Chapter Text
“Uuugh…”
The Turbo Twins walked together through Game Central Station side by side, with Jet having just let out a groan. All of that mess. And just because HE couldn’t keep it together during a public event. “That was sooooo embarrassing…” He whined, slapping a hand to his forehead. “Why DID we invite Turbo? I feel like we—no, I feel like YOU should’ve known that was a bad idea!” He stopped abruptly to cross his arms and huff.
Set froze as well, blinking. “Wh—…” He sighed. “We invited him because we thought he needed a chance. He hasn’t gotten to do much with people for years, but… the drawback to that is… he hasn’t done much with people for years.” He explained while using his hands to help communicate his point. “‘Course he was gonna blow up. He wasn’t really prepared, especially for Gene’s flavor of speech.”
The two stood idle briefly. “…He wasn’t wrong.”
”—What?”
”Turbo IS a virus, basically! I mean you SAW the way that table just—it just, like—” Jet gestured a hyperbolic explosion. “BOOM, it—broke! Not broke as in you could just fix it but it was—… it wasn’t RIGHT! It wasn’t normal. It was moving all weird, it…” He trailed off. “…had Turbo all over it.”
Set hummed, shrugging one shoulder in admittance. “…Do you—think we should try and talk to him about it?”
”—Pff—you kidding? I don’t wanna talk to him after that! Who knows, he might still be pissed off!” Jet forced a laugh through his irritation. “And I’m not dealing with that ticked off racer. Not if I don’t gotta.” He stops to get a good look at one of those stares Set gives him. Those looks he gets when Set seriously needs him to do, or consider doing something, and that he won’t be swindled out of it at all. “…What?” Another moment of silence. That stare prolongs. “…Okay, FINE. Le—Let’s just go find him.”
Set nodded. “Thank you.” He said with a hint of exasperation. He scanned Game Central Station. “…Would anybody know where he went?”
”I ‘unno.” Jet shrugged. That’s not really his problem.
Set hums. “…Oh—let’s go ask Q*bert, he tends to keep an eye on people.” He grabs Jet by the wrist and walks them along.
Jet snickered. “Yeah, like he and his crew have anything else better to do.” He flinched slightly at the glare shot to him by Set. “Sorry-!”
The pair quickly reached where Q*bert was currently stationed, minding his own business before the Turbo Twins came along. “Hey, Q*bert. I don’t mean to bother you,” Set kneels down, “but would have happened to see Turbo by chance?” He asked, with his twin standing behind him, arms crossed and an irritated look on his face. Q*bert’s speech patterns go completely incomprehensible to Jet, but Set’s been learning it pretty well since they got unplugged. “Oh—you have. Okay, where is he?”
…
”What-?”
…
”Tha—” Set blinks. “That can’t be right.”
”What? What’s he sayin’, Set?” Jet looks between the two in puzzlement.
”He’s…” Set hesitates. He processes the statements a little more before finally concluding, “He’s saying he saw Turbo in one of those, like… giant mech armor suits-? The one’s that come from Hero’s Duty.”
Jet’s eyes widened, bewildered. “HUH-? But—THOSE things are HUGE, Turbo can’t fit in one of those!”
The Turbo Twins pause at another one of the Q*bert’s dialogues. “…It was shrunken, he says.” Set explains.
”Shru—uh—WHAT?” Jet frowned. “You pullin’ our legs here, Q?! It ain’t funny!” He glared down with narrowed eyes.
”Hey, easy. Q*bert wouldn’t lie. …Uh—I don’t think.” Set glanced to the side.
”So, what, I’m just supposed to believe Turbo SHRUNK a Hero’s Duty suit and—…” Jet stopped. He looked up and through the windows of Game Central Station. Bright as… bright… as… “…you’re not sayin’—”
Set hummed again, although this time MUCH more uncomfortably. “If… Q*bert’s telling the truth—which I’m sure he is—then…”
The twins stand in a stunned silence. All they can do is look at each-other with expressions that vary in intensities of Wow. Q*bert eyes between the two, muttering something to himself. He assumes that… this should probably be his cue to leave. Knowing the louder one, he’s bound to explode in about—
“Is—is he FLIPPIN’ STUPID?!” Jet shouted. “GAMEJUMPING?!—FOR WHAT?!”
Set jolted a bit at the sudden outburst. “I—I don’t know. He’s reckless, yeah, but I didn’t think it’d go to THIS extent. I thought he had more common sense than that.”
Jet threw his arms into the air, over his head. “Well, CLEARLY! He DOESN’T! Does he REALIZE he’s gonna get himself KILLED?! He doesn’t belong in that game, he don’t belong nowhere! In no game! And—and how didn’t anybody SEE him?? I mean—granted, he’s short, but he ain’t INVISIBLE! Where’d he get it?! How’d he shrink it?! Did those skills of his carry over into being able to REDESIGN S**T?” He blinked at the sudden censor. It caused him to fume a little harder. “UUUGH, I WISH I COULD SWEAR RIGHT NOW!”
His twin brought his hands to his shoulders, and gave him a good shake. “Jet, Jet! Brother. Listen, this is… a lot of information, yes—but right now, we’re gonna have to do something. I don’t know if anybody else knows… well… well besides Q*bert, and the fact you shouted loud enough to probably get everyone to hear a bit of that—but besides the point, we need to get him out of that game. He’s going—totally rogue. Totally rebelling. Totally…”
…Jet quirked a brow, hissing through clenched teeth. “Going Turbo?”
”…Yyyyes. Sure. Let’s go with that.” Set stared. “I know you’d be much happier leaving him to die, but it’s on our consciences if he dies. Do you get me?”
Jet coldly stared into Set’s eyes. Soon, he let out a loud sigh. “Yeaaaah… you’re always so convincing.” He steps back. “Okay. So. Saving Turbo’s a—butt. Got it. …How?”
Set shrugged. “What other way?” He motioned to the Hero’s Duty sector. “We’ll have to go in ourselves.”
The atmosphere set a shiver down both of the Twins’ spines. They conducted a plan that had to take place after the arcade closed. Would that leave a higher chance of Turbo legitimately just being dead? Yes. But it would also ensure their own safety. Not all three of them need to go down with the rebel. One trip through the subway transportation that was Hero Duty’s wire, and the two were hit with a crazy sense of discomfort. This wasn’t an easy place to be in. The place was all… dark… and green… and kinda sickly? It was hard to explain. They weren’t used to this sort of setting.
Jet and Set clasped one of each of their hands with the others, as a means of moral support on both sides. Jet glances to Set with a swallow. Set notices, and nods, partly firmly. “It’s… it’s fine. The arcade’s closed. Nothing bad can happen if nothing’s meant to really operate within the game itself. It’s fine.” The two then start forward, hoping to find Turbo—or get news about Turbo—and be out of here as fast as possible.
The two found the opening from the start of the game relatively easy, as it was straight ahead through clouds and clouds of haze. They could swear they could hear other people from the distance. They were talking—talking about… something. Someone? Debatably not Turbo, considering whoever they were talking about had a distinctly much longer name than Turbo. The Twins keep walking, though the conversation notably halts as they approach. Wonder what that’s about…
As soon as they cross the fog—they have firearms aimed directly at them, the high pitched whirr of targets locking onto them causing the two of them to nearly run the other way. Instead, they freeze, throwing both of their arms up. “AAH—WAITWAITWAIT—MY HANDS ARE UP—DON’T HURT ME!” Jet screamed, while Set glued his mouth shut. These people looked… intimidating. Scary. Very scary. They had guns. They aren’t used to guns.
The three soldiers slowly lower their weapons by Calhoun’s command. “…Well now I won’t. Since the both of you just seem to be a couple of shrimps.” She mutters.
Set exhaled, shakily. “Ah… tha—thank you…?” He lowered his arms, and shuffled in place to help himself feel less stuck still. He cleared his throat. “We were… hoping—we could find someone here. Sure, not… not like that, but… it works. We… uhhh…” He trailed off, noticing the soldiers were getting closer. Umm. Umm. Ummmm.
Jet jumps in front of Set, as if to protect him. “We have questions! That we need you guys to answer! Or… juu—just ONE! Just oooone question. Or maybe more.” He waved his arms up and down to emphasize. “Yeah, sooo… can you—can you help us with that?”
The two army-men behind Calhoun eyed each-other whilst snickering, while Calhoun raised her eyebrow suspiciously. “…Hhm. State your names. And your purpose.” She squints.
”Oh—uh—right, uhh—I’m Jet, this is Set—the naming might take a minute to get used to because we look the exact same—just use our, uhh… our—our behaviors to differ—differentiate, cool? Cool.” Jet started. “And, uhh… this is… where I pose the—right, right. We’re looking for Turbo. He’s like… he’s like us? Except shorter. Wears white and red. Yellow eyes. He’s kinda ugly.” He got nudged in the shoulder for that one. “Aye—”
Calhoun’s expression shifted. “Never heard of him.”
”Uhhhh…”
”Q—Q*bert said he came here. He had one of your suits on, but… he… manipulated its size, somehow.” Set interjected eventually once he got his footing.
Calhoun’s eyes suddenly widened. “Wait—wait, THAT was Turbo-?” She reeled back as if she finally had the ability to recognize who this Turbo guy was. “The pint-sized one with the red glitch?” She looks back at the two soldiers like they’d understand as quickly as she did.
Jet pauses. Glitches. He was GLITCHING too? Ohhh god. “…Yep—yep, that was him. He’s a virus.” He got nudged again. “AYE—I’m telling her the TRUTH.”
”A virus?” Calhoun repeatedly sharply. “He hijacked one of the rounds this morning like an idiot. Got the First Person Shooter killed!”
The Turbo Twins eye each other. Ohhhh boy. “…Do you… do you know where he is now…?” Set slowly asked.
As the question lingered, a faint bang was heard from a far, far distance. But it was loud enough for everyone to at least pick up decently. The squad turned about, trying to locate the noise. “What was that…?” Jet whispered, rather fearfully.
One of the soldiers glanced up and froze. Narrowing his eyes, he was quick to look back at the others. “It’s coming from the tower. Red spots.”
…Red spots.
Turbo hit the cold floor of the spire with a short grunt, taking a second to lay there while his body sputtered with glitches. He huffed, rubbing his helmet—subsequently, his head—pretty weakly. Having to zap every few seconds at a time while also spending most of your day hiding from giant metallic bugs was… was pretty tiring! Though he was out of that clunky suit, which tired him out moreover. He wouldn’t recommend it! Normally. But today was special. Everything about today was. Cobbling together the rest of his resolve, he pushed himself to his feet. Shaking his head, he muttered, “Okay… okay.” He shook out his hands, and looked ahead.
A little ways in front of him was a podium. Illuminated in proud, cyan light, protected by a spinning shield of durable metal. Though… surrounding the glorious sight were a bunch of those Cybug eggs. Turbo doesn’t really know how these things work, but he won’t risk touching them. He shrugs both shoulder individually, tiredly closing his eyes, and letting himself have another cheat shot.
That new zap caused him to double over a little. He never used his power this much in a single day. Exhaling, he looked over his shoulder at the untouched eggs. He then cracked a smile. Look at that! Nothing to worry about. He turned back, and walked himself up the steps he was presented with. He couldn’t help but let out a little victory hum for himself, as the pillars came to a halt, and dramatically shifted upward with a loud, almost screeching kshhhh accompanying it.
Now, in front of the racer, was a medal. One similar to those he got whenever he won matches in his own game. But even just the similar sight caused his eyes to glimmer. A hologram flickered on in front of him, depicting what seemed to be a commander. Or some kind of wary general type guy. Standing tall, he spoke: “Congratulations, soldier. It is my honor to bestow upon you: the Medal of Heroes.” As he spoke, the medal floated nicely down towards Turbo, like it truly was a gift. A gift of… honor.
Turbo WAS an honor, wasn’t he? That rush of adrenaline came back to him; the one he had whenever he won. The feeling was hard to describe other than adrenaline. It was euphoric, it was all encompassing. It was all he’d wish to know. Nothing beat that feeling. That rush, that SPARK. The one that told him that he was the greatest racer ever! That nothing could best him. And if anything could, it wouldn’t be for long. Since he’d always catch back up and reclaim his place. As the greatest racer ever. And now—now he can call himself a hero! The hero that saved humanity! Imagining the look on that bitbodied snobs face caused a wicked grin to flair upon Turbo’s face. He’s done it again. He’s done it again! He’s won.
The medal falls along his neck. “…” He looks down at it, watching the gold gleam in the light. He cups the chip in both hands, delicately. Like a piece of fine china. He breathed out, which evolved into him giggling—then chuckling—then laughing out loud as proudly as he could. “YES! HaHAA!” He pumped his fist. His pride grew stronger once the other holograms saluted him. “Yes, YES-! Oohoohoo—” He shook out his hands again, before throwing one hand into the air, forming it into a thumbs up. “Turbotastic!”
“History will long revere your courage and sacrifice.”
“Haha! Ha… thank you, thank you!” Turbo smiled, turning on his heel to walk away. It… took him a second to remind himself that none of these people were… real. But… ah, what the heck? Praise is praise! And he loves himself some praise.
”You have etched in the rock of virtue a legacy beyond repair.”
”You are the universe’s greatest hero.” The greatest racer, AND the greatest hero?! Wowie! Could today get any better?
…
And then he heard a crack. Turbo froze, body going entirely tense. The crack was squelchy, and fresh. Like… like breaking an—oh no. He stumbled back, spouting out a combination of startled words and reactionary sounds. The Cybug egg he was just so lucky to have stepped on began to glow that familiar shade of green. It soon dissipated, and once Turbo got a better look… it hatched a baby Cybug! He… he didn’t know what to expect. It was small. Barely any bigger than his foot. It was round, and green, and… if he didn’t know any better, it was… it was actually kind of adorable. Aww… look at its big eyes. Aww. He’d keep it.
Well. That was all before it pounced on his face.
Turbo’s screams and shouts of protest against this assault were all but muffled. He flailed around, his body beginning to violently glitch again in as a response to his panic. The holograms speech had continued as usual, but the racer wasn’t able to make out much of what he said, or remember what was said prior. He was too preoccupied, y’know, getting mauled. Something about… bravery, integrity, grace under pressure… dignity? His placement got shot around, activating more Cybug eggs in the process while he desperately clawed to get the one currently latched to his face… off of his face.
Turbo eventually ended up in—something. Something that shut its door behind him, and left him in a much more enclosed area. It certainly didn’t help his freak out. His glitch not only spread to the Cybug, which—at the very least, helped him get it off momentarily (y’know, before it went back in for round two)—it spread to the escape pods controls. His back was up against the wheel, and when his glitch spread to the steering wheel…
Well.
It deployed, shooting straight towards the ground before bugging out, and suddenly ending up somewhere to the right, completely midair, still moving straight ahead. Turbo spun around, gasping for air, using his leg to try and keep him and this PEST lodged against the space between the control panel and the floor, separating them while he tried to control this escape pod. “WH-WHAT THE—HUHAHA??” HOW DID HE EVEN GET HERE? HE DOESN’T REMEMBER GETTING HERE? Instantaneously, however, he grabbed the wheel, and jerkily tried to control the ship.
It hadn’t even registered that he was glitching. And the glitch was affecting the ships movement patterns against his intentions. At some point, he was sent barreling towards the ground again, hardly processing the distant “INCOMING!” and the blurs of multiple faces. Three of which he was familiar with. Jet, Set, and Calhoun. And theyyy… they all saw him. He could at least note that.
Next thing he knew, he was bouncing around Game Central Station. One moment he’s here, then he’s there—oh wait! Now he’s UPSIDE DOWN. Now he landed, NO WAIT! He’s in the air again! Spinning! Like what the hell. His body is entirely broken up and so is his mind, he can’t even tell if the Cybug is on him anymore, or if it’s escaped its ensnarement. It could be crawling on him right now, it could be trying to eat him alive, but he just couldn’t tell. Nothing was really processing anymore. All he COULD process, was that he was in a ship.
And now he’s flying into another game.
He didn’t process the title, he didn’t process the people he could’ve injured, he didn’t process how this must’ve looked, he didn’t process the Cybug basically gnawing at his arm, or that it got bigger, not that he could process the sudden weight, and the way everything just felt out of his control, his body was shattered, he was frenzied, where was he even going, WHAT IS HE EVEN DOING? HE’S NEVER STEERED A SHIP BEFORE!
…
Hey, yeah, where… where IS he going?
He never read the headline.