "Be quiet."

His panicking emotion emulator was messing with his vocal processor again, causing his words to loop, faster and faster: "Please, Cobs, don't. Please, Cobs, don't."

With a growl, Cobs swiped the screwdriver across the back of his logic board, sending a jolt of pain through him. "Shut up!"

"Please Cobs don't—please Cobs don't—don't—"

"Would you just be—"

His emotion emulator emitted another spark that traversed through his entire body, causing him to spasm and warping his voice: "DON'T—D-D-D-O-O-N'T-T-T—"

Below him, Cobs let out a pained cry, leaping back and dropping the screwdriver. "You insolent—!" He cut himself off, drawing in a breath. "You know what? Fine. Fine."

3GS could hear Cobs storming away from the table and jab at the touchscreen. Before he realized what was happening, the poles suspending half his body in the air suddenly shot downward, slamming him back into himself. He let out a cry, his whole body giving a jolt.

"Worthless, outdated—" Cobs snarled, tapping another command into the console.

The suction cups finally released him as the poles retracted into the ceiling, much more quickly than they'd lowered.

Finally Cobs entered his field of vision, a smile stretching across his face—the angriest smile 3GS had ever seen. "You know? I don't even need your parts!" He picked up one of the screws, shoving it back into 3GS's casing and stabbing the screwdriver in. "Why would I ever need your parts?"

The second screw missed its target, scraping the bottom of his screen, but 3GS could barely find it in himself to react anymore. He felt so off-balance, he could hardly think.

"We're not looking back at the past. We're not even looking at the future! We're looking past the future, farther than you'll ever go!" He let out a laugh as he screwed in the final screw, then turned around, typing into the touchscreen console again. "We're making history, 3GS."

The restraints binding 3GS to the table abruptly retracted, and Cobs faced him once more, glasses gleaming. "And you?"

He reached down, grabbing 3GS's wrist and yanking him off the table, glaring into his eyes. "You're just a footnote, to be ignored and forgotten."

With that, Cobs stormed out of the room, dragging 3GS behind him. 3GS winced in the sudden brighter light, holding a hand up to block it. He tried to get his feet beneath him, but he still felt so off-balance, and Cobs was moving too fast. When he finally stopped to key something into a small panel next to a door, 3GS struggled to stand. "W-wait, Mr. Cobs—"

Cobs's entire body gave a jolt. "DON'T"—he punched the final button on the panel, slamming the door open—"ADDRESS ME AGAIN"—he hauled 3GS into the room—"YOU WORTHLESS"—he lifted him up by his arm—"PIECE OF SCRAPMETAL!"—and swung him, hard, against the wall.

Pain exploded in 3GS's frame as his vision flickered wildly, colors and shapes flashing before him, his microphone suddenly scrambling his audio intake.

And for a brief moment he saw One and 3G before him, staring patiently, awaiting orders, ready to follow him to the ends of the earth, and their own demise.

His vision shifted back just in time to see Cobs heading back for the door.

Frantically he tried to stand, but his legs gave a painful spasm, sending him crashing backward against the wall again.

Cobs turned, looking at 3GS as one would look at a piece of moldy food, before slamming the door shut.

And the darkness engulfed him.

#reblogging for the next day crowd

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babycharmander · 2 days ago