Chapter Text
The Chosen One tossed the fiery fox against the red stick figure and heard multiple explosions. That would keep them busy. She jumped back into google, hoping that the Animator wouldn’t follow after her immediately. She refreshed the page before landing, having to roll to reduce the force of the fall.
She watched impatiently for the pop up that promised her freedom, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before his enemies arrived. She was shaking and she clenched her fists in an attempt to calm down.
And then it appeared, her way to freedom. But to her dismay, the Cursor holding the red stick figure appeared on the opposite corner. The red stick figure raised their hand and a ball of fire began to form. The Chosen One panicked and flew as fast as she could towards the pop up.
She wondered if she could be faster than fire because this was her last chance to try and escape. She knew that if she failed, they wouldn’t give her another chance to try. He wouldn’t give her another chance to try. It’d be the end.
Her hand touched the link seconds before the fireball did and she even saw the cursor heading towards the pop up. But she was fast enough and she felt a force pulling her out of danger. The computer, her prison, was gone. Instead, she was in a long, white tube not falling, but flying. She let out a sigh of relief and a tear fell down her cheek, flying away at the speed of the wind hitting her face.
She was free.
~*~
Alan watched as The Dark Lord’s fireball hit the pop up and The Chosen One was suddenly gone as there was a big explosion. He leaned back against his chair, relieved even if Google was in flames. He couldn’t believe The Chosen One had been defeated, The Dark Lord had done its job well.
Speaking of The Dark Lord… He should probably get rid of it before something happened. Sure, it had been a useful ally but keeping a stick figure named The Dark Lord in his computer for any longer than necessary sounded like an unnecessary risk.
He turned towards it and moved the cursor with the intention of clicking on it but something made him stop. The Dark Lord was… celebrating it seemed. Jumping up and down in an almost excited way and pumping up its fists. He let the cursor linger beside it. It looked… genuine. And not only that, he would even describe it as childish. But that didn’t make any sense, it was just a stick figure, it couldn’t be childish. None of the others had ever acted like that, they had been quick to anger and violent. Nothing but mindless beasts. Or had they? Maybe he just hasn’t noticed. Maybe they were alive.
He shook his head. No. That was impossible. Programmer021 had assured him that the stick figures were not alive, they were just computer programs and nothing more.
He moved the cursor towards The Dark Lord, who stopped their celebration to look at it. It raised its hand and Alan got ready for an attack. But he was shocked when it simply tapped the cursor with it and he couldn’t deny what that had been. The Dark Lord had just high fived him.
It raised its hands in what looked like triumph and then stayed on an idle pose, as if awaiting instructions. As if they were a child.
Oh God. Was it a child? Had he sent a child to fight a murderous stick figure? What was his responsibility with it? Were the others kids as well…?
He dismissed the thought immediately. The others weren’t really alive, this was the exception. Neither Victim nor The Chosen One had acted like a child. No, The Dark Lord was different, it- they were special.
Alan looked at them, still standing idle and seemingly looking up at him through the screen. Well, he couldn’t delete them if they were a child. Besides, he supposed he didn’t mind keeping them around, he rather liked them since they had done nothing wrong since their creation.
Alan picked them up with his cursor and dragged them towards his animation software. He chuckled when The Dark Lord reacted like a kitten when being carried by the scruff.
Alan gently dropped them on the program and went for the text tool. He had gotten an idea. It had seemed like The Chosen One could read since it seemed to understand what Clippy was saying. Maybe, he could communicate with his little stick figure through text.
Hi. He typed.
The Dark Lord waved enthusiastically at him. Alan let out a shaky breath. Ok. That confirmed it.
What could he tell them? He decided to continue thinking of them as a child because he didn’t know what to say to a stick figure.
Good job out there, he stopped typing and then decided to add a !
The Dark Lord flapped their arms before moving towards the letters. They grabbed some of them and shifted them, Alan tried to figure out what they were doing but he couldn’t make sense of it.
The Dark Lord placed the modified letters back into the text box and put their hands on their hips like they were proud of their work.
Thnxs :) They had written.
Alan’s breath hitched. They could talk. Well, write but it still took him by surprise. And they even had used a little smiley face. Alan looked at the stick figure for a long moment.
It was friendly, unlike the others. Alan couldn’t believe he had almost deleted them. They were fascinating and he was suddenly giddy about the idea of having a small little guy living in his computer. He smiled at them.
My name’s Alan. He typed.
The stick figure pointed to the bottom of the program, where their name was still visible. He regretted the name choice slightly, but names had power and The Dark Lord was the best he could think of in a short time.
Alan looked at the mission he had written. It was still active, which was a surprise since The Chosen One was gone. Either way, The Dark Lord was a child and that mission wasn’t needed anymore. He selected it and cut it.
The Dark Lord seemed to relax. And Alan found himself thinking that the name didn’t fit them at all.
Do you like your name?
The Dark Lord nodded.
Alan shrugged. If they liked it then he supposed it was alright. But he was stumped about what to do next. What could he do with the stick figure now? He still had to clean his computer and fix everything The Chosen One had destroyed.
He patted The Dark Lord on the head with the cursor and minimized the program. His desk was a mess. He sighed, it would take a while.
He picked up a flaming piece of some program and move it to the trash can.
The Dark Lord appeared at the bottom of the screen but Alan paid them no mind. They waved at him and moved his cursor in a vague wave at them before continuing to clean up.
But then The Dark Lord picked up a piece of a program, flew over to the trash can and threw it. Alan blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected them to help him. They stared at him expectantly.
He opened the animation program again and The Dark Lord flew into it.
Thank you, good job. :)
The Dark Lord raised their arms and immediately regretted it as the fire keeping them in the air disappeared and they began to fall. Alan grabbed them before they could hit… the ground? And gently dropped them down.
They looked embarrassed and Alan couldn’t help chuckle. For a stick figure, they were weirdly adorable.
Do you mind helping some more?
They nodded excitedly and flew to go pick up more trash. Alan smiled and closed the program.
~*~
Victim was with Mitsi, discussing their upcoming projects when the alarm began to sound. They looked at each other with worry.
“That’s weird.” She said. “Why do you think it’s sounding?”
Victim shook his head, already on edge. “I don’t know.”
“I’ll contact Agent to see if he already knows what’s happening.” She said, reaching for her phone.
But before she could grab it, Victim’s own phone began to ring. “It’s Agent.” He said. She rushed to his side as Victim answered. “Agent, what’s going on?”
Mitsi pressed herself to the phone to hear his response. “We’ve got a hostile. You might actually want to come here.”
Victim exchanged a confused look with Mitsi. “Why is that?”
“The hostile is on the north wing.” He simply said.
Victim’s breath caught in his throat and Mitsi squeezed his hand in comfort. “They came through the link? It worked?” He rasped our after a few seconds of silence.
“Yes, sir.” Agent replied. “The workers tried to approach them but they uh…”
“They what, Agent?” Victim urged him, gripping the phone like a life line.
“Sir, they appear to have powers. They threw fire and are currently encircled by a ring of flames, preventing anyone from approaching.” He informed.
“Have they harmed anyone?” Mitsi asked before he could say anything.
Agent stayed quiet, most likely thinking his answer well. “No, ma’am. The flames didn’t hit anyone and even though he attacked us when we tried to approach, they seemed to have intentionally missed us.” He paused. “They have backed themselves into a corner. Everyone was evacuated but the building is beginning to burn.”
“They’re probably just scared.” Mitsi reasoned. “We need to get them out of there before building collapses or it fills with smoke.” She said with a determined frown.
“Mitsi, that is not a good idea.” Agent said, dropping the ma’am. “They won’t listen to anyone and it would be too dangerous to try and approach them.”
“We cannot leave them there.” She insisted.
“Are they like me?” Victim asked.
“A hollow head? Yes, sir.” Agent said.
Victim struggled to swallow. “We’re on our way.” He hung up.
Mitsi looked at him with worry. “You don’t think…”
Victim shook his head, tightening his grip around her hand to ground himself. “Only one way to be sure.”
They arrived at the north wing in less than five minutes, black smoke was coming out of the door and windows and heat radiated off it. Several workers were gathered nearby, speaking in hushed tones and casting worried glances around. Agent was waiting for them outside the building.
“They’re inside there.” He informed, leading them inside and handing them oxygen masks, he already had one on.
Victim walked inside in a crouched position, Mitsi and Agent at his sides. The building was illuminated by the fire already engulfing most of the walls. And at the opposite wall, pressed against a corner, was a black hollow head. They were trembling and looking around desperately for any threats. When they spotted them, they pressed themselves further against the wall.
“Oh, poor thing.” Mitsi whispered beside him.
With a nod towards Agent, they slowly approached the stick figure. As they got closer, he realized they were smaller than him. Could they be a child? Maybe a teen? His fists tightened at the thought of such a young person suffering through what he had.
Agent stopped them. “If we get any closer, they’ll start attacking.”
Mitsi and him nodded in understanding. He had no idea what to do next, what to say to them to calm them down. Luckily, Mitsi took the lead.
“Hello.” She said with her sweet, calming voice. The stick figure focused on her, looking even more terrified. “We don’t mean you any harm. Did you come here through the freedom link?”
The stick figure stiffened at that and nodded.
“That’s great! That means it works!” She said, looking at him with a proud smile.
“Did you make it?” The stick figure rasped out.
Oh, she sounded young, too young.
“Yes. My husband Vic designed it to aid stick figures like you.” She said, glancing at him to continue.
“Yes.” He said, trying to be heard over the roar of the flames. “I was trapped by an animator once and I wanted to help others like I would’ve liked to be helped.” He paused, a question burned inside him like the flames around him. “Was that what happened to you?”
The child looked down. “Yes.” Her breath hitched.
“You’re safe here now.” He said. “He can’t hurt you anymore.”
She looked at him like she desperately wanted to believe him but couldn’t, he understood that feeling all too well.
The ceiling above them made a terrible metallic sound. It was going to collapse at any moment.
“How about we go outside and talk more there?” Mitsi asked, casting a worried look at the burning ceiling. She extended her hand towards her.
The child hesitated and slowly extended her hand, the fire encircling her dying down.
“Watch out!” Agent screamed, throwing himself between them and creating a shield with his ui tool.
The ceiling was collapsing and Victim knew the shield wouldn’t be enough. He braced himself but something hit him and he felt himself being pushed back. He landed on his back on the grass outside the building just as he heard the building collapse. He looked to his side and let out a sigh of relief when he saw Agent and Mitsi laying beside him. But where was the kid.
Several workers approached them to make sure they were okay. Victim allowed them to help him sit up and looked around for the kid, who was most likely responsible for their survival. She was lying on the grass near them. She was hitting her leg desperately, kicking and rolling, trying to put out the fire.
She didn’t relax when it was out but instead shot up into her feet, almost falling over from how tired she was. She looked at the workers like they were going to bite her and he wondered if she saw the same thing he had seen all those years ago.
Mitsi stood up and removed her oxygen mask. With slow, deliberate steps she approached the child. When she saw Mitsi, she relaxed slightly. Mitsi reached her arms towards her and she flinched. But Mitsi didn’t give up and tried again.
The child trembled. “I’m sorry.” She slurred as Mitsi wrapped her arms around them.
“It’s ok, you’re ok.” Mitsi whispered.
The child buried her face on Mitsi’s neck as sobs came out of her and she shook in her arms. She clung to her like her life depended on it.
As Mitsi soothed her, the fire on the building died down. And a new fire lit up again inside Victim.
Noogai would pay.