Chapter Text
Sebastian was in hell. He was in hell and everybody was laughing.
Nothing could be worse than what had just happened.
Absolutely nothing could have prepared himself for what he was witnessing.
It all started after Punch-out had finally had enough of Dog-fucker’s shit and decided to beat him to death.
Sebastian had watched, laughing uproariously as Dog-fucker died.
Only for a familiar flash of light to subsume the human’s body and spirit away all of his wounds.
Dog-fucker sat up with a shout. Alive.
Dog-fucker was immortal.
Sebastian was in hell.
It is snowing on mount fuji.
Zerum was in hell. She was in hell and everybody was laughing.
She had been busy regaling Painter about the importance of chewing ass and kicking gum— when all of a sudden her vision had been filled with green static.
She found herself staring at an old man with a hat and cane, grinning at her in a creepy way.
”Hello, dear Zerum. I have, been waiting to meet, for quite some, time.” The old man said.
”What?” Zerum blinked. Or winked. She only had one eye so it was hard to tell. ”How do you know my name?”
”Why wouldn’t I? We are, family after all.” The old man said cryptically.
What.
The old man raised a hand and lifted his hat off of the top of his head in a grand flourish, revealing a pair of bunny ears. “I am your Great, great, great Grandfather.”
WHAT.
Zerum was in hell.
A pickle shifts uneasily under the deep sea bunny.
”Hey, Sebastian?” Immy poked the fishman on the forehead, and Sebastian realized he had somehow ended up on the floor.
“Huh—WHAT?!” Sebastian lurched from the floor, looking around wildly. “What the…”
“Seb,” Immy rested a hand on Sebastian’s arm, only to have it swatted away. “Ow!—“
”What the hell is going on?!” Sebastian shouted, not in the mood for any more of the immortal Expendable’s games.
“Okay, okay!” Immy raised their hands up in surrender. “Do you know what Cuil Theory is?”
Sebastian felt an eyelid twitch as he grit his teeth. He sucked in a sharp breath, willing his anger to subside as he put on a crooked grin and clasped his hands together. “No… Pray tell, what is this Cuil Theory?”
Immy smiled, which was weird, because normally their face would be covered in static—
“Let cuil be a unit of measurement. One Cuil equals One level of abstraction away from the reality of a situation. For example: you ask me for a hamburger. At one Cuil, if you asked me for a hamburger, I gave you a raccoon. At two Cuils, you asked me for a hamburger, but it turns out I don’t really exist.”
Where Immy was once standing was now a picture of a hamburger.
All three of Sebastian’s eyes blinked, one after the other. “Umm—“
”At three Cuils—“
”JESUS FUCK!” Sebastian shrieks.
”You awake as a hamburger. You start screaming only to have special sauce fly from your lips.”
THE WORLD IS IN SEPIA.
“Four Cuils: Why are we speaking german?” Immy asks, suddenly dressed as a mime as they cry softly, the head of a young cow cradled in their lap. Sebastian sees Mr. Lopee staring from a distance and the cow falls apart into patties.
Sebastian looks down at Immy and they have pickles for eyes while they sing the song that gives birth to the universe.
YOU ARE THE UNIVERSE.
“You ask for a hamburger,” Immy continues as if nothing had happened.
”I don’t want it,” Sebastian responds, but his voice is weak.
“I give you a hamburger.” Immy continues as if nothing had happened.
Sebastian brings out his gun and shoots the immortal Expendable.
It’s too late.
Hadal Blacksite is engulfed within itself. Across a variety of hidden dimensions, Sebastian is dismayed to find that he had been reborn as an ocelot. Mr. Shade disapproves. A crack echoes through the universe in defiance of conventional physics as cosmological background noise shifts from randomness to a perfect A Flat.
Painter’s internal fans hum along in perfect pitch with the background radiation of the universe.
The Angler and his fellows fall from the air as the sun engulfs all of the world’s oceans. The Angel of the Banlands weeps.
Sebastian twists sideways as he blinks back into the corporeal world, disoriented. Only for Immy to suddenly be there, handing him a hamburger. Sebastian takes the hamburger and throws it into their face, the immortal Expendable’s body collapses under the strain of reconstitution.
The universe has reasserted itself.
A particular goldfish feasts on rotten coral for the rest of its natural life.
“You know…” Sebastian speaks for the first time. “I’m starting to think that trying to smoke rotten coral was a bad idea…”
“Probably.” Sachiel responds, their voice an unnaturally deep baritone. “Though realistically with gills, the act of smoking becomes a pointless endeavor. Since the smoke mostly just seeps out through your gill slits.”
“Hey, Sachiel?”
“Yes?”
“Shut the fuck up…”