Chapter Text
„Where the hell is that big lug? How can you lose a 15 feet tall cathode?!“ Spamton ranted to himself, sauntering along the many winding corridors of the studio in search of his business partner.
Despite the frantic shotcalling from Lanino and Elnina for different darkners to search the corners of the studio, they‘d all returned without their boss in tow and no good news to share. They were starting to sound frantic, Spamton noted, no doubt crying hysterically as they tended to do when everything became just a little too much to handle.
They really irritated him sometimes.
Tenna had been suspiciously absent the entire day and everyone was starting to get concerned, including Spamton himself; Even if he would never admit it out loud. Shows had to somehow run without him, the large place seemed almost eerily quiet without Tenna‘s shotcalling and larger than life stature and attitude.
What a joke, Spamton thought to himself, quickly lighting one of his cigars as he walked. There was no need to freak out. Obviously the big guy was fine! He had to be! After all, Tenna was no ordinary darkner, that idiot box was tough as nails! There was no one in TV world that could even hope to measure up to him!
‚The Lord of Screens cleaved Red by blade‘
A full body shudder wracked Spamton, the hairs at the back of his neck standing up. A part of him still hadn’t fully accepted the words that forcefully wormed their way into his very core like a pesky parasite. A shaky drag from his cigar and he turned a corner to search another room for Tenna.
There was… it couldn’t be Tenna, right? Spamton could think of many things to describe Tenna as, a CRT, idiot box, family man, business partner, drinking buddy, friend, best fling of his life… maybe something else that Spamton refused to put a name to. But a lord? That was laughable. There was nothing lordly about Tenna!
If anything, his big guy was almost childish, relishing in the simple joys of playing games, cracking awful jokes and spending quality time with his loved ones. Naive too, in his own right, like someone that could never see the world beyond their own four walls. It was endearing and described Tenna to a T.
He didn’t know any better.
For the longest while, Spamton had taken advantage of it, slithered his way into Tenna‘s inner circle like the rat he was often called by everyone else in cyber city. And once he had that position of trust, it‘d been so easy to insert himself even more, spend more and more time with the CRT until he became an invaluable member of the crew; someone Tenna simply couldn’t live without anymore.
And all he would’ve needed to do was stay on the ride, keep leeching off Tenna, take everything he had to offer and then simply eject once he found a better opportunity. Move onto greener pastures without as much as sparing a glance back.
…
Yet another empty room. No sign of Tenna. Why was he starting to get nervous?
Maybe Spamton was also naive, for thinking he wouldn‘t get attached. For even considering he could leave when things had been going so well with Tenna.
His pace quickened, no longer caring about anyone seeing him in any other light than the cool and collected businessman.
He just needed to find Tenna. Right now.
Make sure everything was okay, that his stupid CRT simply forgot the time, took a nap somewhere and slept through his alarm. Or maybe he was just being glooby, shrunk down until he was so small that even Spamton could hold him in his hands and hide in some quiet corner to escape it all. Yeah, that had to be it, he was just being glooby! Not hurt somewhere, not cleaved red by blade and dying alone, he couldn’t lose him yet.
No, Tenna was just… sad. And what did he do when he was down in the dumps?
…Probably look for Spamton. Curl up against him, looking for words of affection, promises to stay and kisses from him.
Spamton turned on his heel, nearly knocking over a Pippins on his mad dash towards his own changing room. Why hadn’t he even considered it? Of course Tenna would seek him out, hide away in Spamton‘s dressing room until he returned!
What was he even nervous about? There was no saying that Tenna was actually the lord of screens! Just because he had a screen for a face that he used to project his dopey expressions on didn’t make him a lord! There was simply no way this stupid prophecy was talking about Tenna.
Yet, somehow, deep within his code, he already knew that it was Tenna. It always was. Spamton was desperately lying to himself because he couldn’t accept that their limited time was running out.
Someday. Someday he‘d lose him. But not today. He refused.
The trek towards his dressing room felt like it took years, his heart nearly leaping out of his chest once he saw the familiar doors come into view. Finally! Tenna had to be in there, he simply had to be. He wasn’t even sure what exactly the implications would be if he weren‘t or if he was even ready to face that potential reality.
But he didn’t have to, of course! He wouldn’t! Tenna would be right here, where Spamton knew he‘d be. Because he knew his big lug of a showhost! Better than anyone else in fact. Tenna was here, curled up somewhere and waiting just for Spamton.
Because that had been Spamton‘s plan from the very beginning, getting Tenna to rely on him to the degree of dependency. Of course, he hadn’t accounted for the added complication that he too would grow reliant on the TV.
„Ant!“ Spamton burst through the doors, trying his damndest to look as casual as possible. Running a hand through his greasy hair, smarmy grin returning to his face and taking a long drag from his cigar to calm his unjustified nerves. „Jeez, big guy, you worked everyone up into quite a frenzy! Everyone‘s been looking all over the studio for you! Good luck explaining to them why you’ve been gone so long!“
After all, Spamton knew his partner. His business partner, that is. He‘d known he‘d be here, right as rain and merely in need of a little pep talk and some TLC.
Easy. So easy. There was no need to be worried. So why was he feeling so sick to his stomach? Why was there just this overwhelming feeling of wrongness crashing down on him?
The second he took in the room, he wished he would’ve never come in, kept looking for Tenna in blissful ignorance, thinking that nothing had been wrong.
Everything was wrong. Everything was falling apart at the seams and Spamton couldn’t possibly force it all back together into something coherent, something that made sense to look at without ripping his rapidly beating heart into a million different directions.
The phone. The receiver limply dangled from the cord, swaying slightly from the leftover motion of suddenly having been dropped while the constant shrill beep that signified no one was on the other end of the line was ringing in his ears. To him, it seemed so much louder than it actually was, fear finally fully rushing into him.
Someone took a call. Someone that wasn‘t him.
…Tenna picked up the phone.
A hand dug into Spamton‘s chest, a spike of fear going through his heart as nails dug into the material of his red suit. Oh god, no, why did Tenna take a call?! It could’ve been anyone, but of course it had to be Tenna!
He‘d told that stupid cathode nearly every day that he could, under no circumstances, ever accept any calls! Never! He didn’t want Tenna burdened with the knowledge Spamton was cursed with. Or for Tenna to be put at risk, to catch the ire of his mysterious benefactor or, worse, for his benefactor to start manipulating Tenna and turn him against Spamton.
Okay. Okay, it was serious. Fuck. This was bad, so very bad. It was super serious, Tenna wasn‘t fine. Tenna needed more than just a pep talk and some TLC. Whatever he had heard on the other end of the line must’ve done something to him.
Spamton could only pray that he would be able to find him and fix it before it was too late. His breathing was heaved, his chest hurting and eyes burning; not even realizing the way his hands were frantically tugging at his black hair. Before that, he hadn’t allowed the feeling to linger, always snuffing it out before it had the chance to fester, before he could consider how deeply he‘d already fallen into the hole he swore himself he would stay far away from.
He was scared. Scared to lose Tenna. He couldn’t lose him, he had to get out there and find him before it was too late.
With a shaking hand, he properly hung up the phone, finally letting the noise fizzle out and only leaving Spamton with his own rapid breathing.
He nearly tripped out the door with how fast he sprinted, uncaring that he practically barreled over Lanino and Elnina, who had the same idea of looking in Spamton‘s room just a few minutes too late. Everything was blurring together, the hallways didn’t make any sense, but there was something strange he felt. Something faint, pulling him along?
It almost sounded like Tenna, lilting, soft but also commanding. Something asking him to;
‘Come out here and witness me.’
No, it didn’t sound like Tenna at all, Spamton realized with a shake of his head. Whatever was luring him, softly singing and beckoning him closer, pulling at invisible strings, only had his voice. Tenna would never sound like that.
The inherent wrongness of it all made him run even faster, tripping over his own feet and not even wasting a single thought on how it might’ve looked to any employees. They didn’t matter, nothing else but correcting this nightmare mattered.
He allowed himself to be dragged along, by the invisible force, the voice, the lure of it all equally as enticing as it was terrifying. At some point, he had thrown open the doors, snow pelting him in the face and crunching beneath his fancy dress shoes.
It was louder here, just a little further, at the very edge of it all, Tenna would be there. He had to be.
Spamton‘s steps slowed to an exhausted walk, then only a last few desperate steps before he finally stopped. It hadn’t been a conscious decision, but the sight in front of him was enough for all the feeling to leave his body and root him in place.
He stared, eyes wide and horrified, hands twitching restlessly as if there was realistically something he could do to fix this, to fix him. The churning of his guts was painful, but didn’t even come close to the ache in his heart when he beheld Tenna.
Spamton‘s oh so beloved business partner was sitting in the snow, body only slightly hunched to indicate he was conscious. His cracked screen was turned off and arms hanging loose as if they weren‘t his own. The suit he usually took so much pride in wearing was ripped up from the cables and green string growing all along his body like it was nothing more than pesky ivy.
A horrible shiver wracked through Spamton once he realized that the thread, the strings… they were growing into Tenna, into his chest compartment, into the cracks of his screen, into his joints and every little crevice. Tenna‘s entire left arm was already covered in cables and string; and his chest compartment was close behind, Spamton could actively see the green thread pry it open to worm its way inside. Tenna‘s hands were vanishing in the snow, like they were being dragged down.
It was spreading, and fast, he could actually hear the creaking of Tenna’s metal body as it fought against the forceful intrusion. But Tenna himself didn’t even move, he just let it happen, let this awful… thing mutilate him like that. Despite his tensing and convulsing body, the pain he must feel, he simply sat there and took it. Strange, fizzling liquid was pooling all around him, the slow color shift giving the snow and ethereal, rainbow gleam and making it almost look unreal.
And Tenna was still so big, a hulking giant among the snow, even while seated.
Why was Tenna still so big!? He always shrank when he was in pain, he could barely even control it with how much his emotions sometimes fluctuated. So why was he still towering over everyone, even when he was sitting?
Wait, was he even larger than usual? But that only happened when he was extremely happy or angry…
Fuck, Spamton wished it wasn‘t real. It made him feel sick to his stomach, slamming a hand over his own mouth at the horrifying sight. What he would give to forget this, for him to wake up right now on the couch in his dressing room to Tenna trying to gently shake him awake. And when Tenna would notice his shaking, he wouldn‘t exploit that weakness like anyone else might’ve done, no, he would’ve scooped Spamton up into a hug, assured him, told him it was just a nightmare, he was right here and everything was okay.
Because Tenna cared about him just as much as Spamton did for him.
…
It didn‘t happen.
This wasn’t a dream.
Spamton heaved, the full horror finally washing over him. He had to get someone, get the rest of the crew to get that parasitic string off him and get him back inside. Let him warm up with Lanino‘s help and let him rest up until Tenna was back to his radiant self.
With a whir of static, Tenna‘s screen turned on, his head perking up slightly once he realized that someone was there. The top half of his screen was cracked and completely busted from those goddamn strings, but the bottom half was still somewhat functional. There was some blooming that warped his features, but it was still recognizable.
Spamton didn’t like the bright smile grinning down at him. It was enough to make him take a step back, only to petrify in fear once he heard the words leaving Tenna‘s mouth.
His voice, it was all wrong, a distorted multitonal lilt that sounded like several different people were whispering at once. Some spoke comfortingly, some humming, some singing. One of those voices sounded like the Tenna Spamton knew, but no matter how desperately Spamton tried to focus on it, it was drowned out and blending in with all the other voices.
„Heeeeeeeeelloooooo? Is someoneeeee thereeeereee?~“
Spamton felt the blood in his body grow cold. It wasn’t enough that he had to see Tenna in such a state, no, now whatever is doing this to him is making him talk in that unnerving, wrong voice.
Was this a punishment from his benefactor for not following orders well enough? Did they somehow find out what would hurt Spamton most and somehow made it a reality?
When Spamton didn’t move, that awful voice spoke through Tenna again, slowly singing along: „Dooooooooooon‘t be a straaaaaaaanger [stranger]. Please, come cloooooose [closer] and witness me.“
Spamton felt like he was being dragged again, his steps heavier the closer he was getting to Tenna. He didn’t want to look anymore, he wanted nothing more than to finally wake up. Please just let him wake up, let it all just be a nightmare.
„Weeelcooome~“ Tenna smiled at him so brightly, still so giant despite everything. Seeing him happy to be in such a state made it almost worse for Spamton. „Do you liiiiike it?“
„A-Ant…“ Spamton‘s voice cracked, barely able to handle the wave of emotions washing over him. No, he had to stop this, he couldn’t let this go on. He had to save Tenna from whatever was doing this to him. Whoever.
„D-don’t worry, Ant!“ Small hands began to claw at the cables and strings growing into Tenna, pulling with all his might in an attempt to get them to stop, to release his partner. „You‘re- you‘re just- just a little out of it! Nothing that your good ole buddy Spamton can‘t give you a hand with!“
When the strings didn‘t let up, Spamton pulled and clawed more desperately, even ignoring the rumble from below him as Tenna was further pulled down into the ground. They just kept on growing, he realized, no matter how much he managed to tear off, it just grew back somewhere else. But he couldn’t get anyone else to help and risk leaving Tenna alone in his current state. Who knew what would happen.
„I can help you! I can fix this!“ The more he talked, the more unhinged he sounded, perfectly aware that he was attempting an impossible task, but still refusing to let up. Giving up would also mean giving up Tenna, and he was just not ready for that. He wasn’t supposed to lose Tenna like this, not this early…
He just needed more time.
„Come on- I- I can fix this, then we can- we- we go back inside and- and forget all of this even happened! You’ll feel better in no time! We‘re gonna- we can- we‘ll eat something nice, maybe I’ll take you out to that- that- that place you‘ve been asking to go to! Have a real date night!“
Spamton had been putting it off, having been too engrossed in his work and aspirations on becoming a big shot while not feeling sentimental enough to make more time than necessary for Tenna. Now though? He certainly was feeling sentimental, underneath all the primal fear and concern tearing him up from the inside.
„We‘ll- we‘ll raid Ramb‘s bar for all the good shit it has, we don’t even gotta go home! We‘re big shots, we can do whatever we want! We can just stay, I’ll enjoy the hell out of you, treat you so good, and then we can sleep on the couch together! You won’t even think about whatever you heard on that phone! You love when we cuddle, right? When we spend nights together? And kiss? We can, as much as you want! You just- you just gotta get better. And help me, I- I can’t get the strings off!“ Were his words even making any sense? He could barely hear himself over the loud ringing in his ears. All he knew was that it came from the heart.
there was a flicker on Tenna’s screen, the light enough to temporarily distract Spamton from his mission.
„Spammy [little bird]…~“ Tenna sang, leaning closer to him. That… almost sounded like how Tenna would talk, that soft fondness whenever he would address Spamton with that nickname. It almost made him want to lean closer, bask in the glow of Tenna’s screen and forget this nightmare. But right after, Tenna‘s voice got drowned out by the whispers again, sounding wrong all over again. „You‘re heeeeereee~“
Spamton clutched tightly at the strings, clawing so forcefully into it that it hurt his own hands. „Yes! Yes, Ant, it‘s me! You‘re okay, you’re gonna be okay. I’ll get you outta this! I told you to not pick up the phone but- but it’s okay, I forgive you. I‘ll forgive you, you just gotta snap out of it.“ He bit back the ‚please‘ that threatened to spill out, just now realizing how desperate and pitiful he sounded.
Another low rumble from the very earth itself. And once again, Tenna was pulled a little more into the soil, beneath the snow. Of his legs, only his bent knees and the top of his thighs were still visible, the rest were already buried.
„Spaaaammyyy [little bird]…“ Hearing that nickname come out of Tenna with that wrong voice made goosebumps prickle all over him unpleasantly. The whispering of voices calling him a little bird along with that nickname certainly didnt help with the pit of dread that was forming within him. His eyes screwed shut, stopping his frantic attempts at freeing Tenna to just get over it for a moment. „Do youuu think I’m…. Beautiful [bountiful]?~“
What kinda question was that, in a situation like this nonetheless?! Spamton huffed, his forced grin splintering and turning into a sneer, „I‘ll flirt with ya as much as ya want once I’ve gotten you outta here, alright? Just hang on tight.“
„Say it.“
Another shiver at the voices forming a choir at the command. Spamton risked a glance up at Tenna‘s screen, who was still grinning down at him. He looked strange without his nose poking out… without his energetic voice, without the warmth radiating off him.
Tenna was right in front of him, he‘d just seen him yesterday too, yet he missed him terribly. Not this mutilated version of him, wrapped in strings and wire and spoken through like a makeshift marionette. The real Tenna. His Tenna.
„…No.“ the Response made Tenna freeze, suddenly eerily quiet. „I don’t think you‘re beautiful. Not right now, at least. This isn’t you…“ And it was true. Tenna wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was meant to be larger than life, the center of every room he walked in. Even if Tenna‘s quirks, his unstable emotions and tendency to annoy Spamton had irritated him initially, he quickly realized the ice cold terror running down his back at the thought of losing it forever. Losing him forever.
„HA HA HA HA HA HA HA [ hahahahahaha]” Tenna threw his head back, howling in horrific, distorted laughter that made the hairs on Spamton‘s neck stand up and eyes screw shut. The CRT squirmed in his position, only getting pulled deeper into the ground by these god forsaken wires Spamton couldn‘t get off his business partner. Wrong, this was all wrong, when did it all get so fucking wrong?! When did Spamton lose all control of the situation, why was the one moment he had to lose control the exact moment he might also lose Tenna?!
„Oh…~“ Tenna‘s laughter quieted into a gentle hum. Something wet dripped onto Spamton‘s head, who just now realized that Tenna was crying. Droplets running down his usually pristine screen, following the cracks before finally landing in his lap. „Youuuur words are soooo hurtful [heartful]… your Wooords say no but your heart says yeeees. I can see the truth [inside].“ he chuckled again, leaning closer in an attempt to nuzzle his shattered screen against Spamton, „It‘s okayyy [not okay]. I‘ll wait until you caaaan say it [SAY IT].“
Instead of leaning into the affection, Spamton reached out to grasp Tenna‘s monitor. More like claw at it with the way his nails dug into the plastic, but he did not possess the mental capacity to be gentle with Tenna in his current state. „Ant, please-” the word felt foreign on his tongue, but it didn’t matter. He had to somehow get through to him, past the strings, „Ant, listen to me, and listen good. This ain’t you, something’s messing with your head and you- you gotta snap out of it. I’m right here, I won’t leave you. But I need your help…“
He willed his hand to relax, ever so slightly to caress the non-broken glass of Tenna‘s screen. The part the strings didn’t grow into, the part he could look at and almost imagine that Tenna was fine and nothing was happening. He‘d kissed that fanged mouth so many times, but he‘d never seen this eerie smile on it before.
„Hmmm~“ A gentle hum came from Tenna, who tilted his head left and right. Another deep rumble from the earth and Samton lost more of Tenna‘s body to the snow. Why were these goddamn wires even pulling him down?! „Too small…“
„Huh?“ Spamton was so caught off guard that he let go of Tenna‘s screen. A part of him wanted to get offended and huffy about Tenna calling him too small, but he knew better. Now wasn’t the time. „What the hell do you mean?“
„Iiiiiiii‘m… too small…~“ Tenna sang in return, getting pulled down a little further.
Tenna… was too small? That didn’t make any sense, that TV had to be the largest darkner in all the worlds, how could he be too small? „What are you talking about?“ Spamton inquired.
„I can feel it… growing [taking over] inside me~“ By now Tenna was buried to the waist and it was only getting worse. Nothing Spamton had attempted to get rid of the strings had worked and he felt his trembling body failing him as desperation began to set in.
There was nothing he could do.
„I’m just… too small for this body [world].“ Even Tenna‘s voice was getting quieter, was exhaustion taking hold of him too? But he still wore that unnerving smile, indicating that he would not be snapping out of whatever had taken hold of him. „I can feel it. It‘s… reaching out to me [pulling me under].“
Tenna let out a small laugh, now only his head was still sticking out of the snow. It was bizarre, the image of his distorted smile flickering constantly while Spamton couldn’t stop thinking just how much it looked like some random old TV that someone had thrown outside instead of that being Tenna.
„The phone, it hurt so comfortably [comfortingly].“ Tenna whispered, sounding almost at peace now.
Spamton still found himself holding on to the casing, to Tenna‘s head, simply refusing to let him go until he no longer had a choice. What was this…? What was happening to Tenna, what had Spamton‘s mysterious benefactor done to him for this to happen? It felt like something was burning in the back of his throat, it might’ve been the first time he ever felt hatred towards the very thing that brought him to the top in the first place. Just for doing something to Tenna, to one of the only people that mattered to Spamton.
He felt his shoulders shaking and his vision blurring, but he refused to let any tears fall. „Ant…“ Spamton‘s voice was nothing but a whisper, so many things he wanted to say but knew he never could laying heavy on his heart. Was he really losing him already?
„Spammy [little bird]…~“ Tenna still smiled at him, even if he could no longer move. Even his head was slowly starting to sink into the snow, causing Spamton‘s eyes to widen in horror. „I’m everywhere…“
„What..?“ Spamton shook his head. „I- I don’t understand, what do you mean?“
„I can feel it…“ More string grew all over Tenna‘s screen, damaging the glass further. „The snow [soil]. The air. The life… I‘m everywhere [everything]. And it’s all… mine. And it‘s beautiful.“
Tenna’s head was swallowed up by the earth, leaving Spamton alone in the freezing cold. He hadn’t even noticed just how long he‘d been out, how much his hands had been trembling to the point that he completely lost feeling in them. Despite that, he couldn’t bring himself to get up and head back inside.
It took Tenna.
The thought made him collapse in the snow, breath hitching into almost a sob before he managed to catch himself. He didn’t know what he‘d done to piss his benefactor off to the point that they had to do this to Tenna. That they somehow lured Spamton out into the cold just so he could witness the sick and heart-wrenching display. To make him claw and grasp to try everything to keep his TV close to him, only to miserably fail.
It wasn’t even really Tenna. At least it didn’t feel like him, mentally warped and manipulated by whatever he had heard on the phone. If only it had actually been Tenna, the poor cathode would’ve been so scared, but then Spamton could’ve at least comforted him, told him all the things he never dared to share before.
But would he have really done that, even if he had the chance?
It‘d always seemed so easy to brush off with a simple mental note of ‘maybe another time‘ when Tenna was always right next to him. Large and loving and present, expressing his affections so freely and genuinely, always proving to Spamton time and time again just how much he cared about him. On late nights, when they celebrated after a good show or just because they felt like it, when Tenna would hold onto him so lovingly, Spamton had always assumed he still had so much time to enjoy with Tenna.
So much time to the point that he didn‘t need to tell Tenna all the things that were going through his head. All that weakness, those feelings that had wormed their way into his heart as he tried to consider Tenna nothing more than a business partner, drinking buddy, friend and regular fling.
No, Tenna had been so much more than that to him. Spamton had just never been brave enough to acknowledge it.
„Fuck…“ Almost another sob, but it stopped at the pathetic crack in Spamton‘s voice. Small hands hammered down on the snow, feeling anger rise within him. „Fuck!“ Louder this time, Spamton put his entire heart into it, all the anger and grief over losing Tenna.
„Give him back…” His hands balled into fists, uncaring about the biting chill going through him. „Fucking give him back!!“
It was nothing short of lunacy for him to start digging in the snow. His hands had long since grown numb, his fingers only twitching whenever he attempted to use them to push more snow away. Maybe Tenna was still there, maybe there was a way he could salvage this.
Oh, who was he even kidding? Himself? He should know better than that by now.
With the last of his strength leaving him, he curled up in the snow, at the edge of TV world. It all seemed so pointless now, everything he had done to get to this point, and for what? Eventually he’d have to get up and let the staff know that Tenna wouldn’t be coming back, but the mere thought of it was enough for his breath to hitch again.
And now the tears finally came, as if realization finally fully set in. Tenna was gone, Spamton had lost him to whatever his mysterious ‘benefactor’ had done. Spamton had been powerless to stop it, Tenna needed him and he failed.
It felt cruel to see Tenna behind his closed eyelids, for all of his thoughts to now be filled with the pleasant memories he shared with his partner. Sitting next to each other in Tenna’s dressing room, quips, jokes and howling laughter filling the room. The way Tenna‘s antennas would droop and he‘d shrink down when Spamton said anything mildly flirty towards anyone that wasn‘t him; Even when Spamton was just trying to butter a sucker up for a deal. Waking up with Tenna‘s arms wrapped around him and curled up on the CRT‘s chest after a night of fooling around together.
Just how close Spamton had gotten to say these 3 magic words time and time again.
It was like his own heart was blaming him for what happened, for not paying more attention, for not doing more, for not being better. He couldn’t even fault it, curling tighter around himself.
A foolish, grieving part of him imagined the doors to the studio being pushed open and Tenna running out, frantically looking for him like Spamton had done for him just a few moments ago. He‘d find Spamton, lying in the snow, shivering and not moving, and Tenna would gasp, running towards him and falling to his knees right beside Spamton‘s pitiful form.
Giant hands would scoop him up and press him against a warm, whirring chest. A worried voice frantically calling out to him while he was carried back inside, all the way to Tenna‘s dressing room. A crackling, fuzzy screen that radiated warmth would kiss his frozen mouth and cheeks again and again, not minding the salty taste of his tears, right before he‘d be taken to the private, adjacent bathroom. Tenna would let the bathtub fill with warm water, not too hot, still mindful of how frozen Spamton was, and kneel by his side while he soaked.
Gentle words would be exchanged, Tenna‘s big hand would find its way into his damp hair. He could practically see Tenna‘s screen in front of his inner eye: frowning worriedly, lip quivering, sniffling pathetically and of course close to tears.
And maybe Spamton could finally say those words to him, the ones he refused to acknowledge for the longest time but were now clawing at him, keeping him in a chokehold and refusing to let him go.
„I love you, Ant…“ Spamton whispered into the snow, his words drowned out by the howling wind around him.
Tenna didn‘t answer, the mental image he had of his TV slowly fading away. Spamton sobbed, trying so hard to keep it, to reach out and hold on, but it was already gone. He was already gone.
Of course, it was just a fantasy. Only Spamton could be so stupid, to not even realize what he had and how happy he‘d been until it was already gone.
Spamton only curled tighter around himself. There was no way he could move now, much less face any of the staff without completely breaking down. Even just entering the studio, having to see all the posters and statues of Tenna made his heart clench painfully.
With his ear pressed into the snow, he easily picked up on the weak earthquake that was hitting TV world. Was the world recognizing that its leader was gone? Would they all petrify soon? Spamton almost welcomed it, it seemed like the better alternative than thinking about how he‘d have to go on and become a big shot alone.
The rumbling was only getting stronger, noticeable enough that Spamton‘s eyebrows furrowed. He sniffed, cracking an eye open. „What the hell…?“ he mumbled to himself, propping his upper body up on one hand to take in his surroundings.
He didn’t know what he expected to find. Idiot, it’s an earthquake, he scolded himself, shaking his head. Damn emotions must be messing with his head, he reasoned. For even just clinging to the faint hope that this was somehow Tenna.
The rumbling got worse, evolving into full on shaking. A yelp escaped Spamron, whose arm gave out from under him and caused him to crash into the snow again. Both of his hands wound over his head, shielding himself as best as he could from his surroundings.
It was only getting worse, he could’ve sworn he heard the muffled panic from the staff inside. Understandable, there had never been an earthquake as long as Spamton had been here.
It kept getting louder, stronger. Spamton could hear something underneath him… moving?
No… breathing.
Without any further warning, the very earth ruptured before Spamton‘s eyes, breaking open with a deafeningly loud crash. His hearing went out for just a moment, replaced by a shrill ringing from just how loud it had been. Pieces of debris, ice, snow and loose earth were flying into every which way while Spamton was left to weakly scoot back to avoid being caught in the crossfire.
More and more of the ground broke away, falling into nothingness or rotating around the forming hole like moons orbiting around a planet.
Spamton‘s back hit the doors, not just shaking from the cold and grief now as he was basically witnessing TV World falling apart at the seams. He could barely keep his eyes open, every rapid gulp of air burned his lungs, vision blurry and hearing completely messed up.
Yet he witnessed the giant hands that emerged from the massive sinkhole, digging into the remains of the ground. It crumbled away like brittle cardboard under those giant paws. All his life, Spamton had thought that Tenna was the biggest darkner around, but this? This wasn’t even the same ballpark.
A single finger would be more than enough to crush Spamton like a pesky ant! No thought would even have to be put into it, what would the body look like if the hands were already so massive?! With a grip so forceful that it made the very earth look like nothing more than porous sand clumps.
Spamton really regretted wondering now, as whatever had been lurking beneath began to heave itself up. The very world was screaming from the pure force, and Spamton couldn’t help but join in once he saw the massive CRT head emerge from the ground.
Unbridled terror flooded Spamton‘s entire being. Tenna? It was Tenna? No, how could it be? He‘d seen what happened to his partner, he was gone. And there was no way Tenna could make himself this tall. Yet… there was only one darkner he knew with a TV head…
It looked just like Tenna‘s, the very thought painful to Spamton. But it was giant, it might’ve even been bigger than the entirety of the TV Time studio, a pair of white eyes shining down at Spamton like what he imagined the sun must look and feel like. Twin suns, except the light was cold and blinding.
Wait… Eyes? Spamton couldn’t tear his own away, fixated on the familiar yet completely strange face in front of him. The screen was dark, mouth and nose completely absent, yet there were eyes. It just looked wrong and unnerving on Tenna‘s face.
The antennas were almost artfully woven into each other, making them look more like a crown or fancy headpiece than what they usually were. And once the body was dragged out of the ground, Spamton could not stop screaming out in abstract terror, once again praying that this was nothing but a nightmare.
It was mountainous, compared to that… thing Tenna had become, Spamton really was nothing more than an ant. Hell, Tenna could probably crush the entire studio under a massive palm if he so desired. The exterior, or maybe skin, was a nearly completely translucent silicon, giving the body a subtle shine, the cat like claws that Tenna usually possessed were long, curved and dangerous. Spamton was convinced they could cut through anything if the foreboding glint to them was any indication. But it all completely paled compared to the body.
A black, inky substance completely filled it out, blocking out any light that might’ve made it easier to comprehend. Stars, planets and entire galaxies swirled inside it, a whole universe perfectly contained in what Spamton could only assume was a god now.
Beneath the murky darkness, Spamton could see the skeleton, with the CRT head it was the only thing that even vaguely resembled Tenna‘s usual metallic appearance. Beneath it all, he could still spot some of the familiar plating and complicated interior workings and wires running through the body like veins.
It was surrounded by sharp metal edges wrapping smoothly around the body. In a strange way they were both smooth silk and sharp metal. They were barely covering anything up, but the shifting colors from red to yellow made them bear a strange resemblance to Tenna‘s usual suit. If it weren‘t for the shining white eyes completely covering the material. None of them had pupils, yet Spamton still felt stared at.
The sky turned to static temporarily, only to be replaced by a multitude of screens, all displaying a variety of things Spamton could barely take in. Too many colors, too many images, too many incomprehensible messages, but they framed Tenna‘s head like a halo of flashing lights.
And now Spamton understood.
Tenna really was the lord of screens.