Chapter Text
Till hid behind a crate in a small moving ship, rehearsing his plan.
All he had to do was disable the one or two Segyin who’d be running the ship and then hotwire the ship itself to get to a meet up with some new rebellion members and some kids that had been 'yoinked'. They just needed transport and, apparently hotwiring an old Keul ship would be the most convenient way to do it.
Plus it would serve as a nice- almost symbolic- stunt if anyone was able to trace this back to the Rebellion, unlikely as it was that someone would notice.
Till may have loved stunts, but he was still good at his "job" if he did say so himself
Hearing the doors to the ship close, Till quietly listened for footsteps. Two pairs: one larger, probably hired muscle. One smaller, probably the one actually driving the ship. Segyin loved putting themselves in categories and it made it easier to classify who did what. Till nodded to himself and made sure his helmet was fastened properly. No need to show off his face.
Then he grabbed a loose piece of pipe and jumped at the larger alien once the ship door was locked. This specific species had a brittle skeleton and large amounts of musculature, so one well-placed hit on the back of the skull with the pipe and it crumpled like wet paper almost immediately.
It was rather gross, all thin shattered bone jutting out awkwardly from its thick skin and stark blue blood beginning to pool at his feet. It was nasty, and while vindicating would not be good for appearances if seen. Till simply dumped the Alien into a previously emptied box. Not noticing that the other alien had already changed its attention to Till and moved to press something on the console.
Till swung at the smaller alien, hearing the satisfying crunch of brass knuckles against bone. It fell limply against the console, slamming against it with a Thud in its descent. It attempted to crawl away, pathetic as it was.
Ugly, pathetic thing. Segyin had never shown humans a modicum of decency. Why would Till of all people be the one to offer mercy?
He knew the cruelties of the inhuman with far more depth than any person should ever wish to possess. Taking this depth, he had turned it into fire, that fire into justice. A system in which he acted as sole judge, jury, and executioner. No Segyin was safe from his wrath, and no Segyin ever would be.
For each pain that they had caused to Till, he would repay it a hundredfold. It was only the mildest retribution he could provide, but a worthy one nonetheless.
As for that disgusting, crawling thing, Till had 'unfortunately' already jumped on it, hitting the alien in the chest over and over and over until it wasn’t even able to twitch.
The second Segyin was placed in the same box as the first and locked tightly away to make sure none of the people he’d be picking up would see a corpse.
The grey haired man then went up to the console, crouched down, and tugged open the panel. Exposing the wiring under it. He cut a few wires deliberately before something started sparking.
Perfectly normal situation, honestly. Hotwired ships, especially older models, did that kinda thing a lot. He just needed to tie together those two wires, the sparking didn’t even bother him. A benefit of his messed-up nerves, all things considered.
He finished up his work and stood up, wiping imaginary dust from his pants (for a model this old, the ship is weirdly clean). He looked back down at the console and saw him .
He was laying stomach-down on the console like an idiot, kicking his stupid white dress shoes back and forth like an excitable child. Lips pulled into a seemingly ‘endearing grin’. Stupid snaggletooth sticking out, eyes filled with that ugly red center.
“Whatcha doing Till ?”
The pipe was back in Till’s hand before he could even think, already slamming down into the console where his head should’ve been. He flickered out of vision and back in near the emergency stop button. Spreading his arms open like he was going to give Till a hug, eyes gleaming unnaturally. Blood dribbled down his chin slightly. A stark contrast to that dumb white outfit .
“You really 𝗺̘̚𝗶̘̚𝘀̘̚𝘀̘̚𝗲̘̚𝗱̘̚ 𝗺̘̚𝗲̘̚ , huh?”
Till didn’t even register that he was trying to be funny. Swinging the pipe again so it would go clean through his head. Once again he disappeared, appearing right behind Till and wrapping his arms around the man.
His head was resting on top of Tills, a phantom sensation of a sharp chin poking him in the head.
He had always been tall enough to do that, even now he was still taller than Till. even now.
“You’re so mean~” a pout was easy enough to hear in his voice.
“As if you have any right to be upset”
“You wound me Till, I thought we were friends”
Hands creeping up to his throat
Constricting
“Very, very, very good friends.”
Help- I can’t breathe- I can’t breathe-
“Weren’t we Till?”
What is he doing? This wasn’t a part of the round- he’s not supposed to have done that-
No
NO
LET ME SAY GOODBYE PLEASE–
I NEED TO SEE HIM ONE LAST TIME–
DON’T TAKE ME AWAY
I SHOULD BE THE DEAD ONE-
IT SHOULD’VE BEEN ME–
STOP
PLEASE I’M BEGGING YOU
STOP
His hands come off his neck.
He’s gone.
Good.
Till can get back to work then. Take stock of what he has to do now and ignore whatever that just was. Usually when he disappears like that, the peace lasts for a day or two. Till’s better at holding him off than he was seven years ago after all.
Not much better, but that was just because that… person had always had too much power over him.
The console is sparking and the emergency stop button is wrecked.
Lovely.
Till didn’t need the emergency stop button anyways.
The sparking console probably isn’t a good sign, but he can salvage it.
Probably.
Let’s see… maybe flipping around some wiring and-
His hand presses down on a button. It’s probably fine… right?
Nope.
The ship launches itself upwards at top speed, slamming Till into the other end of the vehicle. He huffed, trying to fight gravity but finding it almost impossible to move from his spot. The ship kept moving until stopping with seeming abruptance, finally giving Till a moment to breathe and move. He looked out the window, trying to figure out where he was, eyes widening.
Oh, that’s not good.
I’m out of atmosphere! Does my com even work?
I need to let the others know to not be completely useless.
The hunk of metal and wiring certainly worked, but just barely. He could maybe send one message before he got out of range. Supposing it would be best to send something utilitarian a quick: ‘in space somehow, unlikely to ever come back. Send someone else to pick up the people because I currently can't.’ Would hopefully suffice.
He hit send, seeing his comm light up with a hundred different messages that he would ignore for his own sake. The more important thing was to get the ship turned back to the direction that was hopefully the planet.
Till only has hope. When he almost died it was just hope that stopped him from dying. It was only hope that had let him survive until getting treatment. It was only hope that let him get through each day without breaking down and facing everything that had happened to him in that damned tournament.
The console wasn’t working anymore.
That was a problem.
A major fucking problem considering that he is in the middle of space, drifting into nowhere with who knows how much oxygen and no food nor water to sustain himself with!
There’s no way anyone will come and get him and even if a ship does pick him up, Till will probably just end up getting forced into being a pet again. And he is not doing that again.
Never again.
He moves down to the wiring to try and fix what’s wrong with the ship and just finds that over half of it is absolutely fried. It’s no good, none of it is usable at this point.
Lovely.
Till slides down the wall of the ship and puts his head in his hands, he doesn’t want to die up here, not seeing any of his friends or pseudo-kids ever again. Dead in some random ship with just some things and the bodies of random aliens shoved in a box. At least he has his soundboard… he can play a stupid sound from his helmet before he dies or something.
Hilarious.
Despite how normalized it had been in his little world, Till had always feared death. The feeling had only gotten worse after Round 6, considering… Everything .
How anything in this situation made him think about that, he had no idea. Maybe it was the despair, the depressive atmosphere, the high chance he was going to die. At least there was no stupid song and no stupid black haired obsessive –
Till shook his head, uneffectivley clearing his mind and not particularly helping his spiral. Which was justified, considering that he was going to die on some random ship in the void of space for crying out loud!
Till was a failure, a terrible horrible failure, and everything from this situation had proved this.
If he’d kept his temper in check he wouldn’t have reacted how he did.
If he was better, Till would’ve been able to fix this issue.
Till is supposed to be better than that. He’s the big scary human who attacks Segyein mercilessly. He’s a wanted criminal for crying out loud! How could he be so stupid?
Till was supposed to die a martyr. It was the least he could do after surviving for so long.
But he’d always just been a stupid idealistic boy, hasn’t he.
Till was never good for anything, the most he could do is pretend by rebelling and following a cause led by people better than him.
Well, if I’m going to die anyways… I might as well take a nap. I’m sure it would be better to be asleep once the eventual lack of oxygen takes me. Probably less painful as well.
He wakes up… some point later to a loud tearing or sort of banging noise, like someone punching metal. As well as frustrated screaming of... some sort?? Though that thought is quickly filed away and briskly forgotten when the ship begins to shake and contort. Till looks out the window and sees an oddly shaped mass of lightless space, anything around it contorting towards the center.
A black hole?
But those don't look like that-
Black holes are perfect circles, this one is strange, looking more like a hole you'd get in a shirt, all torn around the edges.
But even if it's a strange black hole... it's still acting like one and pulling the ship towards it.
The tear in space is pulling the ship towards it...
Wait
The tear in space is pulling the ship towards it???
The ship is being pulled into a black hole of sorts-
Oh no.
oh hell no.
He was prepared to die of suffocation, or of his lungs exploding, or starvation, or dehydration. Something normal all things considered. Something that had been a chance before and he could rationalize. But being turned to metaphysical spaghetti was not something that Till could prepare for! He supposed he would just have to accept his fate and-
The world melted into long strings of color and sounds and light. Everything that was around him shrunk and expanded infinitely into all directions.
Till’s throat burned, as if his vocal chords were rearranging and making space for something new to burst out of his throat like some freaky jack-in-the-box made of blood, sinew, and flesh. He wondered half-deliriously if it would make that stupid chiptune song as it wound up, if it would come out from the bottom with a sickening pop, crunch, snap of bone and the rip of flesh.
It was a funny thought, making an almost manic laugh bubble up in his throat before being shot down by the scorching pain drowning his nerves.
Till’s body felt fundamentally wrong, as if someone had taken a seam ripper to the very fabric of his existence. Everything twisted and contorted, colors too bright and too dark. His head spinning, ears ringing, teeth itching all the way into the roots.
Till wanted to simultaneously claw his eyes out and find a cold quiet place to crawl into and die. But he couldn’t move, his body wasn’t his own. Like Till was floating a yard away from his body and barely holding onto it at the points where he felt that searing unbearable pain.
The feeling lasted what felt like an eternity and less than a second at once before it stopped. All feeling was gone. It was nice, floaty, quiet. Till didn’t mind it honestly.
This was the first time he’d ever felt at peace.
True peace, not the fake, eternal happiness type, the sort of peace where he no longer felt anything nor longed for anything.
An empty blankness of white void and fleeting color, space, shape, and emotion. perfectly neutral with no deviation.
Not too bright, not too dark, no feeling other than a persistent itch in his nerves and that still burning sensation in his throat and diaphragm.
It was irritating his scars and making all his old injuries feel fresh. Almost like being turned inside-out.
Yet, Till couldn’t find it in himself to care, it was nice floating in this void. Comfortable and soft, a weighted blanket made of static balming his worries and filling his head with cotton.
He truly hoped it would stay like this forever, but Till's never been on good terms with lady luck. Everything would crash back into a dingy, disgusting feeling soon enough.
The world once more feels real and solid.
The world now smells of rust, metal, blood, the faint tinge of alcohol and vomit among other things feeling sharp and assaulting Till's senses even through the supposedly airtight ship.
He sits up cautiously, nerves feeling raw, his skin tinged pink like a newborns. He stretched carefully, everything on his body feeling too-tight and wrong. Eyes aching and feeling like the capillaries within them had burst and reformed at once.
Where the hell am I?