Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Surprise!" was the first thing that N. Gin heard as he stepped into his laboratory. He screamed.

"Gah! You all scared me!" he smiled. "You know how much I love that!"

His lab was filled with many of his comrades, past and present: Dr. Cortex, Tiny Tiger, Dingodile, Ripper Roo, Dr. Nitrus Brio, and even Pinstripe Potoroo, whom he'd only known from whenever it was go-kart night.

"Yes, of course," said Cortex. "And since it's your birthday, you can do whatever you please for today."

N. Gin squealed giddily. "Oh, yes, I already know what I want!" He pointed at Cortex and then at Pinstripe. "You two, meet with me in my bedroom."

Cortex and Pinstripe stared at each other in confusion.

"An' the rest of us?" asked Dingodile.

"LEAVE!" was N. Gin's only response as he walked out of the laboratory.

Everyone except for Cortex and Pinstripe grumbled as they left, using the lab's other entrance.

"Bedroom?" Pinstripe raised his eyebrows.

Cortex shrugged. "I mean, he IS very lonely."

Pinstripe sighed. "I'm not ready to lose it today to a stranger."

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Alright, N. Gin, what is it that you wanted us to do?" Cortex asked as he and Pinstripe entered the bedroom.

N. Gin was sitting on the bed, his arms and legs crossed. "I've known what I've wanted for a week now." He pointed at Cortex. "You've been my friend and master for a long time. And I appreciate that." He pointed at Pinstripe. "And YOU work for him."

"Let's get this ovah with," Pinstripe mumbled.

N. Gin clasped his hands together. "I've decided! We shall have a birthday sleepover, and go to McDonald's!"

Cortex and Pinstripe stared at N. Gin blankly. "Uh, N. Gin, that doesn't sound like much of a birthday celebration," said Cortex.

"but doctah cortehx," said N. Gin, "most of my past birthdays have involved me isolated in my room or laboratory, watching old Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen movies, or being beaten by my parents. Or a mix of those things. McDonald's honestly sounds like a step up, don't you think?"

Dr. Cortex sighed. "I suppose you're right. After all, today is your day."

N. Gin's natural eye lit up excitedly. "Thank you, master!"

"Mastah?" Pinstripe raised his brow.

"It's our thing, Pinstripe, don't worry about it," Cortex assured. He raised his fist. "Now, off to McDonald's!"

Chapter Text

Ah yes. McDonald's. The thing you came here for.

"Ah yes. McDonald's," said Cortex as he, N. Gin, and Pinstripe Potoroo pulled up in Pinstripe's mafia-funded car. "The thing we came here for."

The trio got out of the car, and Pinstripe locked it. "You'rah welcome forah payin'."

"Pinstripe, can you be normal for one night?" Cortex asked.

The potoroo rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'll drop the accent for you. Happy?"

"I am, if it means we finally can go inside," said N. Gin.

Cortex and Pinstripe sighed and followed N. Gin inside of the fast food restaurant.

"Alright, I'll order the food for you. You two go find a table," said Cortex. Before the other two could say anything, Cortex headed towards the counter.

Pinstripe looked at N. Gin. "Aftah you," he said.

N. Gin grinned. "Thanks, but if you need me, I'll be in the playground." He bounded off towards the empty McDonald's playground. Pinstripe sighed and pulled out his phone, sitting at an empty table.

Meanwhile, Cortex made his way to the counter.

"Welcome to McDonal's, how may- oh." The employee, a possum, grimaced. "It's you."

"Yes...?" Cortex responded. "And you are?"

The girl gasped and placed a hand over her heart. "Why- I'm Pasadena O'Possum, remember? You tried to take over Von Clutch's amusement park, remember?"

"Aha...yes, I do." Cortex lied.

"Well, after that incident, the park ended up shuttin' down anyways. An' look at me now! A full timer with bills and student debt!"

Cortex shrugged. "Yes, yes, may I take my order now."

Pasadena glared at Cortex. "Yes. You may."

"Alrighty then, let's see," said Dr. Cortex. "I'll have a, uh," he said, glancing at Pinstripe.

The mutated potoroo looked up at Cortex from his phone. "The 10 piece McNugget meal. Pepsi."

Pasadena tapped the order into the register. "Anythin' else I can get for ya?" she asked bitterly.

Cortex tapped his chin. "Yes. I'll have one of those, uh, what's it called? Oh, yes. An Impossible Whopper."

"I-" Pasadena sighed. "I'm callin' the manager on ya. I can't deal with this anymore." She stamped off towards the back, tail swishing angrily.

Cortex cackled. "Oh, please. What's the worse they can do? Make the Whopper possible?"

A goth girl with a lowercase "n" on her forehead and a managerial uniform walked up to where Pasadena stood.

"What the- Nina?!" Cortex said. "You're the manager?!"

"And you're giving my employee a tough time, Uncle," she replied. "Why, of all things, did you order the Impossible Whopper? At a McDonald's?" Nina asked, crossing her robotic arms.

He sighed. "Listen, Nina. Remember N. Gin?" Cortex gestured towards the McDonald's playground, where N. Gin was inside, banging on the window within and calling Pinstripe's name. Pinstripe looked up from his phone, and N. Gin waved at him, smiling innocently. The potoroo sighed, looked back at his phone, and reluctantly waved back.

Nina turned back to her uncle. "Your point?"

"It's his birthday today, and I want it to go as smoothly as possible. Including getting whatever I want. Not to mention the golden rule that the customer is always right."

"Clearly you've never worked in retail," Nina scoffed.

Cortex gritted his teeth. "Nina, give me the Impossible Whopper, or I'll-" he lowered his voice.

Nina sighed dramatically. "Fine." She typed a special code into the register. "Don't tell anyone we do this, okay?"

"It'll be our little secret," Cortex smirked.

"Anyways, you gonna order anything else? Especially for that precious scientist of yours?" Nina asked.

Cortex looked back at N. Gin, who had now broken the window of the playground, and then back at the menu. "Well, what's the most popular thing on the menu?"

"We did have this one promotion going for a while, but corporate changed the celebrity endorsement recently. Now it's the Hatsune Miku meal."

"H-Hatsune Miku?" Cortex asked, considering getting one for himself. Then he shook his head. Impossible Whoppers at a McDonald's were too good to pass up. "Uh, yeah, that. For N. Gin."

Nina typed the order in. "Okay, that'll be-"

Pinstripe stormed up to the counter and slammed a fistful of bills onto the counter. "In case money's gonna be a problem tonight. I just wanna go home and watch some goddamn... uh... Boku No Pico. Not Crash Landing On You or some othah K-drama. Fuckin' hate koreaboos."

Cortex and Nina pretended they didn't hear him. "Thank you, your order will be out in a hot minute." She walked out to the back, where a sobbing Pasedena O'Possum was flipping burgers for minimum wage.

Pinstripe and Dr. Cortex exchanged glances. "Really? Boku No Pico? K-dramas?" Cortex asked.

"Said the one who ordered an Impossible Whopper at a McDonald's."

"I- I'm not even going to argue with that. It'd be a waste of time," Cortex said, crossing his arms.

Pinstripe crossed his arms as well. "As if me bein' here ain't a waste of time as is. And havin' to talk normal too. I can't be consistent with that!"

Cortex grabbed Pinstripe's tie, pulled the potoroo towards him, and pointed at the playground. "This is all for him, Pinstripe, and you know it."

"Ah, yes, your bottom."

The scientist choked. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, boss. Everyone knows it."

"I don't even like him that way!" Cortex protested, his yellowness turning red from blushing too hard. "B-Baka!"

"Aight, we got a not-Impossible Whopper, a 10 piece chicken nuggie meal, and a Hatsune Miku meal," Nina announced monotonously.

Cortex grabbed the tray and headed towards the table. Pinstripe reluctantly went outside to grab N. Gin.

When the three were settled, Cortex passed around the food. "Alright, let's eat," he said.

As if on cue, all three bit into their food all at once.

Pinstripe had seemingly no reaction.

Cortex felt his chest expand a bit, but was otherwise fine, and kept eating.

And then N. Gin took a bite from his Hatsune Miku burger.

Chapter Text

It was like experiencing every color on the spectrum come alive everywhere. Through N. Gin's eyes, mouth, even his bellybutton or something. He could see all possible realities. Travel across dimensions. Everything around him was spinning and swirling but also still.

Then it went black.

A muffled fanfare echoed across his ears, followed by a garbled sound.

"Forgive me," N. Gin responded. He noticed that his voice was in a higher pitch. "Uh... what are you saying?"

"...in... in... in...!"

"IN? IN WHAT?!" N. Gin screamed. "PLEASE ANSWER ME, O DIVINE VOICE!"

Silence.

"Di... ine... ake... u..."

"WHAT?"

Suddenly an invisible force grabbed N. Gin's shoulders and shook him like a maraca.

"N. GIN!" Cortex's voice screamed as the unconscious scientist was shooken. Shooken? Shook? "WAKE UP!"

The darkness disintegrated, revealing the ceiling of the McDonald's restaurant. Cortex, Pinstripe, Nina, and Pasadena were all at the edge of his vision.

"Oh good, he's still alive," said Nina. "Should we still call the ambulance?"

"If we do, I think he'll be sent to a nuthouse anyways," Pasadena mumbled, walking off in defeat.

Cortex sighed and looked directly into N. Gin's disfigured eyes. "Are you okay?"

"More."

"W- Huh?"

A delirious smile crawled onto the cyborg's face. "N. Gin want more," he giggled.

Pinstripe sighed and pulled out another bill from his pocket. "Get him as many Tracy Scott the Woz burgers as possible with it."

"...Tracy Scott the Woz?" Nina asked. "That's not even the celebrity en-"

"Just get us the burgers," Cortex ordered.

Nina groaned. "I'll get Pasadena, brb."

Dr. Cortex offered his hand to N. Gin and blushed. "What happened?"

"I- I don't know, Master. I took a bite and just... ascended."

"Huh. All I got were bigger bazongas," Cortex said, gesturing towards his chest.

Pinstripe held back the urge to cry.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Ah, great. Now my car is going to smell like cheap food," Pinstripe groaned as they entered his car, arms full of bags containing nothing but Travis Scott meals. "I really hope this just ends up being a ph-"

Cortex gave Pinstripe a death glare. "That should be the least of your concern right now, pp rat. Do you not remember these?" Again, the scientist gestured towards his expanded chest.

"Just- just stop, 'kay? Droppin' the accent is painful enough as is," Pinstripe gagged as he started up the car.

N. Gin laid in the backseat, swarmed by hot bags of the food. He reached into one of the bags.

"Eat so much as a French fry and I'll make ye walk home," Pinstripe snapped.

The cyborg retracted his hand.

"Now, step on the gas," Cortex commanded, and turned to N. Gin. "Anything else for tonight?"

N. Gin shook his head, with his rocket remaining stationary.

"Alright then, Pinstripe, step on it," Cortex commanded. "I got some newfound mounds to deal with."

"And you wonder why I don't show up often," Pinstripe murmured as he started up the car.

Chapter Text

The next day came, and everything seemed to go back to normal.

Especially in the case of Cortex, who continued his daily routine, including taking a nice, long, and steamy shower.

"Honestly, I think ordering that Impossible Whopper was the best decision I've ever made," he said as he got in. Its effects definitely took place, but not enough to where it was noticeable at first glance. He turned on the hot water, stepped inside the shower, and slid the glass door shut. Steam began to fog up the door.

A few moments later, he began to sing as he scrubbed himself clean. "Scheming, streaming, test your IQ. We've got a lobby waiting for you~"

Cortex's voice, fueled by passion, carried out throughout the castle.

"Scheming, streaming, what do we do? Who's the imposter? Maybe it's you! What did you see when the body was found?"

Cortex could almost hear a second voice singing when he replied "Toast acting sus with no one around~"

"I was in comms, I was with AOC! Oh, don't you dare marinate me!" Cortex continued.

Again, he could almost hear someone say "I don't like the sound of that" with him.

"Scheming, streaming, time to eject! Unanimous vote: DrDis-re-spect!" he belted, landing every note. And he planned to with the next segment. "I-"

He turned to the glass door, where the fog faded. N. Gin's face was pressed up against the glass.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Cortex screamed.

N. Gin stumbled backwards from the screen, screaming as well.

"OH MY G- N. GIN! H-HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN THERE FOR?" Cortex screamed

"I'M SORRY, DOCTAH CORTEZ, YOUR DIVINE VOICE WAS TOO HARD TO RESIST!"

Careful to not reveal too much to the scientist, Cortex slid the door open and poked his head out of the doorway. "Seriously, though, I know there's only one shower here, but you could have waited outside, y'know."

"Oh, I'm not here to shower."

The two stood there, the only sound being the water hitting the shower floor.

"Get out."

"Alright." The cyborg waddled out of the bathroom silently.

Cortex sighed and closed the glass door. "Seriously, doesn't he have a burger to eat, or something?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

He did have a burger to eat. A lot, actually.

The scientist gnawed on a fry dipped in the Sacred Sankyu Sauce, as he called it, taking in his surroundings.

Bags upon bags of McDonald's laid scattered N. Gin's lab, filled and empty alike. He could still see the floor, however.

Plus that patch of grass growing at the end of his line of vision.

"Hm?" N. Gin mused, rising from his lab bench. "Since when did-"

He was on the grass now. It's like it had always been there.

N. Gin looked up to see a hazy purple sky surrounding him.

"Where am I?"

He noticed a single string floating in front of him. No, a chain.

He had to get it.

The scientist began to trudge towards it. His arms felt heavier than bags of potatoes, slowly sinking into the grass beneath him.

Something was sitting on his lungs as he got closer to the chain. The dirt. The abyss beneath him.

He pulled the chain.

His vision was flooded with a blinding light, causing him to scream and cover his eyes. The sudden force knocked him down, which in term snapped him out of the reality plane he was in.

He was in his lab again, surrounded by bags of McDonald's.

He didn't know what to do other than get up and act as though it never happened.

Chapter Text

"Happy 8 AM, sports fans!"

Two chickens, dressed as news reporters, stood outside a series of buildings, all housing different restaurants and fast food joints.

One of the chickens, who had short, red wattles on his head, sighed. "Stew, for the last time, they canceled the CTR block until further notice," he said, his tone very dry. The mutated chicken turned back to the camera. "We're just news now."

"Well, Chick, I ain't got a problem with that," Stew replied. Stew smoothed his tall curl blue hair and gave a thumbs up to the camera. "Just like with today's morning news!"

"Yes, let's get right into the news," Chick replied. "Folks, today marks the beginning of the end for the ever-popular Hatsune Miku meal at this here McDonald's location."

"That's right, Chick. I gotta get my feathers on one of those burgers before it's too late. I hear it's better than my favorite item: the chicken McNuggets!"

Chick raised his eyebrow. "You... eat the chicken McNuggets?"

"Yeah?"

The duo stood in silence, staring at each other. Lucky for them, a trio walked out of the McDonald's they were standing near. And even luckier, both reporters personally knew them.

"Ah, here are some customers from the place itself! The famous heroes and racers alike: Crash, Coco, and... some other guy," Chick said, a bit of desperation in his voice. "Excuse me, you three there! Do you care to give us a few words on what you're eating this beautiful morning?" He directed his mic towards a young, female bandicoot.

"Well, Chick," she responded, "we got some bacon, egg, and cheese bagels from the breakfast menu. Since, you know, 8 AM."

Another bandicoot, this one larger and buffer, checked his watch. "Coco, mine says 7:58."

The female bandicoot sighed. "You get my point, though, Crunch."

"Have any of you had the recently released Hatsune Miku burger?" Stew asked, leaning his mic towards Coco as well.

She shook her head. "Honestly, we're not burger bandicoots."

"Yeah, we're not even bagel bandicoots," Crunch added. "Usually we just get pancakes."

The third bandicoot, Crash, smiled at the mention of pancakes.

"Yeah, it's our favorite," Coco said.

"I see. Expanding your horizons a bit, aren't we?" Chick asked, then turned back to the camera. "Well, folks, we may not have a live answer now, but I have no doubt that there are hundreds of thousands of people on the Internet praising the meal." The mutated chicken looked at his coworker. "Anything to add to this, Stew?"

The chicken nodded. "I gotta get me one of those burgers myself."

"Isn't the sale ending soon?" Coco asked them.

"Right you are, there, Coco!" Stew replied. "So you better get down here as soon as you can, before time runs out!"

The cameraman lowered the camera. "And we're good."

Chick sighed, relieved. "Oh thank God."

"Man, it's really weird to see you three outside of the racetrack," said Stew. "How're you doing?"

"Well, there hasn't been any trouble caused by evil scientists as of late, so we're fine, and stuff," Coco replied. "But just by saying that, things are gonna be jinxed, aren't they?"

Crash nervously clutched the paper bag that contained the bagels.

"Well, good luck to you, bandicoots. Enjoy your relaxation," said Chick cheerfully. Then his tone became serious. "Believe me, you're going to miss it when it's gone."

Crunch and Coco said their goodbyes, while Crash simply waved, and the trio walked off.

Stew and Chick looked at each other. "Please tell me you were joking about the chicken nuggets," Chick said.

"...do you want to hear the truth or only what you want to hear?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

"We're never trying anything again," Coco groaned, pushing her half-eaten bagel aside.

"Don't beat yourself up over a bagel," Crunch replied. He too had a half-eaten bagel. "Besides, we gotta live a little. Push our boundaries. Makes us stronger."

Coco looked at Crunch in disbelief. "Trust me, Crunch. By now, most of our boundaries don't exist." She looked at where her half-eaten bagel was, only to find that hers and Crunch's were gone, and inside Crash's mouth.

Now they were full-eaten.

"At least one of us likes them," Crunch noted.

Coco said nothing, staring at her smartphone.

"You doing alright?" Crunch asked.

"...there is a risk I guess we could take." She opened up her web browser and typed in two words:

Tawna Bandicoot.

Chapter Text

More time passed. He wasn't sure how much. N. Gin had barely left his room during that time.

By this point, all but one bag of food had been consumed. As time had passed since his birthday, the fast food had gradually declined in quality, and no amount of microwave time could fix what was left.

He didn't care anymore. Nothing mattered but the taste and smell of the Hatsune Miku meal. He'd remove any mold he could find with his personal pocketknife. Granted, though, by this point he didn't clean it, making it to be almost as unsanitary.

Whatever he cut off (which he made sure to do little of, so he could still have anything left to taste) laid dormant inside of the takeout bags used to preserve the food initially. Said bags were scattered around his room carelessly.

The last of these meals had just finished warming up in the microwave, and the scientist quickly removed the burger and fries from it.

N. Gin took the reheated dish and dug into it, first embracing the sensation of the lukewarm burger.

The taste was all he wanted to focus on, and so he did. He chomped and chewed and third verb starting with "ch" and ending with the "-ed" on the burger. He gulped down the room temperature medium Sprite like there was no tomorrow. And he sure as hell dipped those fries in the barbecue sauce.

He didn't even like barbecue sauce.

The mad scientist went to take another bite but noticed he failed to remove more mold from the bread. Sighing, he grabbed his pocketknife and began to carefully remove the mold that should have been gone before.

"Wait... does that mean I ate some of the-?"

He looked up in alarm, but he found himself facing a door that wasn't there before. Behind it was the sound of a live band, while behind him were the sounds of people hustling and bustling about.

"Doctor N. Gin?" one of these voices asked.

"Uh, yes, that's me," he replied, growing nervous.

A tall man with notable, moving pistons attached to his back approached N. Gin, and the latter knew him immediately.

"N. Tropy? What's going on?"

"What is going on is that you are about to enter on the set of Retro Replay. Do you not recall this being scheduled at all?"

The smaller doctor looked at N. Tropy, confused. "I've never heard of- what is-?"

"Please welcome to the stage, Dr. N. Gin!" a voice announced from the other side of the door. He could recognize the voice, but didn't know from where. A round of applause roared from behind the door as well.

N. Tropy gently pushed N. Gin forward, and suddenly he was on a conveyor belt. Terrified, N. Gin turned to him. "You will be fine," N. Tropy told him, before vanishing.

The door opened automatically, and the conveyor belt moved N. Gin forward onto a television stage. An audience of hundreds- no, thousands sat in front of the stage.

And on the stage was a middle-aged brunette man with a baseball cap, sitting behind a desk. "Come on up, my friend," the man said to him.

Baffled, N. Gin did as he asked. A chair emerged via a stage platform, and he sat on it.

"What is this place?" N. Gin asked, then looked at the man. "Who are you?"

Both the man and the audience laughed. "Well, friend, I'm many things: an adventurer, an antihero, a space robot, a cannibal who has a twisted fixation on a minor, and even a fish."

"Wait, a-"

"Yes, I know, the fish thing sounds weird. But I'm also," he said, turning around the cap he was wearing, "Nolan North. You can call me Uncle Noly, if that's cool with you."

N. Gin noticed his cap even said "Uncle Noly Knows". Clearly the cyborg in the chair didn't know, but he was hoping to find out.

"So tell me, N. Gin," Nolan said. "Would you consider yourself to be broke right now?"

"Broke?" He pointed to the missile in his head. "I can't get any more broken than this, so yes!"

Again, Nolan and the audience laughed. "Well, I'd have to disagree with you on that one, but I meant as in money."

"Oh." N. Gin went to scratch his head to think, but found that he too had an "Uncle Noly Knows" hat on him. "Well, I didn't buy the food myself, but I also haven't done anything much as of late. I'm not sure." He looked at Nolan. "Oh, you probably don't know what food I'm talking ab-"

"The Hatsune Miku meal from McDonald's? Yeah I know about that," Nolan replied. "We all do."

N. Gin nervously twiddled his thumbs. "H-How?"

"I didn't mention it before? I'm you. Well, not you. I'm your conscience!"

"I have a middle-aged man who sounds like me living in my brain?"

The audience laughed at this, but Nolan pretended to look offended. "Hey, I'm not THAT old!" The audience laughed some more, and a buzzer went off. "Well, with that, our question round is over. Time to move on to the doogsawsnatitehtfohsarc!"

"The what?"

"The doogsawnatitehtforhsarc!" Nolan repeated, and the studio band played accordingly.

A set of VR goggles lowered from the ceiling and resided in between Nolan and N. Gin.

"Now, N. Gin, it's time for our newest segment. You're gonna be our little lab rat!"

N. Gin looked to see how the audience would react, but when he did, he saw nothing but empty seats. No cameramen, no big band, no producers running around on the set.

Just him, Nolan, and the lights.

"I already know the answer to this, friend, but lemme ask you something," Nolan said. "Past or present?"

N. Gin shifted in his seat, which he now noticed to be a velvet couch. Nolan sat close to him.

"What?"

"With those goggles sitting nicely on that silver platter alllllll the way over there," Nolan said, pointing to the goggles that rested far away from the couch, "past or present?"

He still didn't understand what that meant, but he knew asking a third time would make him look incompetent. And Nolan probably knew that he was thinking he was incompetent.

"Uh, present."

Nolan removed his hat, reached into it, and pulled out swimming goggles. "Put 'em on and watch the magic happen."

Anxious, N. Gin took the goggles from the host and put them on.

He saw nothing.

N. Gin sat in literal darkness, but could hear familiar voices. They were isolated, as if he were inside a box and they were outside of it.

"I TOLD you, Pinstripe," said the voice, "I wanted a small-sized t-shirt saying 'MILF' in all caps! Not an extra small!"

Cortex.

"Why do you even want one to begin with?!"

Pinstripe.

"Because, Pinstripe, it's the new me! I'm starting to really embrace what that Impossible Whopper did. And if- oh. Oh, this actually fits nicely! Thank you, Pinstripe!"

A grumble followed by Italian gibberish came from the potoroo, and N. Gin heard two pairs of footsteps walking away, both in opposite directions. N. Gin noticed, however, he was following one of them.

"It's so nice and snug..."

Cortex.

"Honestly, I haven't felt this good in- actually, I don't think 'good' is something I want to describe myself as. I haven't felt this... happy, since..." Cortex's voice trailed off, and his footsteps slowed into a halt. "Well, ever! I feel comfortable in my own skin, there's no bandicoots meddling with that, and there's no bumbling henchman around to ruin my mood!"

N. Gin felt his heart plummet. He wanted to say something, but was terrified Cortex could hear him.

"I can't believe my luck!" Cortex chuckled. "Oh, maybe I'll even get another Impossible Whopper. Imagine the expanded... possibilities." He laughed again, and continued walking.

The cyborg, angered and upset by his words, removed the goggles, which now resembled regular glasses. Oil was leaking from both of his eyes.

"You're not okay," Nolan said.

"...you knew that would happen, didn't you?" N. Gin asked, no emotion in his voice. He stared at the glasses, ignoring his tears.

Nolan almost fell out of his lawn chair at this. "What, no! I- I promise, I had no idea where that would go!" A platform rose from where the audience chairs once were. On this platform sat several men behind a desk. "And if you don't believe me, check in with our panellists."

N. Gin looked at the men carefully. The four of them stared back at him.

"Even you, Corey," Nolan said, pointing at one of them. "Don't think I got over wanting to mud wrestle you earlier."

The table suddenly transported in between Nolan and N. Gin, both sitting in their electric recliners.

One of the men, whose nametag read "Brendan", cleared his throat. "I'm so sorry that happened."

"Aaaare- Aaaare youuuu aaaall aaaalso liiiike Noooolaaaan?" N. Gin asked, his voice vibrating along with the chair.

Another, named Quinton, shrugged. "Kinda sorta, yeah."

"We do tend to shuffle around a bit, and are always looking for another one to join us," Corey replied, before glaring at Nolan. "It's supposed to be my turn."

"You had your chance and blew it," Nolan shrugged. "Now I'm the big guy in charge."

The fourth man raised his hand. "C-Can I go home now?"

"Lex, we're busy having an important council discussion right now-" Quinton started.

"Yeah, actually, may I go home too? Please?" N. Gin asked. "I'm not sure how much more I can take of this."

Then, all five of the men placed their hands on the cyborg, who began to hyperventilate. "Oh, N. Gin," they all said in unison. "You've been taking so much for all these years. What's stopping you now?"

N. Gin screamed, and suddenly he was in his room again.

But he wasn't screaming from his mold-induced trip.

He had cut his hand with his pocketknife.

Chapter Text

"Hello?" Coco asked, clutching her phone close to her left ear. She gestured for her siblings to come closer.

A gap came from the other line. "Coco? Is that you?"

"Yeah, I'm here with Crash and Crunch. Well, you probably don't know much about Crunch, but we're here anyways."

"Oh my g- It's been so long since-!" the voice stammered. "I-I'm just so happy to talk to you again. I'm sorry I haven't been contacting you guys."

Coco sighed, her breath noticeably hitching. "It's okay, Tawna. We missed you, too."

"I can't talk long, though, I have a photoshoot in a bit," Tawna added.

The young bandicoot girl's eyes lit up. "Oh, really? What's it for? Can we see them when you're done?"

"Oh- No! No, sorry, it's-" Tawna stammered. "I don't think it'd be... appropriate for you all."

Coco nodded, while Crunch and Crash shrugged at each other. "I gotcha," Coco told Tawna. "Hey, how about we meet up sometime for lunch, or something?"

"I'll pay," Tawna insisted quickly. "It's the least I can do for you guys right now."

"Thank you. Can we meet here at the house? Like old times?"

"As long as it didn't form mutated legs and walked away from its original spot, I know how to get there," she joked. "I'll be there tomorrow morning for brunch."

Coco looked at her brothers, who were still listening in on the conversation. She flashed them a thumbs up, and they returned the gesture. "Great, it's settled then. We'll see you tomorrow, and good luck."

"Thanks."

Both bandicoots hung up, and Coco put her phone in her pocket. "I honestly thought she'd end up doing that kind of work."

"What kind?" Crunch asked.

Coco looked at him and Crash, unsure of what to say. "I'm sure she could explain it better than I could."

"Ohhhh," was the noise that came from Crash's mouth in response.

The trio stood in the living room awkwardly.

"...does anyone wanna watch the news?" Coco suggested.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Look at what I found in the news~" Cortex sing-songed, shoving a tablet into Pinstripe's face.

"I wish I was Jared, 19, so that I couldn't read what you're showin' me."

Cortex pulled the tablet back. "There's been a stock market boost related to OnlyFans! Do you know what that means?"

"Yeah, that sex workers are thankfully still able to get by during these- wait, youse made an account to post pics of yourself, didn't ya?" His tone fell flat. "Dis is why I don't interact much with you guys."

"Can you commit to the bit when it comes to losing your accent?!" Cortex snapped, then sighed. "Sorry, sorry. Hormones. But hey, now we're going to be rolling in the dough! I can give you that raise you've always wanted!"

Pinstripe looked at Cortex in confusion. "Y'know that the market could change at any time, right? Besides, how much have you made on your own? Stock has nothing to do with your current earnings, unless you're somethin' like a shareh-" His tone fell flat again. "Okay, you are getting WAY too invested into this."

"Well, sorry that I'm making a BOATLOAD of cash while also taking pictures of MYSELF that I actually like, and am selling subscriptions of my images to COMPLETE STRANGERS online to feel good about myself!" Cortex snapped. "How much money have YOU been making lately?"

The potoroo grumbled and turned on the news.

"...amrock Shake is back at McDonald's," Chick Gizzard Lips's voice announced from the 4K television setup. "I cannot believe it's that time of year again."

"Man, me neither," Stew agreed. "And that brings us to the next story: months after the closure of the Hatsune Miku meal, scalpers have been making thousands off of reselling these burgers to the general public."

Chick looked ashamed. "Truly, we have sunken to a new low in the realm of fast food."

"Youse got dat right..." Pinstripe mumbled.

"Lemme tell you, Chick," Stew said. "If my favorite grocery store stopped selling my favorite rotisserie chickens out of nowhere one day, I'd be in the exact same position as those poor souls! Scrounging around on the dark web and inside lone alleyways just for the sweet taste of cooked meat melting in their mouth!"

Chick blinked, stunned. "Why wouldn't you just get some from another st- that's not even the question I should be asking right n-" he turned to the camera. "Cut to commercial, I am begging you."

Soon an advert for Raid: Shadow Legends began playing as if nothing happened.

"How do those two even have jobs?" a voice spoke from behind Cortex and Pinstripe. They both turned around and faced N. Brio.

"I think the better question to ask would be why are you still here?" Cortex asked. "I thought you hated me."

N. Brio shrugged. "The b-best villains never pay for their own Netflix subscr-cription."

"That's true," Cortex sighed. "I've been leaching off of those wretched bandicoots for nearly a year, and they have yet to realize this."

A crash came from the kitchen. "Is someone else there?" Cortex asked. "I-If it's one of the bandicoots, I was joking about the Netflix subscription!"

"I just- nothing!"

"Oh, it's just N. Gin," N. Brio said in a monotone voice. "I thought it'd b-be somebody important."

The short scientist stepped out of the kitchen, a bandage wrapped around his hand.

"Look who's decided to finally come out after months of isolation," Pinstripe noted. "Good for you, eh?"

"...months?"

"Yes, months!" Cortex echoed. "What have you been doing that whole time?!"

N. Gin darted his eyes nervously. "Sleeping."

"And?" Cortex asked.

"....and eating."

Cortex crossed his arms. "N. Gin, have you been eating those Travis Scott Meals this whole time?"

Silence.

"Am I talking to myself, N. Gin, or did you-"

"YOU CAN'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!" N. Gin screamed, then ran back to his lab, locking the door behind him. Cortex noticed the cyborg was clutching his wounded hand.

The taller scientist looked at N. Brio and Pinstripe, desperate for conversation. Pinstripe was staring at the television as if his life depended on it.

N. Brio crossed his arms. "Y'know, a-as much as I hate him, I'll give him this: he can freely sp-s-speak his mind."

"He literally has no filter, of course he speaks his mind freely," Cortex quipped. "Besides, I don't let anyone tell me what to do, either. Why don't I get any praise for it?"

N. Brio rolled his eyes. Cortex didn't see this, however, as his phone was ringing, and he picked it up.

"Yes, you've reached OnlyFans celebrity Doctor Neo Cortex. I'm sorry, I don't do phone s-"

"Did you even look at who was calling you?!" a girl's voice came from the other line.

Cortex felt his face flush from embarrassment. "Oh, N-Nina! Forget I said anything."

"No, that's why I'm calling. Delete your OnlyFans, now."

"What?!" Cortex replied. "Why?! How do you even know about it- y'know, before I told you?"

She sighed. "Have you seen the news lately?"

Cortex looked back at Pinstripe and the television set. "I was."

"...call me back after you do." The line went dead. Neo abided by her words and listened to what he was seeing.

Chick and Stew now sat further apart from each other. "Well, viewers, we have two connecting headlines for you all," Chick greeted. His usual sarcastic manner was noticeably a little shaky. "Previously, we have reported on OnlyFans stock recently going up."

"Yes!" Cortex cheered.

"Which has now, unfortunately, dropped significantly, after reports of a cyberattack that has effectively stolen hundreds of thousands of dollars from its users, for reasons we have yet to know."

Cortex dropped his phone, which nearly shattered the screen.

"Reports have shown that among the affected include our own Tawna Bandicoot, who was among the most popular according to a recent survey," Chick continued.

"Speakin' of popularity and OnlyFans is our other highlight," Stew added, his tone the same as usual, "another known resident of the Wumpa Islands has made his debut on the app, which has turned him both profitable and a subject of mockery."

Pinstripe looked at Cortex. "Gee, I wonder who it is," he said sarcastically.

Dr. Cortex played it casually. "I do, too."

"Doctor Neo Cortex, seen here donning an extra-small shirt saying 'MILF' in all-caps, has taken the internet by storm," Stew continued. "That is, for better or for worse. Probably worse."

Screenshots of tweets filled the screen. "Thousands of Twitter users have taken to the platform, calling his latest stunt a, quote, 'new low for someone who's bottom-leveled already.'" Cortex noticed the tweet in question came from N. Trance's Twitter.

"At least I'm relevant," he grumbled.

"I think I'm speaking on the behalf of all Gasmoxians when I say that if we eradicated Earth back in the 90's, this would have never happened," a green alien spoke into a news microphone. "It's not too late to beg, you know."

Cortex didn't even attempt to respond. Pinstripe turned to Cortex, sighing. "Shall I turn off the TV?"

"Please."

The screen went black.

Neo bent over and picked up his cracked phone. He opened his contacts and called Nina.

"Thanks for ruining the Cortex name," she greeted. "Now I either have to change my association with it, or restore it to its former glory."

"No, I did this, Nina," Cortex groaned, pressing his palm against his forehead in shame. "So I need to fix it."

Nina scoffed. "That'll save me a lot of time. You better take care of it soon. Evil Public School does things to you that no villain should have to go through, and I can't make it worse for myself."

"Oh, so this is about you, then?"

"Yes and no. Besides, between the two of us, who's the skank now?" She laughed to the point of snorting. "Now hurry up." Again, the line went dead.

Cortex threw his phone onto the ground, shattering the device.

"That insolent-!" he began, then looked at the scattered pieces of his defunct device. "No, no I'm at the one at fault."

"So what're you gonna do now that the consequences for your actions have caught up to ya?" Pinstripe asked.

Cortex looked up at his reluctantly loyal henchman. "We have one of two options: either create a machine that will remove the bazoingas, or I leave it to the professionals and get top surgery. Either way, it's going to be costly."

"Jus' leave it to the doctors. I'll make the appointment for ya, you just-" Pinstripe began. "Oh, wait, you destroyed your phone."

"I can just use my supercomputer," Cortex shrugged. "I'll take the money I earned on my OnlyFans and..." his voice trailed off. "Wait, people got robbed! I could be people!"

The scientist bolted out of the living room, eventually making it to his laboratory. He didn't bother to shut the door behind him as he logged into his OnlyFans account.

But his earnings were safe. Not a penny lost. If anything, it was larger than when he last saw it.

"Thank goodness it's enough to get the surgery and still have enough to get a victory meal," he said to himself, "but why was I spared? Who raided this thing?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Without hesitation, he clicked on the "purchase" option. And within seconds, he was notified that it was a success.

"Finally... it was difficult to obtain all that OnlyFans cash, but it was worth it."

The monitor turned off. He saw his own reflection: shaggy dark blue hair, teeth barely brushed, and eyes baggy and smudged from eyeliner.

Or, rather, eye.

"I can finally devour my beloved Hatsune Miku meal once more," N. Gin told his reflection, sneering.

Chapter Text

"Thank you for the escort, Aku Aku," Tawna said as the two approached a small hut residing near an island beach. Dark clouds were gathering around them. "I'm happy we weren't bombarded on the way here."

"If I am to retreat from my slumber to help a friend, it's no issue." Aku Aku replied. "I'm sorry it's come to this for you."

Tawna rossed her arms, holding them close to her. "Yes, well, I'm safe here, for now." She looked at the door to the hut. "So let's not think about that for now." She uncrossed her arms and knocked. "Just for the next few seconds, at least."

The door quickly swung open, as if on cue. Crash, Coco, and Crunch all stood on the other side.

"Did you guys make it safely?" Crunch asked.

"Of course," Aku Aku replied. "We can talk inside. It's supposed to rain soon."

The four bandicoots nodded in agreement, and the siblings stood aside so that Tawna and Aku Aku could go inside.

As soon as the door closed, Crash and Coco gave Tawna a big, group hug. She was taken aback for a moment, but hugged them back. The bandicoot didn't realize exactly how much she had missed her old friends.

Tawna looked up at Crunch, the outlier. She gently removed her hand from Coco's back and gestured for him to join them, to which he did.

She began to sniffle. "I'm sorry," she began. "I'm sorry for i-ignoring you all, I never forgot, but I-"

"Tawna don't apologize," Coco responded. She hugged Tawna back, and was trying to fight her own tears. "We should be apologizing right now. Y-You're the one who lost their money."

Tawna sobbed, only to choke it back. "Wait, how- how do you know about that?"

"The news," Coco said. She looked up at Tawna, who by this point had mascara smudged on her face. "Do you wanna s-sit down? Want a snack, or something?"

The older girl nodded, and the hug broke.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I just don't know how they did it," Tawna sighed. She sipped her Earl Grey tea, which helped her relax. "One moment I'm wrapping up a photoshoot and posting them, the next, all of my money is gone."

Crunch set an enormous bowl of popcorn onto the middle of their coffee table. "That's rough. Real rough."

"I didn't think about it until on my way here, but can you- no, it'd be asking too much," Tawna murmured. "Especially with the content-"

"Tawna, I can trace the IP address of whoever took the money," Coco assured. "If the content you post catches my eye, it's a small price to pay for your monetary salvation."

Crunch, Crash, and Aku Aku looked at Tawna. "Crunch'll, uh, leave you two alone," the buff bandicoot said awkwardly.

"Yes, Crunch, the three of us will all leave them alone," Aku Aku echoed awkwardly. "Let's see if we left anything outside before it gets worse." The trio silently left the hut, closing the door behind them.

Tawna sighed and entered her phone's passcode. "If it's for the sake of this situation," she said, handing the device over to Coco.

The young mutant's thumbs immediately went to work, practically flying across the screen. Tawna was still shocked by Coco's prowess, despite knowing she had it in her.

"So," Coco said, as if she weren't doing anything at all. "Anyone you know on the app experience the same thing?"

"Well, not that I know of," Tawna replied. "The Nitro Squad have offered to let me stay at any of their houses until I recover my funds, or at least earn them back. And, you know, am safe again."

Coco nodded. "I got good news for you, then. You likely won't have to stay for long." She held up the phone. "The IP address traces back to someplace we know all too well."

Tawna gasped. "You can't be serious..."

"Gimme a moment," Coco said. She typed once more, and then stopped. "Well, it's not from Cortex."

The taller blonde exhaled. "That helps... sort of. Is it Pinstripe? I knew I shouldn't have hooked up with him before."

"No, it's someone I'm more familiar wi-"

The door opened. Crash, Crunch, and Aku Aku entered, drenched from the rain. "Yeah, we shouldn't have come out there for that long," Crunch said. Crash bumbled something incomprehensible.

"Any luck?" Aku Aku asked.

"The hacker in question is N. Gin."

Thunder rumbled outside.

Crash, either out of determination or fear of the weather, clenched his fists.

"I can't say I'm surprised," said Aku Aku. "We have to do something."

"What, are you just going to beat him senselessly?" Tawna asked.

Crash raised his fist, wanting to say something, but then lowered it.

"Anti-climactic, but it's what must be done," Tawna said, then faced her ex. "Crash, I believe in you."

He offered her his hand, and they shook them. She almost missed the feeling of holding his hand.

"I'm coming too," Coco insisted.

"What?!" Crunch asked. "Then who's gonna stay here with Tawna?" He looked at Aku Aku. "Are you okay with her going off like that?"

Aku Aku's entire body moved similar to how a head nods. "Yeah?"

"You can watch me. I don't mind," Tawna said. "It'll give us time to really get to know each other."

"So it's settled, then," said Coco.

The reincarnated mask hovered towards the window. "It's starting to lighten up out there. Let's head out."

Crash and Coco quickly gave Tawna and Crunch each a hug, and left the hut with Aku Aku.

Crunch looked at Tawna. "So... what do you like?"

"Women."

He nodded. "Understandable, but I meant as in games. Movies. Something. "

"Oh, I don't play games, but I'm interested in them. Why, what do you have?"

Crunch turned on their PS5 and handed Tawna a controller. "Tawna, let the Crunch introduce you to one of the greatest games of all time: Fortnite."

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

N. Tropy looked at his chest, sighed, and entered the bedroom. "Cortex, it's time to get ready for your top surgery."

Cortex grumbled something and got up from his bed.

"Honestly, this entire situation has been nothing short of embarrassing, but this," he said, gesturing towards his own chest. "Why make me your personal alarm clock?"

The smaller scientist looked at N. Tropy directly in the eyes. "Are you serious? Have you even looked at yoursel- you're COVERED in clocks! Why wouldn't I use you as such?"

"Because you have so many devices that can easily serve that purpose."

"You should be ready for your appointment in ten minutes," N. Tropy continued, ignoring his colleague. "Pinstripe has already received this information." Before Cortex could say anything else, N. Tropy left the room.

Neo slipped on his old clothes. He had already ditched his MILF shirt the night before. Cortex sighed and looked at himself in the mirror. "I'm gonna miss having these."

He turned around and left his room. The man strolled down the hallway, passing by several rooms.

Cortex stopped outside of N. Gin's. He remembered what his partner had did the night before, and part of him wanted to reach out before he left. The mad scientist raised his fist to knock on the door.

"Ey, boss, we're gonna be late," Pinstripe's voice came from behind him.

"Oh, right, yes," said Cortex. He lowered his fist. "Lead the way, then."

The two walked away from the closed door.

N. Gin sat on the other side of it, desperately listening for their footsteps to become out of earshot.

"Today's the day."

Chapter Text

"What in the-?!" Aku Aku gasped. The trio had arrived at Cortex Castle, only to find themselves standing behind a hoard of reporters and bystanders. Cameras clicked and flashed, and the sound of their voices clashed together.

Crash, Coco, and Aku Aku silently but collectively decided to maneuver their way through the crowd to reach the door.

The crowd began to take notice of the trio and tried to turn their conversations towards them.

"...guess they wanted to get in on the action," someone behind them mused into a microphone. "How scandalous for someone like the young Coco Bandicoot."

"Eugh," Coco retched. "Never."

Crash watched Coco focus her gaze onto the ground. He gently touched his sister's shoulder, and when she looked at Crash, he gave her a comforting smile. She smiled back, and the two walked onwards, with Crash holding her closer to him.

"I'm guessing they're all here because of Cortex's OnlyFans," Aku Aku said as the three managed to approach the door.

Coco kept her back turned from the reporters. "So many of them, too..." she mumbled. "How desperate can you get for a news article?"

The door bursted open, and Dr. N. Tropy stood in the doorway. "For the last time, Neo Periwinkle Cortex is not here!" he shouted towards the reporters. "He has left already!" He noticed the bandicoots standing in front of him and sighed. "I am not going to bother asking why you three have come."

Crash turned and noticed that the reporters were already getting into their cars and driving away. He squeezed Coco's shoulder.

"Thanks, Crash," she told him, and then looked at N. Tropy. "Is he really gone?"

"Yes, though frankly I'd rather tell you this than those half-brained individuals that came before you did." N. Tropy pressed his thumb and index finger onto the bridge of his nose. "Come in. It's complicated, and I don't want to further risk any strangers finding this out."

Aku Aku hovered between Crash and Coco. "If you so much as lay a finger on them..." he warned.

"Right now I call a truce," N. Tropy said. "We're equally appalled at what's been going on. And with you being the ones who beat Cortex into submission, it's only fair you get the whole story on our- I mean, your enemy."

The bandicoots and mask looked at each other for a moment. "Well, all right then," said Coco. "Let's go in."

N. Tropy held the door open for the three as they entered, and slammed it shut as soon as they stepped in. "Follow me," he told them. "We must get out of earshot."

The four made their way down the corridor, passing door after numerous doors.

"Cortex is on his way to his top surgery operation as we speak," N. Tropy said as they continued to walk.

"Wait, those things were real?" Aku Aku asked. "I just thought it was a publicity stunt! H-How did he get those?!"

N. Tropy sighed but kept his pace up. "Several months ago, he, N. Gin, and Pinstripe went to a McDonald's, for N. Gin's birthday. I believe Cortex got an Impossible Whopper."

"...at a McDonald's?" Coco asked.

"That should be the least of our problems," N. Tropy said. "Ever since then, the estrogen in those burgers fueled both Cortex's chest and ego. Though I'm guessing his actions are why you have all come here, correct?"

Crash shook his head no.

"Well, actually, no," said Coco. "It's about Tawna."

N. Tropy rubbed his oddly-shaped beard. "I believe I'm familiar with her. Why Tawna, exactly?"

"You didn't hear the news?" Aku Aku asked. "It's been viral."

"I don't care much for the mainstream," N. Tropy scowled. "Unless it is vital for me to understand, such as with Cortex's situation, I would rather keep busy with the distant pasts and future alike."

Coco groaned. "Yeah, okay, before you go on a whole rant on how you're so quirky and not like the other girls, and stuff, Tawna also has an OnlyFans, like Cortex."

"And?"

"Her funds were stolen recently. And I've traced the hacker's steps to Cortex Castle," Coco explained. "Specifically, from N. Gin."

N. Tropy was shocked at this. "Oh. I thought he was... y'know." His right wrist limped.

Crash looked at N. Tropy's limped hand and then his own, curious. It was almost wholesome enough to bring laughter to an otherwise grim situation.

Almost.

"I think he just needed the money for something," Aku Aku suggested. "Think about it. I mean, he likes women too, but he's much more interested in computing, mechanics, and making shitty music."

Everyone nodded in agreement.

"Well, there's only one way to find out what he's been up to," N. Tropy said. He began marching onwards again, and the trio followed him.

They passed by a table where several of Crash's past antagonists sat, card game set on the table, with each one awkwardly looking at them. The trio, in turn, stood and did the same.

"Interesssssting," Komodo Joe mused. "I did not expect to sssssee you here asssss guestsssss."

Koala Kong nodded in agreement, unsure how to follow up.

N. Brio, on the other hand, did, and got up from his seat. "What are you th-th-three doing here?"

"Helping," N. Tropy asserted. "More than you ever have."

"I-I- you, I-" N. Brio stammered. "I'm not even going to argue with you on that one." He crossed his arms bitterly. "I don't c-care who you're going after anymore. C-Crash. Coco. Give them hell."

Crash smiled and gave N. Brio a thumbs up. Coco sighed and gently pushed her big brother along.

It didn't take long for them to come upon N. Gin's door, which was closed shut.

"Oh, right, I suppose I should mention before going in," N. Tropy said, his voice low. "Ever since that visit to McDonald's, he has practically been a shut in. He's rarely ever come out of that room. From what I've heard, last time he did, it was for bandages. He seemed distressed."

"Distressed?" Coco asked. "I mean, isn't he always?"

"From what I know, he snapped at Cortex and dipped as fast as he came. He was in a panic just from being given attention. Concerns, even."

The bandicoots looked at each other, scared. They knew he was mentally unstable, but on this level?

"If you lock us in that room with him-" Aku began.

"Yes, yes, you'll have my head stuffed and mounted to a wall," N. Tropy droned. "But I myself have been a bit concerned for him as well. Perhaps he'd be more willing to reason with me. Before, of course, you give him his just desserts." He put his hand on the door handle. "Ready on your word."

Crash felt a presence behind him, and turned to find each person who was at the table standing behind them as well.

N. Tropy followed Crash's gaze and sighed. "Too many people would likely make things worse."

The group grumbled and returned to their table.

"I think we're good," said Aku Aku.

The doctor opened the door. N. Gin's room was very dim and smelled terribly. Crash gagged as soon as the scent hit his nostrils.

"We most certainly need this room to be tidied," N. Tropy grumbled. "N. Gin? It's Doctor Nefarious Tropy, plus three. We'd just like to have a word with you," he called into the darkness.

No response.

"Start looking for him or his source computer," N. Tropy whispered to the trio, and they split up. Nefarious began to walk further away from the door. "N. Gin, we've been worried sick about you. Please, don't be afraid."

The only sounds that came were from the bandicoots wandering around the room. Coco gravitated more towards the computers. Though more likely for the source of the stolen funds, N. Tropy couldn't help but smirk.

"Like creator, like subject," he mused. "Come out, N. Gin! It's alright!"

He waited a few seconds before slamming his tuning fork.

"WHERE ARE YOU, YOU LITTLE SHIT?!" N. Tropy snapped.

"I found the computer!" Coco whispered. "I'll send the f..." her voice trailed off.

N. Tropy rushed to her side. "What? What's wrong?"

"It's all gone."

The two stared at the screen in disbelief. Behind them, Crash and Aku Aku approached them, shocked by the sight as well.

"We can't find him," Aku Aku said.

"...he took the money and left," Coco muttered.

Crash gasped.

"He must have found some way to time his exit with the entrance of the paparazzi," N. Tropy suggested. "Where would he even go?"

"I don't know," Coco replied. Her phone suddenly buzzed. She reached down, opened the lockscreen, and stared at it for a second. The girl then gasped.

Aku Aku hovered over her shoulder. "What is it?"

"What? Oh, no, somebody kicked my ass in Game of War."

"Was it the Legend27?" Aku Aku asked.

N. Tropy resisted the urge to scream.

Chapter Text

The gold Ferrari sped faster down the dirt road. "I think we lost 'em," Pinstripe said as he rolled his window back up. He glanced at his rear view  mirror for a brief moment before continuing onwards.

Cortex, who was lying down to avoid the paparazzi, rose. "Oh thank fuck," he murmured. "Seriously, of all the times the media obsesses over me, why now? Why this? When I'm finally happy?"

"Because it's weird, Cortex. It's really fucking weird when a grown-ass man grows a pair of bazongas from a fake hamburger," Pinstripe snapped.

"You're part of the problem too!" Cortex added. "What part of me having a shred of self-confidence bothers you?! I'm not trans, but do you feel this exact way about them?!"

"Hell no! Trans people are real and valid!" Pinstripe yelled back. "But it's when you start prancing around and embarrass everyone around you that-"

"EMBARASS?!" Cortex screamed. "YOU WANNA TALL EMBARASSMENT?! DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY TIMES THAT MY FRIENDS AND I HAVE WALKED IN ON YOU IN THE MIDDLE OF YOU AND YOUR EX-GIRLFRIEND SMOOCHING IT UP?!"

Pinstripe slammed the brakes. "YOU DO NOT GET TO SLANDER TAWNA LIKE THAT."

"I JUST DID."

A car horn blasted from in front of them. Pinstripe realized that while they were arguing, he steered the car into the middle of the road.

"OH, GREAT!" Cortex exclaimed. "YOUR LITTLE HISSY FIT IS CAUSING A TRAFFIC JAM!"

"Wait, Doctor Cortex?" a muffled voice exclaimed from the car in front of them.

Cortex and Pinstripe froze.

"I recognize that voice," Cortex said, "but I just don't know from where."

Pinstripe unlocked the car's doors. "I'm only getting out of the car out of curiosity. If they beat you down, I'm not having your back."

"Yes, I figured," Cortex snapped. The two stepped out of the car and came face-to-face with an anthropomorphic possum.

Pasadena O'Possum.

"May I ask why you're speedin' on over?" she asked bitterly. "Are ya back to worsen the reputation of our McDonald's?"

Cortex looked over her shoulder, and then further upwards. The iconic McDonald's logo rested on top of a tall, thick, black poll not too far from them. Doctor Cortex noticed the lights on the sign were off. "I thought you were open 24/7."

"We had to change our hours 'cause we kept bein' bombarded by your fans and haters alike," Pasadena explained. "Actually, a lot of things changed. Even the staff." She tapped her chin. "Come to think of it, yer niece was the first to go."

"Nina quit because of me?" Cortex asked, shocked and hurt by the news. "She had such a promising career of bossing around high schoolers and single parents working on minimum wage." He clenched his fist. "And who's the manager now? I'll have to remember the next time I get a heap of pickles on my pickle-less burger."

She smirked, and Cortex's fist unclenched. "Oh, you have GOT to be joking! You?!"

"Mhm!" Pasadena crossed her arms. "Just finished closin' up for the night, actually, wit' ol' Von Clutch over here!"

On cue, the car door opened, and a small, green cyborg stepped out. "Ah! Dochter Cohrtex!" he cried out, in a thick German accent. "Was zur hölle are you doing here?"

"On my way to get surgery, thank you very much," Cortex replied. "Don't worry, my beautiful body won't bring swarms to your pathetic franchise for much longer."

"Clearly he hasn't heard of the BTS meal coming bald," Von Clutch.

Pinstripe's jaw dropped. "Not to get involved in the conversation or anything, but what?!"

"Ja, zey are releasing it soon," Von Clutch said somberly. "Next month is gonna be furchtbar."

Cortex screamed in agony. "SPEAK ENGLISH! PLEASE! DOES ANYONE HERE SPEAK NORMAL, EASY TO UNDERSTAND ENGLISH?!"

"OH MY G- THAT'S SO RUDE OF YOU TO SAY!" Pasadena screamed back.

"I KNOW! I'M A VILLAIN! I'M SUPPOSED TO BE RUDE!"

Dr. Cortex, Pasadena O'Possum, and Von Clutch began to loudly argue with each other. Pinstripe, on the other hand, pulled out his phone and opened the Twitter app resting on his home page.

"Say ONE MORE THING ABOUT ME," Cortex threatened, "and my trusted bodyguard will finish you both o-" he noticed the potoroo on his phone. "Wow, you really don't care do you?" the doctor asked, walking towards Pinstripe.

The anthropomorphic marsupial immediately jerked his phone out of Cortex's reach, the same way anyone would when their parents wanted to invade their privacy. However, his plan backfired, as Cortex managed to catch a glimpse of the screen. "Were you going to start a Twitter thread on how I'm problematic?" he demanded.

"What? No!" Pinstripe snapped. "I have a life outside of my job, y'know!"

"Does that life include cute, dancin' Koreans?" Pasadena asked, pointing at Pinstripe's phone.

Cortex stared at Pasadena in disbelief. "Wait what?"

"Y'know how Twitter recommends users in your area sometimes?"

"I use Facebook. I mean, it's called something else now, but really, who gives a shit."

"Of course you would use- never mind," Pasadena sighed. "Well, Pinstripe's account is mostly just fancams of different K-pop groups- guys n' gals alike."

The doctor turned to Pinstripe silently and threateningly slow. "Th-"

"I HAVE A LIFE OUTSIDE OF WORKING FOR YOU!" Pinstripe yelled. "PUTTING ON THIS STUPID ACCENT TO HIDE MY REAL ONE IS ENOUGH WORK AS IS! IS IT SO WRONG THAT AFTER A LONG DAY OF YOUR BULLSHIT I WANT TO WATCH MY PRECIOUS JUNGKOOK FLEX HIS GOLDEN PIPES?"

"I DON'T CARE WHAT THE JUNGLE BOOK SAYS!" Cortex began, only for his own phone to start ringing. He unlocked the phone and saw the contact name.

It was N. Tropy.

"Oh great," Cortex moaned. He walked away from the trio, accepted the call and held his free hand against the corresponding ear so he could hear better. "What happened?"

"Good morning. I'm here with the bandicoots and Aku Aku," Tropy greeted.

Cortex gasped. "Here as in captured? But that's my j-"

"SILENCE!"

Neo sighed. 'Nobody wants me to speak today,' he thought.

"It's too long of a story to explain why they're here, but we have spent the past several minutes searching for your bottom."

"N. GIN IS NOT MY BOTTOM! OH MY F- WHY DOES EVERYONE HATE ME TODAY?! NO, HATE ME EVER?!" Cortex screamed into the phone.

Unknown to Cortex, Pinstripe, Pasadena, and Von Clutch were listening in on him. "I've barely known 'em, but he is definitely Cortex's bottom," Pasadena whispered.

"Genau," said Von Clutch. "I get a fruity vibe from him."

Pinstripe nodded. "Dat's what I've been sayin' dis whole time," he murmured. "God, it feels good to speak normal for once."

Von Clutch motioned for them to be quiet. "Sei ruhig, I vant to hear zis."

"Alright, now that we've established that I'm in the right," Cortex asserted, "did you say N. Gin has gone missing?"

N. Tropy sighed. Quiet noises could be heard from the other line. "Cortex? It's Coco. Tropy said he has a migraine and is gonna take some ibuprofen, or any pills he can find. Oh, a lot of pills. And stuff. We've looked everywhere for N. Gin, but he's not in his lab."

"Not in his lab?" he echoed. "As far as I've known of, he's only left it once during the past several months, and that was for a band-aid." Cortex sighed. "I'm sorry, I can't deal with this right now, I'm going to be late for my appointment. He's likely knawing on a raw chicken bone or something in the kitchen, check in there."

"But we-"

Cortex hung up.

"So he finally left his room, eh?" Pinstripe asked.

"Honestly, I could not possibly care less any more than I do now," Cortex said. "Thanks to these losers, I'm nearly late for my top surgery appointment, and now I'm forced to reckon with the fact that my chauffeur stans BTS."

Von Clutch mumbled something in German that not even Pasadena understood.

"Look, Ise-" Pinstripe cleared his throat. "Look, I barely know N. Gin. But I know that if the roles were swapped, he'd be worried for you for dear life. He'd drop everything to find you and make sure you're okay."

"Exactly," Pasadena nodded. "I barely understand a thing 'bout what you were blabberin' on for, but from what I know, it sounds bad. I mean, not leavin' your room for months? A shut-in?"

"Do zomething, Dummkopf!" Von Clutch said. "I'm tired of just ztanding around arguing vith someone who vill most likely forget about me by sunset."

Cortex looked down at his prized chest. He did enjoy wearing that discarded MILF shirt. Perhaps he could recover it, and...

"Well," he sighed. "I guess appeasing the public can wait another day, if it means appeasing the closest thing I have to friends right now."

Von Clutch huffed. "Ja, ja, was auch immer. I'd rather we get zis over with so we at least don't get harassed in private by you ever again."

"So, where do we start lookin'?" Pasadena asked.

Cortex shrugged. "That's part of the problem. Who knows how far someone like him could have gone, especially for being locked in their room for so long..."

They stood there in silence, pondering where he could have gone.

Then an agonized scream pierced through the skies. Someone was in peril.

"Where the hell did that come from?!" Pinstripe asked.

Cortex looked back over Pasadena's shoulder.

"I think I have an idea as to where."

Chapter Text

N. Gin's head was throbbing violently as he slunk out of his bedroom, wallet in his non-bandaged hand. Even in the state he was in, N. Gin knew it was in immense pain.

He also knew when and where to move, and any backup plans in case he were to get caught while on his way out. Luckily for him, at that moment the corridors were empty. Cortex's footsteps had been long gone, and not even the sound of N. Gin's cheeks clapping could alert anyone of his presence.

The cyborg made his way over to an open stairway and began his descent. He kept close to the railing as he went, his legs shaking as he continued. A flash took over his vision, and it felt like his head was about to explode at any moment. He grasped for his head, making sure to not drop his wallet in the process. N. Gin didn't want to say anything in case anyone could hear him.

He couldn't risk that.

N. Gin hobbled his way to a dank, dark back exit. The only light in the area came from the lit exit sign above the door. He opened it, and made his way out as quickly as possible.

A faint roar was heard from somewhere around the castle entrance, which was shielded off by a series of bushes. Luckily for him, his destination was in the opposite direction, and he carried on as quietly as he could.

When he was sure he was out of anyone's earshot, he sighed. "I should have taken ibuprofen..." he muttered. "But it's too late to go back now."

He clutched his wallet close to him. "I swear, he said the meeting location was..." he mumbled, not even bothering to finish his thought as he came across a small, green imp.

"Ah, you must be 'rawkithedofficial'," the extraterrestrial creature greeted. He was shorter than the cyborg, which was a notable feat. "Is that a band or something? I am not from this planet, the only thing I know is that Hatsune Miku is from here, and I wish to conquer it."

N. Gin scratched the back of the left side of his head. "Yeah, it's, uh, it's something I've been working on." He pulled out his wallet. "I won't give you my goods until you give me yours, Velo."

Velo pulled out a brown paper bag, with no label in sight. "I have the burger and the fries, but our planet universally has a vendetta against soda. It's a cultural thing, you wouldn't understand. I hope water suffices."

"The burger is what really matters here," N. Gin said impatiently.

"Very well," he sighed. He extended both of his hands; one holding the bag, the other having its palm wide open. "Now, give me the money, and we're set."

N. Gin dropped a stack of bills into Velo's open palm, and in turn he gave N. Gin the bag.

"Thank you for your service," Velo said.

"No, thank you," N. Gin replied. His body was shaking from anticipation. "I cannot believe that Travis Scott collaborated with Toxic Burger to release a near-identical meal to his own on Earth!"

Velo chuckled. "Anything is possible, rocket head, if you believe it to be." He waltzed away, counting the stack of bills in his hand.

N. Gin almost collapsed onto the ground from excitement. "Finally," he muttered. "After all this time!"

Without hesitation, he thrusted his hand into the bag, grabbed the burger, and bit into it. Dopamine surged within his brain, only to die down not long after.

The taste was certainly familiar, but not in the way he expected. He looked at the burger to find that it was, in fact, something he had before.

It was the same meal he and Cortex had gotten at a Toxic Burger food shuttle that had visited the Wumpa Islands to promote its locations in space.

Every crumb, every milliliter of grease, every fried piece of beef was the same as they were then. Nothing about it screamed Travis Scott.

Desperate, N. Gin grasped for some fries. In the midst of obtaining a handful, he also managed to grab something small and flimsy.

A receipt.

He quickly pulled it into view and gasped. "So this was just..." he began hyperventilating. "I- I stole... thousands of dollars, just s- just so that I could get a-a FOUR DOLLAR COMBO FROM A FAST FOOD RESTAURANT?!"

Velo was far gone by this point, and even if he weren't, N. Gin couldn't do anything to him. He was encapsulated in his heavy, shaky, and rapid breathing. Everything around him began to speed up as the anxiety attack hit full-force. The cyborg crumbled to the ground and into a ball, and began to cry.

"What have I- what- I-?!" he cried, rocking himself as his eyes shut tight. He didn't know what else to do other than continue with his rocking and sputtering.

He couldn't make out his own rambles as everything around him seemed to cave in. It was all too much. He couldn't think, he couldn't breathe, he could only just suffer from fear alone.

And then it got silent.

Not to the point of slight tinnitus, but enough to make the doctor's weary mind concerned.

He opened his eyes and was greeted by an infinite, soft, white abyss in all directions.

"Did I die?" he asked himself, standing up. He noticed that nothing in his body was in pain. Not even the sensation that he had been crying before was there.

N. Gin began to walk.

No, that sounded wrong to him. He didn't walk. He couldn't. He always bounced, bounded, and hobbled his way through to accommodate to his weight, disproportionately shaped body, and rocket. It was almost comedic then.

But now there was no mistaking it. He was walking, and he had found a center balance easily on the solid ground he was on.

"I'm definitely dead."

He looked around at his surroundings as he went. Though he could make out some shapes in the distance, he couldn't tell if it was the way that the abyss was lit, or that his right eye seemed different to him.

Regardless, he walked on, mumbling to himself along the way. The shapes got larger, which only enticed him to come closer. And as he did, they became more familiar to him.

The first was a small house, surrounded by crops lasting for miles. Fittingly, the second building was a barn. Both were a faded shade of grey, and looked fuzzy, even up close.

N. Gin shuddered as he approached the house first. He didn't bother knocking as he opened the dark grey door.

Even with its colors drained, the house looked the same as he last saw it: hardwood floors, an old television set in the nearby living room, mold growing on the corner of the kitchen wall. Each room he visited was small, and there were few downstairs to be found, but they were the same as his childhood home, down to the family portrait resting above the mantle.

On the left stood a gruff, sturdy-looking man. He was notably large in size, compared to the short stature of the man looking at the portrait. In the portrait, the man showed no signs of any pride nor joy. His lips were as stern as could be, and his eyes cold. N. Gin didn't spend too much time looking at him.

To the right was a beautiful damsel sporting a sundress. Gin remembered her wearing them for three different types of occasions: whenever company was over, whenever his father was in a violent mood, or the rare days where she could no longer subject herself to the raptures of housework. Those nights in particular would always end the same, with the status quo returning not long after a hearty scream and a slap or two. Gin knew her smile was fake, even in that picture.

And in the middle stood a freckled child. Like the man to the left, he was wearing overalls. His weren't as well-kept as that man's, as they were secondhand, and the most they were willing to spend on him. Even with the tired, dark lines already under his eyes, his smile was genuine.

N. Gin wanted to reach out to the smiling visage of his younger self, for reasons unknown to anyone but himself, but held back. He turned around and headed up the creaky wooden stairs to his old room.

A poster for a heavy metal band hung in the corner above a worn-out mattress that laid on the ground, laced with a singular blanket and a pillow. Several books on physiology, mechanics, and computing were scattered across the near-barren floor. The only other object in that room was a cracked mirror that hung opposite to the poster.

Even with the cracks, N. Gin noticed that he looked different.

His rocket was entirely gone, and he had his right eye back. The filthy lab coat from before now was a pair of overalls over a soft, pink flannel shirt. Even his hair had reverted from a dark shade of blue to a soft, natural ginger. He unraveled the bandage on his right hand and found that there was no trace of him ever cutting himself. Unsure of what to say or do, he ran his fingers through his hair, particularly around where the rocket used to be. N. Gin couldn't help but chuckle.

He was beautiful.

"So if I'm dead..." he gasped. "Is George here!?"

N. Gin rushed down the stairs and out the door, not bothering to take another look at anything else inside.

"He has to be inside the barn!" the doctor insisted. "He's got to be!"

Luckily for him, like the house, the barn was unlocked. He opened the door and was greeted by a seemingly infinite number of stables.

"George?" N. Gin called out. "It's me! Gin!"

He walked onwards, desperately searching for his lost friend.

"Come on! George!? Frank!? Steve!?" N. Gin asked. "Anybody!?"

No response.

"It's me! It's your old pal, Gin! Remember!? I would come in here and play with you after feeding you!"

Again, no response.

"Is it because I named you all after guys? Look, I'm sorry, I didn't interact much with girls, and I thought you guys- no, you cows were males."

He opened stable after stable, desperate. "I need someone right now," N. Gin begged. "Don't tell me my afterlife is just begging for company for eternity... I can't go back to that again."

The doctor began to tear up. Real tears, oil-free. "Please..."

"I'm sorry, love," a woman's voice said from behind him. "I did not realize you've finally come home."

The former cyborg turned and was greeted with the sight of a young woman with ginger hair smiling at him. He recognized everything about her, certainly, but it was the sundress that gave it away.

"Mommy?"

Chapter Text

He practically dove headfirst into his mother's embrace, sniffling. "I missed you, Mommy," he whispered into her. Their height difference meant that he had his head resting on her stomach.

She didn't say anything, but simply held him close to her. N. Gin didn't object to this, and only burrowed himself in deeper.

"Am I... am I dead?" he asked the woman.

"Well, darling," she said absently. "I've been busy doing chores while you've been gone."

N. Gin attempted to lift his head, but her grip on him tightened. He lowered it back down, not opposing her embrace. "Chores? I- Nobody has been left at the house," he said. "You and I left at different points, and Father-"

He felt his insides freeze. N. Gin inhaled as best as he could. "Are you mad at me for doing it?"

"You never got caught, right?" she asked him.

"Well, no, but-"

"Then no."

The two stood in an awkward silence.

"Mommy, seriously, what is this place?"

She began stroking the back of his hair. "So soft..." she mused. "I missed brushing it. Always one of our favorites..."

"Mom." His voice was firm. "Where. The. Hell. Am. I?" He could feel her body shiver a bit, as if it were reliving some sort of personal agony that both of them knew all too well.

He didn't want to bring it upon her on purpose, and yet, here they were.

"I don't know, darling," she replied. "What do you think?"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'WHAT DO YOU THINK', I-"

She held him tighter, causing N. Gin to gasp for air, and shushed him.

"It's going to be alright," his mother cooed. "Everything that's come of this was fated. Earned, even."

"W....ha...?"

The woman shushed him again. "You're defective by design, darling. Accept that, and your burden will become lighter."

Even with the tight constrictions, N. Gin managed to break down. "No... no I can't do this right now..." he agonized, tears streaming from both of his eyes. He was too distraught to notice that they did not contain a single drop of fossil fuel.

"Because you're not okay," his mother continued. "After all, how can you be after everything?"

"STOP TALKING!" he bawled furiously. Saliva dripped out of his gaping mouth from the uncontrolled emotions going through him. "I FINALLY GET TO SEE YOU AFTER ALL THIS TIME, AND THIS IS ALL YOU HAVE TO S-"

His mother pulled him closer. He swore he heard something snap. "I shall relieve you of your pain, if you so wish to, darling."

N. Gin didn't even respond. His body was on the verge of collapsing in her tight grip. He attempted to pull away, but realized he couldn't.

He was stuck to her. No, melting into her.

His face had been suctioned deep into her flat belly. He was losing feeling his arms as they were sinking into her back. N. Gin couldn't tell what was going on, nor what to do.

"Come home, dear one," she whispered soothingly. "You'll only ever have to worry about the cows. The crops. Where our products come and go. And your Mommy will be here to help."

He couldn't lift his head, but could move his formerly artificial eye up enough to notice a shadowy figure from behind her, its lifelike and dark hands aligned perfectly with the bruises on his mother's neck.

"No, no NO NO NONONONO!" N. Gin screamed, and pulled back violently. The shape of his mother and the figure alike collapsed with a haunting scream, the two liquidizing and splashing hard onto the ground. Some of the liquid bounced back onto N. Gin's face. He stood there in shock, the look of sheer horror on his soaked face.

He felt his breathing grow faster and faster as he backed away from the puddle. "Wha... what do I...?" N. Gin stumbled out of the barn, exasperated and desperate to rid himself of the bloodshed. As if on command, a lazy, winding river snaked across the ground in front of him. Like its surroundings, it was drained of any color, but was a welcome sight nonetheless.

The man went to dip his hands into the river to wash his face, but stopped upon seeing his reflection. Like everything around him, he was drained of any color. His eyes, hair, skin, and even clothes were reduced to a greyscale, save for one factor: the blood that stained them.

Its dark, crimson color was enough of a sight for him to dunk his entire head into the clear waters. He held his eyes shut, feeling a sense of clarity from the cold. Had the river not been shallow, he could have dove further.

When he rose to finally take a breath, the water around him became an even darker shade of red than before. He jumped back in terror, managing to get onto his feet, which were beginning to tingle. N. Gin noticed the feeling spread throughout his body, including his fingers. His right hand was still physically uninjured, but the pain from where the cut was became more obvious as the tingling reached the tips of his fingers.

He felt a pain in his stomach and instinctively grasped for it, kneeling down. N. Gin attempted to retch, but nothing came out other than heavy breathing. Everything around him was spinning as the throbbing in his hand worsened.

"My..." N. Gin gasped, looking at his hands as he slowly removed them from his stomach. "My fingers have... hands..."

His head tilted back, exhausted, as legs akin to a spider's began to tear through his sides, in turn lifting him from the ground due to their massive length. The pain from this was unbearable compare to the rest of his body, and he screamed as he was lifted onto his backside. These newly formed legs, which now have him ten in total, carried him away from the riverbank.

Realizing he could do nothing to control them, N. Gin could only watch the sky as the ground beneath him moved faster and faster, as if he were riding atop a vehicle on a highway. His breath was shaky as tears formed in his eyes. He was unable to form words nor grasp the situation, only letting it play out.

Something whizzed past his head, the abrupt disturbance in an already disturbing moment shaking him further. Desperately, he grasped for the right side of his head, where he was greeted with the same sensations he would have received if he grasped his left side: natural, for a human. He sighed, relieved to have something positive about his situation.

Voices echoed faintly as the legs carried him faster and faster still. That is, however, until they didn't. "W-What's going-?" N. Gin began, before he felt his body lower onto the ground. He rested upon his normal feet, and the spider legs retracted safely into his abdomen, and the pain vanished.

"...the hell?"

Anxiously, N. Gin unbuttoned his checkered shirt. There were no punctured holes or bruises on his body. He gently and slowly ran the tips of his fingers upon the left side of his body, checking for any signs of any aches or pains to be reawakened by the touch, but to no avail.

It was as though nothing had happened.

N. Gin did the same but with his right side, and received the same results. He couldn't even feel abnormal sensations beneath his pale skin. The only pain he felt came from the palm of his right hand. "I need to get out of here," he said. "I...I don't know how I got here, exactly, or how to get out, but..." his trail of thought sputtered out as he saw a hazy sign glowing above him.

He was at a McDonald's. The doors were wide open, but with no signs of customers nor employees in sight. But that did not bring him down.

"Someone has to be inside to help. I can feel it," he insisted to himself as he approached the entrance. He pulled at the door, but it refused to budge. "No, i-it's my mind trying to trick me, like before," he insisted, before winding up his arm. N. Gin punched a hole through the glass door, causing it to shatter. No alarms went off, but the throbbing in his head and on his right hand, which he used to punch through the door, worsened.

He carefully made his way into the building and began to search for signs of life. N. Gin knew nobody would be dining in the front, so he resorted to the fry cooks in the back.

At least, if they were there.

N. Gin crawled onto the counter, filled with enough motivation and strength to get him there. "Is anybody home?" he asked.

No response.

He jumped off the counter, wandering across the kitchen. "I don't think anybody would be hiding in these machines," the man mumbled.

"Yeah, just about all of them are gone now," said a voice from behind him. N. Gin turned and found himself face-to-face with someone that he swore he's seen a billion times on Cortex's monitor whenever the mad doctor went onto Nico Nico.

"Who are you?" N. Gin asked, grasping at the side of his head as the throbbing worsened.

The character smiled and struck a cute pose. "I'm Hatsune Miku!"

N. Gin gasped. "Wait, you can't be serious! You're the real Hatsune Miku?!"

"Of course! I was never just a voice bank created from another singer's vocal samples! Now come on, we gotta get you some help. Follow me." And with that, Miku leaped over to one of the grills laid about in the color-drained kitchen.

"Look, all you gotta do is reach into that grill right there, and grab what's on the bottom," she explained.

N. Gin stared at the figure in disbelief. "Do you have any idea how insane that sounds?"

"Look who's talking," Miku fired back. "The grill's empty otherwise, see?" She dipped his hand into the machine, waited a few seconds, and moved it back out. There in her hand rested her namesake burger. "See? It's not gonna hurt you." She bit into it, chewed, and swallowed for added effect. "Especially if you're not a hologram."

N. Gin looked down into the grill. Sure enough, the only thing to be found was a fully made Hatsune Miku burger, complete with fries and the drink.

"She's tricking me again," he told himself, "I can't trust her. I can't trust anybody here."

Then N. Gin's gaze softened, as well as his demeanor.  "Of course we can. She's offering us comfort after everything we just went through!"

"Are you daft?!" he yelled at himself, returning to his angrier side. "That's exactly what happened with Mommy! We can't go through that again!"

"But... but I'm hungry..." N. Gin mewled.

He stood in silence, staring at the grill. "Yeah... I'm really hungry." The man turned to Miku, only to find that the virtual idol had disappeared.

"Travis?" N. Gin called out. He looked back into the sink, and saw more burgers than there were before. "Huh. I guess they really are made from Hatsune Miku meat," he mused.

N. Gin inhaled sharply. "Fine. I trust this place." He mentally selected the burger he wanted, hovered his hand over his choice, and dunked his right hand into the grill to grab it.

The boiling, searing pain that greeted him was worse than anything he had experienced during the entire ordeal. Everything around him began to fade into an eternally dark void, while every sting from his body and every intense emotion from his heart and mind alike correlated into a haunting, blood curdling scream.

And, unable to fight it, he succumbed to the darkness.

Chapter Text

N. Gin was lying down again, but everything around him was no darker than when he had his eyes closed.

He attempted to lift his right arm, but felt no response. He tried again with his left, and was able to move it fine.

Cautiously, he grasped around to get an idea of where he was, considering the lack of light that would have shown him otherwise. The cyborg figured it was a couch based on the material, but it had a familiar feel to it. The second the piece of furniture began to move, he held back the urge to scream as he balanced himself.

'Couches aren't supposed to shake like that,' he thought.

His breathing escalated and his eyes widened, terrified for whatever horrible event was to come. He moved his lips to speak, but no sound came out. Frustrated, he tried again, and again, and again, tears coming to his eyes as he realized he couldn't cry out for help to anyone. All he knew was that he was on a couch, was likely floating on water, could not move his right arm nor speak, and the darkness.

N. Gin carefully shifted from laying on his back to lying on the left side of his body, facing the unknown waters that were otherwise beneath him. As he shifted, he felt a familiar weight on his right side that he had to maneuver.

His rocket was back.

He didn't know what to say anymore, and figured, for once, that words weren't necessary if he were truly that alone in the darkness.

Save for the light that began to shine across the waters.

At first it was faint and barely noticeable, but made its presence known the closer it got to the cyborg until finally reaching his face. He held his hand up over his eyes and squinted to shield himself from its intensity, before it lowered itself. Likewise, he slowly moved his arm downward.

Thanks to the newfound light source, he could confirm that he was sitting on a couch floating atop dark, seemingly endless, waters. He was wrong, however, in believing he was alone.

N. Gin opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"I know, you've got a lot to say," said a familiar figure. "I've been here long enough to know these sort of things." The man aimed the light between the couch buoying N. Gin and the flying carpet he was seated on. "You most likely don't remember me, but I am Corey."

The cyborg looked at him in fear, confusion, and awe.

"I'm certain you're familiar with my colleague Nolan, correct?" he continued.

N. Gin nodded, and a raft came into view.

"Oh, speak of the devil, here he comes now," Corey mumbled.

"What? That's how the mind works, pal, I thought you knew that!" Nolan said, his raft approaching the two. "All we gotta do now is mention the other three by name, and-"

Corey shot him a threatening look. "But that's not why we're here," he said harshly through clenched teeth, then turned to N. Gin. "You're not dead. Your heart still beats, miraculously."

"Yeah, I mean, c'mon. Dude replaces all of his blood cells with oil, cuts his hand several times, and dunks it into a deep fryer. Of COURSE his body's gonna shut down like that!" Nolan interjected. Corey lightly pushed his raft away.

"Any moment now, you won't be here. Mentally, that is. We're just going through the motions as your brain rewires itself, which should be done any moment now," Corey explained. "That includes, however, choosing one of us."

N. Gin raised his brow in confusion.

"As in your voice. Primarily outer, but whoever does become that also leads the inner voices," said Corey. "And I doubt Nolan would be of any help if you reelect him."

Nolan furiously paddled his boat back. "It's not my fault he almost died, okay?! It was that freaking burger!" Sighing, he pulled out a clipboard and pen, and paddled over to N. Gin. "Here, look over them and pick who's gonna be in charge," he offered.

The cyborg accepted, and looked over the candidates, eagerly awaiting for when he could come to. Each one felt familiar to him in a sense, which gave him a strong pang of nostalgia he otherwise would not have known. Each candidate had unique but manageable qualities to them that he could not ignore, especially in the case of the two originally sitting in front of him. When he looked up, the rest of the inner voices sat alongside them, the dark waters in their area now gone. Instead, the familiar studio set from Nolan's "show" rested in its place. They all sat in eager anticipation for what he had to say.

N. Gin gestured towards the candidates, and then to his own throat. They all nodded, and the waters beneath him began to part. A musty carpet floor laid between them, which N. Gin walked across to reach the men.

He looked sympathetically at Nolan. The cyborg believed wholeheartedly that he was not to blame for what happened, which Nolan understood as well. He then turned his gaze to Corey, whose serious nature he had grown to respect. Almost akin to N. Tropy, in a sense, which pleased N. Gin in its further familiarity.

After a moment of hesitation, he grabbed Corey's hand and raised it to the best of his ability. He felt the insides of his throat shift as he did so.

"I choose him."

Corey nodded approvingly. "I knew you'd-"

The cyborg gestured his head towards Nolan. "And I choose him to be on standby."

Everyone looked at him in disbelief, including Nolan. "Standby?" they asked simultaneously.

"Well, I don't blame him for any of this," N. Gin explained. "In the end, it's both the burger's fault and myself. And maybe cognitive Hatsune Miku, I'm still on the fence on how I feel about her."

"But we're literally-"

"I know." N. Gin sighed. "Just- It's not his fault for any of this, okay? Can I wake up now?"

He looked at where his right arm used to be. It was still notably missing, but the ground beneath him was purged of any waters from before. The same could be said for any other area around him.

"Well, the setup is complete, so I don't see why not," Lex shrugged.

Lex, Quinton, Brendan, Nolan, and Corey all gathered in a circle around N. Gin and placed their hands on his head. This time, he didn't flinch or show any signs of fear.

"We're always here for you," Brendan told him.

"Even during your rough patches," Quinton added.

"I just wanna go home too, I feel you," Lex joked.

N. Gin laughed politely, still having barely any idea what these men were like.

"I'm never gonna forget you," Nolan said. "I mean that. So you better not forget to bring me back into the fray every now and again."

"Typical thing to say for someone playing second fiddle," Corey mumbled, then looked at N. Gin. "When you wake up, you'll be safe. Hurt, but safe. But if you ever need a safer place to retreat to, just look inside your...metaphorical, heart."

The cyborg nodded. "I will."

Everyone around him smiled satisfactorily, and began to chant something he could barely wake up, like a dream slipping straight out of one's consciousness as they awaken.

His vision faded outwards and came into contact with a white tiled ceiling. He attempted to move upwards but could not find the strength to do it.

Looking down at his right side, no head movement required, he found that he truly had lost his right arm. In its placed was a stub wrapped in bandages. He felt his heart sink, which in turn made the monitor next to him change in speed.

"It was real..." he muttered, then gasped.

He actually sounded different. Less Ren Howak and cocaine-induced, and more... simpering.

"Of course it was real," said a familiar voice. N. Gin looked to his left and saw Cortex and Pinstripe sitting on hospital chairs, staring at him.

"Doctor Cortex?" N. Gin asked.

The doctor crossed his arms angrily. "We definitely need to talk."

Chapter Text

"By 'we need to talk', does that include me, by any chance?" Pinstripe asked. "I swear, I's been nothin' but a third wheel dis whole time."

Cortex looked at Pinstripe, to which the mutated potoroo cleared his throat. "I swear, I've been nothing but a third wheel this whole time," he repeated. "A third wheel who can't speak the way he wants to because his jaundiced boss says otherwise."

"I don't have jaundice!" Cortex snapped. "Look, we're not having this conversation right now, okay?! There's so many other things to discuss with him!" He aggressively gestured towards the bedridden cyborg. "Like how much this damn hospital bill is gonna cost us!"

"Well, we do live in Ameri- the Wumpa Islands," Pinstripe added. "The health insurance is stupidly expensive if you get so much as a splinter."

N. Gin sighed. "How bad is it?" he asked weakly.

Cortex and Pinstripe were taken aback. "...what happened to your voice?" Pinstripe asked.

"I haven't heard you sound like that in..." Cortex said, his voice trailing off. "In some time." He shook his head. "But don't think we're going to overlook everything else about you! You shut yourself in for several months, and when we finally do see you, you're even more unstable than before! And then when I go out to get life-changing surgery, we find out the hard way that your own life almost ended by a McDonald's frying machine! Grill! Thing!" Cortex stamped his foot in frustration. "I'm blanking, but you know what I mean!"

"So much for a mad genius," Pinstripe scoffed. "If you need me for anything, I'll be haggling the nurses for better prices." He pulled out a comically sized machine gun from his back pocket.

Even in his horribly deformed state, N. Gin looked on in disgust and confusion. "How did you-?"

"Like I said, we live in Americ- I mean, the Wumpa Islands," Pinstripe snapped. "Lemme guess, I'm gonna get made fun of that continuous mishap, huh?" He aggressively stomped his way to the doorway. "Have fun with your one-on-one." Pinstripe slammed the door behind him.

The two scientists looked at the door, unsure of how to react.

Eventually, Cortex sighed. "Look, I'm good with these sort of things, okay? I don't exactly do well with mental health." He gave the hospital bed a quick observation. "Or... whatever you want to call this. But I need you to be honest with me."

"About what?"

"Everything."

N. Gin was shocked purely by his master's tone. On any other day, he'd be dismissive at best, abusive at worst. And as much as the cyborg enjoyed being in Neo's general presence, the sudden shift in his usual tone was something he never expected outside of his imagination.

"I'm going to sound like a madman, aren't I?"

Cortex scoffed. "When do you not?" He cringed as soon as the words left his mouth. "Sorry, sorry, not a good time."

They both remained there in silence for a moment.

"Are you going to believe me?" N. Gin asked.

"I told you, I want honesty," Cortex repeated. "And I know you're good on obedience."

N. Gin sighed. "You have the general gist, right? My birthday, McDonald's, Travis Scott Meal, several months of social isolation, near-death experience?"

Cortex nodded slowly. "Definitely."

"Alright, so," N. Gin sighed, again. "I've eaten a few different kinds of burgers in my life. Pretty much all of them came from you in some form, like that time we went to Toxic Burger... that was a good day..."

"It really was, wasn't it?" Cortex mused. "Continue."

"But I'd never tasted anything remotely like the Hatsune Miku meal, especially that burger. So delicious, so enticing, so... everything," he explained. "And I mean everything. I- I blacked out several times while eating them during those months."

Neo held back a gasp. "Wait, just like the first time, or-?"

"The first? At the restaurant? Oh no, it got worse, Doctor Cortex," N. Gin said. "Everything around me would change. I was in a field one time, and another I met my literal consciences. All of them. One of them even sounded like you, too. His name was Lex... I think."

"As in American voice actor and director Lex Lang?" Cortex asked. "I've always wanted to meet him, honestly." He looked at N. Gin. "I-I'm doing horribly on this, I'll just keep my mouth shut until you do the same."

N. Gin gave him a faint smile in appreciation, which left as soon as it came.  "I saw my mother before the incident. Most definitely a hallucination, but it felt almost real to me. It was her body and her voice, but for the most part she was, I don't know, too kind?" He scoffed. "I was done better by her in my own trip than she ever did me my entire childhood. A shame, really. Even there my father found a way to sever everything."

He paused. Cortex looked at N. Gin, silently allowing the cyborg gather his thoughts.

This silence, save for the heart monitor, went on for a while, until N. Gin sighed. "To be honest, Doctor? I had an entire monologue in my head just now. About how I feel that I'm never going to go back to how I truly used to be. And that nobody will ever love me. That I'm just... worthless. To my family, to the people I ended up with, to... everyone."

More silence.

"That rocket should have killed me. That deep fryer should have killed me. Realistically, at this point, I should have been killed." He looked at Cortex as best as he could. "I want to die, Doctor Cortex."

"...I know." He cautiously placed his hand on N. Gin's sole arm. "But nobody else wants you to."

The bedridden cyborg looked at Cortex suspiciously. "Everyone?"

"Yes, everyone, even the bandicoots. Look." Neo let go of N. Gin's arm and walked towards a table that sat opposite of the bed. N. Gin missed the brief warmth of his touch.

Cortex pulled the table towards the bedside. "All of these are for you. The cards and gifts are from nearly everyone in the castle. I'm surprised N. Brio actually pitched in," he mused, then picked up a bouquet of flowers. "These are from the bandicoots, for reference."

"They're so pretty...." N. Gin smiled, weak as it was.

"They really are," Cortex said, looking down at the flowers. The cyborg could tell the doctor had wanted to say something more, but decided not to press him about it. Today was for healing, not for potentially opening any new wounds.

Instead, he cleared his throat. "So, uh, what about you? How have you been, with those... jugs, and everything." N. Gin looked at Cortex's chest to emphasize the point, but saw that it was flat. "Wait, wha- why is it flat? Was that just another delusion I had?"

"Oh, no, that happened. I became relevant again in the media from it and gained a cult following on Twitter," Cortex clarified. "I mean, I only use Facebook, but a fandom is a fandom."

"So, what, did you get top surgery?"

"Well, that was what I was going to do before the incident. I figured that even with my following, the media and further rejection from friends and family alike was not worth it, and that I'm better off being as normal as an evil scientist can be." Cortex smirked. "But after we received your hospital bill, I came to a self-compromise."

He tugged at the side of his black undershirt collar to reveal what appeared to be a tank top with pictures of an anime character plastered over it. "I got the Hatsune Miku binder. Now I can have a flat or round chest whenever I want, and I have the best virtual idol on it. I guess we were both influenced by the burger, huh?"

The cyborg felt his blood run cold. "I believe in Kasane Teto supremacy," N. Gin muttered.

"Okay, look, we're not going to argue over this, even though I'm completely right," Cortex said, letting go of his collar.

N. Gin sighed. "Honestly, I'm surprised you even came this time. You've beaten me really badly in the past."

Cortex awkwardly moved his hand from his undershirt collar to the back of his neck. "O...Oh... I didn't know..."

"Between you and the bandicoots, I would say that you're even, but theirs was every year or so. Yours was-"

"I'll stop." Cortex quickly moved both of his hands up in protest. "I promise. Evil scientist's honor. At this point, you've been hurt enough."

A scoff. "You really think so?"

Cortex learned closely towards the cyborg. "N. Gin, I think we both need a new sense of direction. I'll admit, I need to listen to my hench people more often, and you need to start putting yourself first. Or, at least, doing so safely. And we can go down that path of redemption together."

He extended his hand for a moment, then remembered N. Gin couldn't exactly reciprocate the gesture. "Erm, look, you have every right to be upset or uncomfortable right now. But I want to be able to make things right with you."

"And everyone else?"

"No." Cortex fired back instantly. "I'm not going to be that generous of a person. Just with the one guy who's treated me too well in life."

N. Gin looked at Cortex's hand suspiciously.

"I-"

The door burst open. "A'ight, I got some good news and some bad news," Pinstripe greeted. "Good news, we don't have to pay nada for the operations."

"And the bad news?"

Pinstripe groaned. "Your card declined. Apparently showing off my literal guns to scare the employees into being more understanding led to them sending the whole team that operated on your bottom to start runnin' up here. They're gonna undo your surgery." He locked the door shut behind him. "This'll hold 'em for a bit."

"Holy cannoli!" Cortex gasped. "Don't worry, we have backup." He pulled out a walkie-talkie. "Cortex to Pasadena, do you copy?"

"Mm, nope," Pasadena's voice crinkled from the other end. "That ain't our names an' you know it."

Cortex pressed his thumb and index finger against the bridge of his nose out of frustration. "Honey Mustard to Best Girl, do you copy?"

"Ja, Cortex, ve copy!" came Von Clutch's equally distorted voice from the other line. "I lost mein walkie-talkie, ve are sharing. Over."

"Right, yeah, fine, sure," Cortex said dismissively. "Initiate plan D, Beanpole."

"DAST IST NICHT-" Von Clutch began to scream from the walkie-talkie, but was drowned out by the storm of incoming nurses ready to beat the living daylights out of N. Gin sounded from the hallway outside.

Cortex looked at Pinstripe. "Grab any part of his bed and start pushing in my direction!"

The potoroo smirked. "Gladly." He ran over towards the bed, where N. Gin was observing in sheer confusion. "No offense to you, dat is." He gave a snicker and pushed the bed as hard as he could towards where Cortex stood: the windows.

"What are you-" the cyborg looked down one of the open windows to find a large tow truck parked directly beneath it. An anthropomorphic possum, Pasadena, finished setting up a series of mattresses, blankets, and pillows. "There... there's no way we are going to-"

Cortex ignored N. Gin's protests and, as best as he could, scooped him up from the bed. "Oh, wow, you barely gained any weight at all," he noted. "Neat. Now, on the count of three, we're going to throw you down there, and then follow right after." Caredully, he lowered his voice. "And get to our car as soon as you can, alright?"

The angry mob had reached the door and began banging on it.

"One!"

N. Gin looked at the door as it continued to become swarmed with angry doctors.

"Two!"

He looked back down at the truck and gulped. The banging behind them was starting to grow louder now.

"Three!"

Chapter Text

He honestly did not remember how he had even gotten to the bathroom. Everything between falling out of the hospital window to his current position was a blur.

Cortex, aware of this, was trying to explain what had happened. That they had to physically hide his body so that they could smuggle him back to the castle, and that Pinstripe found a way to... "come to an agreement",  with both the hospital and the police alike, and that he was safe now. Sure, he'd been in and out of consciousness for a few weeks, but physically he was fine enough to have the bandages removed. That meant everything was fine, right?

But Gin kept disassociating. His mind was in a haze run purely out of shock. He didn't know how to respond to anything that was going on. Nothing felt safe nor real.

Sighing, Cortex swiveled the chair that his subservient partner was sitting in so that the two were facing each other. "New Hampshire Gin." Neo's firm voice snapped him back to reality.

"Y-Yeah?"

"Do I really have to explain myself again? You keep spacing out on me."

N. Gin winced. "Sorry."

"No, it's- I'm not mad, N. Gin. I completely understand where you're at right now," Cortex said. He took a good look at Gin's hair. "So I'm going to explain what we're about to do, okay? We're going to wash the dye out of your hair, get you some new clothes, completely change your image."

Neo glanced at the missile, and N. Gin could tell he immediately regretted his choice of words. "Well, maybe not completely, but enough to show you've changed now that you're becoming sober. Sort of the old you coming back, but with a modern twist."

N. Gin nodded slowly. "That sounds good."

"Excellent!" Cortex clasped his hands together. "I had to pull up online tutorials for the hair, though, I'm not a cosmetologist by any means."

"Unless it's a James Charles video, I think we should be all set."

A slight panic came onto Cortex's face as he pulled out his phone. "Oh, no, we're all set." He put the phone down on the bathroom counter and turned on the shower, sighing. "Don't take this the wrong way, okay?"

Then Cortex began to remove his lab coat.

"Wait, you're going in with me?!"

"Someone has to remove the dye from your hair! It's a delicate process, and seeing that you're ditzy and literally nobody else would do something like this, I have to help!"

N. Gin blushed. "I-I see."

The two scientists, who were nothing short of flustered, removed their clothing. Cortex did his all on his own, binder and all, then helped Gin remove his own clothing, since he only had one arm to do so. Neo carefully and snugly placed a shower cap onto N. Gin's missile.

Neither of them looked at each other directly, and as the last of N. Gin's garments were removed, they stared at the shower instead, not knowing what to say nor do.

"...yeah, nothing to worry about," Cortex said. "Just guys being dudes. In the shower. Alone. Naked. For therapy."

"That's perfectly normal, yeah," N. Gin added awkwardly. They exchanged uncomfortable glances. "We're not going to make any progress by standing here."

Cortex gulped. "Yeah, just- just don't stare at me, okay? It's one thing when it's adoring fans giving you money, it's another when it's someone close to you."

N. Gin blushed and nodded. Cortex didn't see him do either of these, as he had his back turned to him. He started the shower, but kept facing the shower's walls as the water ran at the perfect trajectory and temperature. "Whenever you're ready, I have the solution all set," he said, awkwardly pointing at a bowl that sat on the shower caddy.

The cyborg cautiously entered the shower, and was immediately flung up onto the ceiling.

Cortex was taken aback. "N. GIN?!"

He gave a pained laugh in response. "I get it... I replaced my blood with oil... oil floats on water... ahahaha..." N. Gin winced. "I-I think I broke what's left of my arm..."

Scared, Cortex grabbed a towel, got inside the shower and turned off the running water. N. Gin fell soon after, landing in Cortex's arms. To their relief, the towel happened to cover his more... gentle spots that were reserved for Cortex's past kickings. Neo's subordinate looked at him in confusion.

"Uh... adrenaline kicked in," Cortex guessed.

"Y-Yes, I figured," N. Gin replied.

Cortex wobbled out of the shower, still carrying N. Gin. He averted his gaze entirely from the scientist. "Alright, we-'ll go- go put your pants back on, and we'll try just wetting your hair, somehow. I genuinely don't know how your body would react to it."

N. Gin jumped down from Cortex's arms and quickly obeyed. Like before, neither of them looked at each other as they redressed themselves. As intimate as their time together was, Cortex did not want to admit to neither Gin nor himself that it felt nice to hold N. Gin like that.

Cortex was the first to get dressed, focusing on slipping his lab coat back on so that he wouldn't have to stare at his assistant. Likewise, he didn't look at N. Gin as he helped him put his pants back on. It was strange for him being the one to assist the cyborg, instead of the other way around.

They returned back to the chair in front of the mirror. Cortex draped a towel over his partner's bare top. "Hm," Neo crossed his arms. "I think we can go full-on Ice Bucket Challenge and dump the water onto you before applying the solution. That sounds good, right?" The awkwardness in his voice was fading, but was still traceable.

"...yeah..."

His mind felt trapped inside the haze. Of course, he couldn't exactly see nor interact with everything he witnessed before, but N. Gin could catch brief glimpses of his past hallucinations: the fields, the voices, the farm.

Mommy.

A cold wave of water hit him, splattering against the shower cap and soaking his hair.

He didn't even want to ask how much time passed for Cortex to obtain that comically large bucket of water. The cyborg sighed as Neo began to massage the solution into the non-metallic half of Gin's scalp.

"...So, uh, what are you going to do about your arm?" Cortex asked awkwardly. "I mean, you're going to make a new one, right?"

"Oh, yeah," he replied. "Erm, I just don't know how I want it to look. I haven't really done arms for cyborgs before."

Through the mirror, he could see Cortex raise his eyebrow in confusion. "You don't remember helping me make Nina's?"

"N-No."

Cortex looked as though he was going to yell at him, but then began to cringe. "Oh, right, you're recovering. Probably not the best mental state to remember things in. Sorry." He continued to apply the solution, a sensation that felt pleasing to N. Gin.

Gin found it somewhat offputting that Cortex was being so nice to him, and if not nice, then awkward. Forced. It felt too good to be true, and he wondered how much the addiction aided in it.

Again, he sighed. He had finally admitted to himself that he had an addiction.

"Well, I'll help you with it. You can design it, I can finalize it, and we can both work on making it as best as we can." Cortex lifted his hands from N. Gin's head, the uncovered hair now completely covered in the dye removal. "Sound good?"

"That sounds wonderful."

"Good. Now, get up, we have to rinse."

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was a strange sensation. He thought it'd feel similar to how he had to adjust to the rocket in his head after the incident. But his mind, which was now beginning to clear, thought wrong.

"Try moving it around," Cortex prompted, his hands clasped. The two stood in the middle of what was referred to as the "communal lab", where all the scientists and assistants in the castle were free to toy with whatever they wanted. Naturally, since they had their own laboratories, Cortex and Gin rarely visited this lab, but they wanted to be someplace a bit more public in case something went awry.

N. Gin lifted his new right arm, which was, notably, not human at all. The part that connected the rest of the arm to his body was rather bulbous, and while the forearm was fine, it was his new hand that was notably non-human as well. Three metallic digits where his five fingers once were, were now wiggling and whirring away.

Well, as much as robotic fingers can wiggle, anyways.

"It fits me," he noted. "Yes, it really fits me."

Cortex squeezed his own hands more intensely together. "Good, good, great." Gin noticed his weary smile.

"What's been going on with you?" he asked. "I-I know I'm not in a good place right now, but.. you seem off, too. Something is up."

The scientist exhaled, his body somewhat relaxing. "Sorry, it's just- it's a lot to take in right now. My new social status, your predicament, the fact that Pinstripe will be leaving at any moment, N. Trance keeps trying to hit me up when I seriously just want to crush his eggshell skull like an... eggshell..."

"Wait, what?"

"Yeah, I know, I'm that done with Trance."

"No, no, I mean Pinstripe!" N. Gin gasped, lowering his arm. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Cortex clasped his hands tight again. "H-He didn't want to worsen things for you, so he figured by nobody mentioning it to you, you wouldn't care. You two have barely interacted anyways."

But N. Gin didn't care. He ran out of the lab and headed towards Pinstripe's room. His hair, while still drying, was very much his natural ginger again, and it began to dry faster as he bolted across the corridors.

"New Hampshire! Wait!" Cortex called from behind him. "Please! I don't think he's even there!"

N. Gin didn't turn back, however, and only stopped when he finally reached the potoroo's door. He gave it a knock with his mechanical arm.

"Pinstripe?" he asked, his breath hoarse from running. "Are... are you there?"

Thankfully, the door did open, and the mutated marsupial stood behind it. He glanced down the hallway, where Cortex now stood in shock, and sighed angrily. "Yeah, I am."

"Are you really leaving?"

"'f course I'm leavin'! Why wouldn' I leave dis ol' dump anyhow?! I ain' got a shred of decency 'ere, and I ain' gonna wait around for it t' come!" He gestured to his bed behind him, which had been stripped of its sheets, and a pile of suitcases laid on top of the barren mattress. "I's was plannin' on leavin' pretty soon, too."

N. Gin frowned. "Oh..."

Pinstripe looked at the cyborg's eyes. They weren't the same expression as they were at the McDonald's playpen, but they shared the same innocence. The same passion. He sighed.

"Look, N. Gin. I don' hate ya. You ain' never done me wrong personally. Dis jus'... ain' my place, 'kay? I'm sorry we didn' talk much at dis place. I'm sure we would've been real good fellows to each otha."

Gin sniffled. "I'm gonna miss you."

The potoroo knelt down and placed his hands on Gin's shoulders. "Hey, hey. No matta where I end up, though, hopefully far from here, I want ya to know dat I want you to recova." His tone was the same as if he were consoling his own son after he lost a big soccer match. "We can text if ya wanna. Maybe hang out someplace that ain' here. I can' make no promises, Gin, but I wanna see where this thing goes. I wanna see where you can go."

N. Gin began to tear up and nodded. "Tha-ank you."

Pinstripe, awkwardly, gave N. Gin a hug, to which he reciprocated it. "And rememba, if anyone who is or is like Cortex eva tries to hurt ya, youse betta send 'em my way," he whispered to N. Gin. "I ain' good with showin' affection, but I'm pretty damn good when it comes to hatred."

"You keep acting like I'm not even here," Cortex groaned, his arms crossed in annoyance.

The two unlikely friends broke away from each other soon enough, and exchanged their contact information.

"See ya soon," Pinstripe told him.

"Of course," N. Gin replied, and he began walking down the corridor, leaving Cortex and Pinstripe alone.

Once he believed that N. Gin was out of earshot, the potoroo looked at Cortex. "Well?"

"Well what?"

The potoroo paused to think. "Well, Iss got two questions for ya. One, are ya gonna be responsible for once 'n send 'im to therapy?"

"N. Gin and therapy don't mix. I can't imagine him being one, never mind going to one."

Pinstripe nodded. "Fair enough. Did ya confess to your b-"

"CALL HIM MY BOTTOM ONE MORE TIME, AND I WON'T ALLOW YOU THE OPPORTUNITY TO MOVE OUT!" Cortex snapped.

Pinstripe rolled his eyes. "Did ya or did ya not tell dat poor fella that ya like him?"

"...no, actually."

"Are ya seriously denyin'?"

"That's not what I mean!" Cortex said, raising his arms up in defense. "I mean he's clearly in a bad place right now! I don't think adding a love confession is going to do him any favors!"

Pinstripe hummed, crossing his arms. "Alright. Fair 'nough. But lemme tell youse somethin', Docta Neo Cortex. If youse gonna keep lying and abusing dat unfortunate creature an' everyone else 'round ya, you ain' gonna have nobody left t' back youse up when it's your turn to be lied to an' abused."

"And what about my legions of fans?"

"Stan Twitter always finds a way," he glared. "And I run a very powerful BTS stan page. I can' wait for the ARMY to destroy you an' everything you love." And with that, he shut the door behind him.

Cortex stood there, dazed. "I seriously forgot he ran a K-pop stan Twitter account unironically." He looked around the seemingly empty corridor in shock. "And that it hasn't damaged his reputation."

"I can hear ya, y'know dat?!" Pinstripe's muffled voice barked from behind his door.

And so too could N. Gin. He had managed to duck behind one of the walls in the branching hallway, and had heard every last detail of their conversation.

"He likes me..." he murmured, completely unsure how to react, other than to quickly and quietly make his way back to his own lab.

N. Gin didn't even know why he wanted to go, he just... did. Maybe to be somewhere familiar. Now really wasn't the best time for thinking, anyways, especially when every thought boiled down to 'he likes me.'

Which should have been impossible. Nobody liked him. Well, maybe if he gained a significant amount of weight from eating all those meals, DeviantArt would certainly love him. But this isn't DeviantArt, so remove your hand from your pants.

'Is  anything  real anymore? Was everyone in on this? Does he know that I know?'

Soon enough, he entered his humble abode. He noticed that most of his furniture and items were out of place. Not trashed, but were cleaner than they were months ago, and placed in different areas.

"...must've redecorated while I was asleep," he thought aloud. The ginger wandered around the laboratory/bedroom, taking in the surroundings.

He noticed that, when he turned around, a small mirror was now hanging from the back of his door, and stood face-to-face with it. N. Gin smiled at the sight of his new, yet also old hair. He found that it was pleasing to both sight and touch.

N. Gin giggled to himself, and continued on. "I think... I think I like this new setup." He waddled across the room, soaking in even the most minuet details, such as new lightbulbs in the ceiling lights.

To his delight, the unknown masters behind whoever redesigned his room left his computing systems untouched, save for a bit of dusting and the removal of gamer gunk. He sighed, satisfied with everything.

Then he noticed something peculiar sticking out from behind one of his harddrives. "What in the...?" He reached out and pulled out the mysterious object and gasped.

It was a McDonald's bag.

Nervous, he opened it, and found various scraps inside. It took him a moment to realize that these were the "moldy" pieces of the Hatsune Miku meal that he had consumed.

But McDonald's burgers don't collect mold, something that a clearer mind would have recalled.

A deep, scared feeling socked N. Gin in the pits of his stomach. Nervously, he took a deep breath, and exhaled. He rolled up the bag and placed it back behind the hard drive, though it was now harder to see.

"I can't let you go yet. I... I know I should, but not yet," he murmured. "Forgive me."

"N. Gin?" Cortex's voice rang out from the room's entrance.

He gasped and turned around. "Yes, Doctor Cortex?"

"Are... you alright?" Cortex asked, approaching him. "Do you need to lie down?"

N. Gin looked at Cortex, unsure whether to confront him or not. "Doctor, that..."

Cortex kept looking at Gin with the utmost concern. N. Gin smiled weakly.

"That would be wonderful."

Chapter Text

"This official broadcast for the Giant Robot Battle Network has been sponsored by Neckbeard in a Can!" an announcer chirped from the television set as Crash placed down a bowl of M&Ms.

"I think we're all set," Crunch observed. "At least, for the food."

Coco, who was standing by the door anxiously, nodded. "It's almost time, too. Change the channel to the news station." Crash happily obliged. "Thanks, big brother."

The bandicoot grinned and gave her a thumbs up.

"They're going to be here on time, Coco," Aku Aku assured her. "They're racers, after all, so they're very good with time."

"I know, I know, I just want things to be as perfect as possible for-"

A knock came from the door. Coco gasped and opened it eagerly.

A group of female anthropomorphic marsupials stood before her, all smiling warmly.

"'Ello," greeted a bandicoot with black hair and a green crop top. "Sorry we're late. Isabella over 'ere took her sweet time with her hair."

Another bandicoot, this one with short blonde hair and a blue jumpsuit, rolled her eyes. "I was doing more than that!" Isabella huffed.

"Well, anyways," butted in a bandicoot with green hair and an equally green minidress with darker green leggings. "We're sorry for the wait."

"No, no, please! Come in!" Coco urged, and stood off to the side.

The group of girls entered soon afterwards. One of them, who wore a sleeveless white lab coat, bowed quickly and politely. "Thank you for inviting us," she greeted.

"It's no problem, Megumi," Coco smiled as the blue-haired marsupial followed the rest of the Nitro Squad inside. She went to close the door, but was surprised to see a familiar figure standing in the doorway.

"I-I just made it in time, I reckon," Pasadena O'Possum huffed.

Coco gasped. "Pasadena?!" She ran in for a hug, and the possum reciprocated.

"I missed ya, girly," Pasadena squealed. "Gotta hold mah tongue, though. That there broadcast is gonna start at any moment now."

She shut the door behind her, and followed Coco to the living room where everyone else had already gathered at. A commercial for Dingo's Diner was wrapping up as the living room clock struck 11.

"It's time!" Isabella squealed.

The TV screen lit up with the well-known introduction to Channel 96 News Now, the TV turned up loud enough for its short jingle to be heard with ease.

Then the screen cut to an outdoor pavilion, where Chick, Stew, and Tawna all sat at a round table. A crowd of fans, presumably Tawna's, were gated off behind them. Some held signs while others were clamoring for her attention.

Nobody thought the chicken co-anchors were hot.

"Good afternoon, ladies, gentlemen, and other gender identities, I am Chick Gizzard Lips," the stern reporter greeted.

"And I'm Stew... last name!" the peppy, cannibalistic cohost grinned. "Today, we have an extra special treat for you viewers at home. Right, Chick?"

Chick adjusted his tie nervously. "Right you are, Stew," he echoed, his voice miraculously not faltering.

"He's not usually this anxious," the black-haired bandicoot, Liz, noted. "Poor bloke's probably shaken from last month's on-air incident."

"How does that dude have a job after admitting something like that live on air?" Ami, the green-haired bandicoot, added.

On the screen, the two reporters were taking turns briefly recapping what the public had known about the OnlyFans incident: Tawna was one of, if not the most, famous users on the app, and had been making a fortune off of her content. Cortex, for reasons nobody knew why, began to post pictures of himself as well. Not long afterwards, Tawna's funds, along with those from other users, were stolen, and he became a prime suspect, but had not been taken into custody.

"But, folks, that is just the tip of the iceberg," Chick continued. "Today, Tawna will be giving the whole world her tell-all story on this unique event in Wumpa Island history."

Stew prepared their shared set of notecards. "Alright, Tawna, here we go," he said. "So tell us, how did you find out this was even happening?"

"I had gotten a call from the Bank of Viscount asking about a sudden and drastic deposit from my account connected to my OnlyFans. Alarm bells went off in my head, y'know, and-and I just started freaking out internally and externally. I was a mess."

Empathetically, Stew placed a wing over his heart.

"We completely understand, Tawna," Chick replied. "How did you deal with this after calming down?"

"Well, first I called my friends, and I considered staying with them a bit, truthfully. But when I had gotten the phone call, I was close to leaving my studio apartment anyways. I had plans to meet up with my old friends."

Crunch looked at the PS5 longingly. "You got that right."

"I was still scared, but it was good to be able to be with my loved ones again. They're not even friends, really, they're more like family to me."

Coco and Crash looked at each other and grinned excitedly.

"Would any of your family happen to include Crash Bandicoot?" Chick asked. "I hate to be a bother in regards to romance, but how have you been communicating with him?"

Tawna folded her hands, becoming even more anxious than Chick. "Yes, we- he's part of that family, along with his siblings, and Aku Aku."

"Oh, good, I exist," the mask muttered.

"It's not awkward for me, at least, with him being my ex and all," she exhaled. "If this is a tell-all, I'll add this too, then. I'm a lesbian."

The crowd behind them went dead silent, and she cringed at herself. Meanwhile, at home, Crash, Coco, and Aku Aku all stared at the screen in shock.

"THEY BETTER ACCEPT HER, OR I'M GOING TO-" Isabella began to threaten, but Megumi placed a hand on her shoulder, and she stopped talking.

Chick cleared his throat. "A lesbian? That's, uh, wonderful to hear, Tawna. We here at Channel 96 News support you, r-right Stew?"

"Of course we do!" he beamed. "So, what's your girlfriend's name?"

Tawna blushed. "M-Megumi."

This elicited gasps from Crash, Coco, Aku Aku, and Crunch.

"I mean, I knew she was a lesbian, but I didn't know she was gonna gather the courage to ask you out!" Crunch told Megumi. "Guess old Crunch's pep talk worked on her."

"She did mention you, yes," Megumi nodded shyly. "I told her I love her no matter how much she wants the world to know it. And that all that matters is that she loves me back."

Everyone gave this a collective "aw", causing Megumi to blush more.

"Wait, hold on," Liz said. "So did she just mention herself and Megumi?"

Crunch shook his head. "Oh, I know, everyone in the Nitro Squad's a lesbian."

"No, actually," Megumi corrected. "We initiated Pasadena the other day. Now we're a group of lesbians with a bisexual in our group. And we love her no matter who she ends up with."

Pasadena looked down sheepishly. "Aw, shucks, gals, now it's mah time to get on blushin'."

Then Chick stood up.

"I can't do this anymore."

"HOMOPHOBIC PIECE OF SHIT!" Ami screamed at the TV.

"No, wait!" Coco urged. "Let's just see where this goes, okay?"

Tawna backed nervously into her seat. "W-Was it something I said?"

Chick's composure was falling apart. "I- well, yes, actually, but no." He inhaled deeply. "Stew?"

"Y-Yes, Chick?" his co-anchor replied, unsure of what else to do.

The formerly stern chicken gulped. "I know what happened a little while back was... interesting, to say the least, but I cannot lie when I say that it made me further intrigued by you, as much as it scared me then. Even if we both lose our jobs after this, I just want you to know that... I-I'm in love with you, Stew. Completely. I'm gay."

Ami covered her mouth in shock. "Forget I said anything," came her muffled voice.

Stew gasped. "Y-You mean it?"

"I am one to rarely crack a joke, Stew, and now is not one of those times," Chick affirmed. "You may be a cannibalistic heathen, but I cannot ignore my desires to be with you."

In response, Stew stood up from his seat and embraced Chick. "I promise, I won't do anything to hurt you. I love you so much, Chick."

Tawna looked at the camera in confusion, and the footage shifted as though the camera person had shrugged.

"HOMOSEXUAL POULTRY?!" Aku Aku screamed.

"KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS!" everyone else in the house, save for Crash, chanted.

And then they did, causing the broadcast to cut off.

The small hut erupted with the screams of everyone inside it. Some clutched onto others and shook them violently as the absurdity of the situation became the forefront. At least, until Ami picked up one of the glass bowls of popcorn and slammed it onto the ground, shattering it into millions of sharp and harmful pieces.

Everyone stopped and stared at her.

"...I'll clean that up, pronto."

Chapter Text

"So long story short, unless I say so, they ain't gonna stop sellin' the BTS Meal anytime soon," Pinstripe's voice bragged from N. Gin's cell phone.

"That's... interesting," N. Gin replied as he continued his way down a trail. Cortex had decided that having a daily nature walk a while away from the castle or any traces of the city would benefit the cyborg. Luckily, Neo was caught up in a phone call of his own, giving N. Gin an excuse to call his only true friend.

"Wha- oh. Oh! Sorry, I didn' realize it was too soon to start talkin' 'bout McDonald's. I'm sorry."

N. Gin shook his head. "No, you're fine. I asked for a life update, after all."

"So it's my turn for yours, eh? How's dat homemade physiotherapy goin' for ya?"

He ran his artificial fingers through his hair. "It's been easier to use these, yes. I was able to make a few modifications so that I can use my technology to get some work done."

"Oh yeah, youse were tellin' me 'bout dat last time," Pinstripe said. "Hey, uh, how's dat old piece of shit? Cortex, I mean."

The cyborg looked behind him to make sure that the scientist wasn't close to him. Sure enough, he was out of sight. "I guess I must've lost him," N. Gin muttered.

"Good. He can die in those woods alone."

"Wow, Pinstripe."

The potoroo sighed. "Look, I get bein' devoted to him or whateva, but try to see where I'm comin' from, alright? At least with you, he's lightenin' up wit' his behavior, because, y'know. Therapy."

"I know that's not the real reason, Pinstripe."

They remained silent for a moment. "Did he actually confess to ya? Dat sonnofa-"

"I heard what you two said."

He could hear the potoroo sigh and say something in Italian. "And?"

"What do you mean 'and?'"

"Did ya say somethin' 'bout dat to him? Aren't youse also in love with him or somethin'?"

"I-I used to be, but no. I haven't felt that way since... whenever this whole situation started."

N. Gin began to pace nervously, Cortex still nowhere to be found.

"Ah shit," Pinstripe muttered. "I got nothin' to say, Gin, I'm sorry. But if he don't take 'no' for an answer, youse come hit me up, okay?"

"Where else could I go, anyways?" N. Gin sighed. "Thank you, I mean. You really don't have to do all of this. Paying my hospital bills, helping pay back the stolen OnlyFans money, and just... everything."

The marsupial gave a quick laugh. "Dat's what friends are for, Gin. Sorry for interruptin' the walk."

"No, it's-"

"Well, Nina, it's good to hear you got your job back!" Cortex's voice came from behind him, still on his cell phone. "I promise, I won't bother my precious niece on the job... oh, oh right, I forgot I was banned."

N. Gin leaned into his cell phone. "Gotta go. I'll talk to you later."

"Good luck, Gin," Pinstripe said. "Arrivederci, mio amico."

The line went dead. N. Gin hung up and continued walking, now that Cortex was with him again.

"Alright, good luck with rush hour... yes, yes, I love you too. Goodbye." He could hear Cortex stop for a moment, presumably to leave the call, and then continued onwards. Nothing could be heard but their feet traversing the wooden trail, the occasional call of the wildlife interspersed in the near-silence.

It was awkward, to say the least.

"So, I was thinking," Cortex prompted. "Maybe after this, since you've been making a lot of progress in therapy, that I treat you to dinner. Not, like, fast food, unless pizza counts. I mean, we can get a pizza. But I was thinking more like an actual restaurant. Just the two of us."

"...are you hitting on me right now?"

"What?!" Cortex raised his hands up defensively. "No, I'm just offering you something nice!"

"Oh." N. Gin looked at Cortex, still unsure. Then again, he'd rather take potential altruism over anything that he'd been subjected to in the past. "I was thinking maybe we could do pizza, then. From that Nuclear Pizza place in the city."

Cortex nodded. "Alright."

They continued walking down the trail, consumed by their thoughts.

"...you don't really think I was hitting on you, do you?" Cortex asked.

N. Gin wasn't sure how to react. He knew that Cortex didn't know that he knew, but saying "yes" outright could possibly make things worse for himself.

"I misunderstood you when you asked that. Forgive me," was all he said.

The two made their way to what turned out to be a ledge not too far from the path they were on. Both scientists approached the edge and stood there, soaking in the sights around them. The cliff gave a grand view of the vast forest below them. Mountains acted as the backdrop, and the beautifully setting sun topped it all off.

It was, needless to say, the most beautiful thing they've seen in the past several months.

N. Gin sighed out of tranquility. "I missed this."

"Yeah. Me too."

They watched as the sky's colors began to gradually shift from a warm orange to a series of dark blues and purples, not sure what else to do in that moment.

Eventually, Cortex checked his phone. "Oh, damn, it's almost 8, we gotta start heading out."

N. Gin turned away from the view. "Alright, then." The two began to head back home, side by side. He could tell that Cortex wanted to say something in that moment, but was holding back for the ginger's sake.

"Hey," N. Gin prompted. "Did you hear about what happened on Channel 96 this afternoon?"

"Oh, please, I boycotted the news after they kept running unflattering stories about my Miku binder," Cortex rolled his eyes.

The cyborg clasped his hands together awkwardly. "Tawna came out as a lesbian. And Chick and Stew made out with each other."

"What?" Cortex stopped and looked at N. Gin in disbelief. "What the fuck did you just say to me?"

"Check your phone if you don't believe me."

Cortex entered his passcode and opened his web browser. "This isn't a hallucination caused by withdrawl, is it? Because, I swear, if it is, I'm not going to bring you back to the- oh. Oh my wumpa."

N. Gin nodded. "Yep."

"HOW DO CHICKENS MAKE OUT?! THEY HAVE BEAKS! BEAKS! AND TH- NO WONDER THEY CUT THE CAMERAS!"

"And, somehow, they still have their jobs there."

"...y'know what?" Cortex said as he put his phone on sleep mode. "Those bitches gay. Good for them, good for them."

They looked at each other and quickly broke into fits of laughter.

"What am I e-even saying anymore?!" Cortex chuckled.

"Welcome to my life," Gin joked. He found himself wiping away tiny beads of tears that were forming at the corners of his eyes.

Cortex, however, did not miss this detail. "It's good to have you back, N. Gin," he told him in between a series of wheezes.

N. Gin choked back a sniffle. "I really did miss this."

And then they continued onwards down the path, back to the castle. Back to their home.