Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It hurt. Ithurtithurtithurtithurt.

The back of his mind said to him, "Of course it does, dying is supposed to hurt." Did he have room to complain? This was what he had signed up for. And, yes, this was dying.

Time slowed to give him as much awareness of this horrible, horrible moment as possible. He couldn’t force any part of himself to move, something in him (instincts, programming) told him to stay very, very still. 

He distantly noticed himself become visible again. He watched as Steve Cobs' crazed grin dropped, instead turning to flat disinterest.

Was this what a prey animal felt like in a predator’s grasp? Paralyzed in the moment the claw punctured you, knowing it was your last?

He was bombarded by popup messages, each trying to tell him that something was very, very wrong. He didn't need them for that. The pain was clear enough. 

He fell to his knees. The dull ache was nothing compared to the burning, throbbing, jolting, hollow, awfulawfulawful.

He fell on his back, the knife pushed out a little by the motion, scraping again against his insides. 

It. Hurt.

Instead of running, using the time he'd just bought for him, MePhone collapsed by his side. Part of him was glad, but not the part that wanted him to go and be safe.

"I told you not to die for me." MePad couldn’t see him, but he knew he was crying. 

He could only see the sky. Why was it so pretty? It shouldn’t be, everything was ending. MePad wanted to cry, too.

The errors were piling up. He couldn't feel his legs. He suddenly had so much he wanted to say. He might've saved MePhone anyway, even if things weren't like this. They were at odds, he disapproved of not telling everyone their true nature. But, he’d known him all his life. 

That aside, the death of MePhone was the death of everyone MePad had ever known, too. That made saving him less complicated.

"I didn't."

Keeping his eyes open was too much work.

He couldn't feel his- anything. Not his screen, not his shell, just his internal processes.

If he had the ability to move, he would've sighed with relief.

A death like this was fitting, wasn't it? He'd spent almost every waking moment on the show and, more importantly, its contestants. He wasn’t sure if he was capable of feeling love, but was love just an emotion? If love was a thing you did, he had done it.

He couldn't feel his task manager.

It was almost time, then. The last thoughts that he would ever think, "If my death helps them survive, I would not have a single regret."

And then he woke up.

It had been forever and an instant. He came to, like someone unaware they’d fallen asleep. Except, he was standing.

But, not for long, because just a foreverinstant ago he’d been laying down, and so he was unprepared to hold himself up. He simply tipped over and banged his corner on the floor. 

It hurt less than being stabbed, but he trembled still with the remembered pain. It echoed, like the heat might as you pulled your hand from the fire. 

He was in a hallway. He was feeling sensations, like the carpet under his legs, and the sturdy press of a wall against his back. The walls were orange. The carpet was familiar.

Was the afterlife Hotel OJ? That didn’t seem right.

He sat still for a long, long while.

He was dead. He knew this. Steve had murderous intent, and had stabbed him, and he had died.

But, whatever post-life existence he'd found, it felt… Just like being alive.

He could hurt, though the pain of being stabbed was thankfully fading. He could smell cleaning solution, and with a glance to his right, he noticed a wet floor sign shading a small wet spot on the carpet. Freshly cleaned.

That was enough sitting and contemplating for the moment, MePad decided. He would have plenty of time to do that for… Eternity? 

He stood up and started walking, absently noting more details of his surroundings as he went. There were doors, just like the ones in the Hotel. He stopped, when he saw what he now knew was Pickle’s room number. The door was ajar. 

He peeked inside, and it was just as it had been a few hours before. Taco sat on the bed, eyes staring at nothing. Pickle’s body was on the on the floor, discarded. This gave him pause, for a number of reasons. Of course, the main being that she was his friend. Taco was here.

Did that mean she was dead, too? Well- MeLife had been terminated, he knew she was dead. But, contestants had called MePhone, somehow. He had hoped that meant they were still able to be saved.

He didn’t want to be wrong about that. He wanted them to live.

“Taco?” He shouldered his way into the room, gently pushing the door open.

“Oh.” She looked up, and didn’t even attempt a smile, “You’re back early.”

“Ah, yes, I decided to stand in front of MePhone4. Did- Are you here usually, before he revives you, or have we failed?”

She stared at him, blankly. 

Perhaps he hadn’t been clear enough, “Did MePhone die in the confrontation?”

She was looking at him, now, as though he’d grown arms. “What are you talking about?”

He came closer, carefully walking around Pickle (it was disturbing to see a corpse in the afterlife.) “I am talking about the situation that led to our deaths.”

“Our?” She squinted up at him, and he felt awkward. Was he asking the wrong questions? 

“Yes. We both died.”

“No? Okay, like, maybe this is insensitive.” She shook her wrist, like she was trying to shoo away the concept. “Is this whole situation getting to you? Do you need to run a diagnostic? Do you run diagnostics?”

On the bright side, he was no longer as concerned as to her status, because he was too busy being baffled. “When MeLife got unplugged, I took a knife for MePhone to buy him time. I do not know how much clearer I can state it. I am speaking the correct language, right?”

“Yes, but you’re saying nonsense.”

“I believe we’re at an impasse.” 

“So we are.” She broke eye contact to examine her hand, as though that was more interesting. 

“Miss Taco, if I may, I was very proud of you for leaving his body when Miss Microphone went to fetch you. In this echo of the hotel, whatever it is, let us not dwell any further on this scene.” 

Her eyes stayed locked on to her hand, for a few moments. Then they flicked over to “Pickle.”

Quickly, she looked back at her hand with a grimace.

Finally, Taco nodded and stood up. They exited the room swiftly, and he was again proud. He didn't think that interrupting her vigil was inappropriate. That body could not be the real Pickle. If he was also dead that should cause him to be just as conscious as them, and not an inanimate object on the floor. 

They walked slowly through the halls, without a destination beyond “elsewhere.” He wouldn't tell her this, because she might get defensive, but he knew it was good to be moving around. When one is anxious, moving tells the brain that you are doing something. You're putting distance between yourself and the imagined predator.

He supposed that there was a real danger, but it was too late for them to escape it. Tricking their brains couldn't hurt.

MePad wasn't sure how long they walked together in silence. Their feet made no sound on the carpet.

Eventually they entered a stairwell and descended. They paced around the ground floor, passing the same doors over and over.

Someone screamed.

They shared a glance, and ran towards it.

The scene they arrived at was familiar, but not. Paper was covering his mouth and trembling as he stared at a giant glass, tipped over, and the wet spot it made on the floor.

Was this what life flashing before your eyes actually entailed? Did the dead have to relive it all before they could move on?

And-

"Toilet?!" He exclaimed, when it really happened it had been Toilet, and-

"MePad!"

A phone not much smaller than him with a giant, inexpressive X where a face was supposed to be appeared, and he couldn't stop himself from flinching. Oh, no. Oh, please, no.

"I failed you." He said, because begging would be no use.

"Failed ME?" The shell-of-a-phone Toilet was puppeting pulled itself towards him, and landing just close enough to be able to grab him with its arms, "Never, MePad! I'll admit to ya, it was pretty dreary, after Mister Phone gave me the boot. But Master ADAM gave me this great professional deev-elope-mint opper-chu-nity, so I'm doing swell now!"

Oh no, this was just like Taco. "If you are here, with me, that means you have DIED, Toilet! I didn't protect you!" He wished that he had the arms to grab the phone's shoulders back. He wanted to clutch Toilet, even if he couldn’t feel it, and shake him until he understood how sorry MePad was. 

"Wh- Now that's just silly!"

"EXCUSE ME." Mic screamed. Everybody stopped what they were doing to look at her, even Toilet let go of one of MePad's sides to turn to her. "Could SOMEBODY tell me what's going on?"

"Training simulator-"

"While the afterlife-"

The face of MePhoneX did not change, and yet, he distinctly shared a glance with it.

“We have all-”

“Well, I’m learning to-”

They both cut themselves off, again. 

“If we’re all dead, then, like, why is he still here?” Nickel gestured to a tall, metal spoon MePad had seen around last time. They reacted with a "Hey!"

This time, only MePad answered. “I believe we’re currently reliving our last day and processing it, the life flashing before our eyes people speak of.” 

“Once we’re done with this lame party, I better end up in a different afterlife from the rest of you chumps.” Trophy said, and knocked back his drink.

“Oh, I’m sure yours will be separate.” A filing cabinet MePad had also never met said and gestured pointedly downwards. Trophy choked on his drink.

“Not that I don’t believe you,” Balloon started, smiling wide and strained. “But wouldn’t we all remember dying?”

He didn’t have an explanation for that part, “I don’t know. I remember my death very clearly.” MePhoneX squeezed MePad’s casing a little tighter.

“I also totally believe you.” Lightbulb was worse at sounding earnest, “How did, uh, you die, pal? Buddy? Buckaroo?”

That he knew the answer to, which was a relief. “Simple. After MeLife was unplugged, all of you were degenerated, aside from Bow and Dough. Steve Cobs survived his fall, and began to attack MePhone with a knife. I took a blow, to give him time to escape. I am most certainly dead, and if you are here with me, you all must be as well.”

“You know what?” Taco spoke up, for the first time since they’d left Pickle’s side. “Let’s go outside. Enjoy the party, everyone. Good luck with, uh, the blank beverage situation.”

“TACO IS HERE? HOW CAN THIS GET ANY WORSE?” Shouted Paper.

Taco teleported them outside. One moment, they stood together in the hotel. In the next, Taco, MePad, and MePhoneX stood alone in the forest.

“MePad.” She moved her hand to rest gently on his back, “Are you… feeling okay?”

He was tiring of no one accepting their fate. He supposed most mortal beings don't want to die. He was different from the contestants, and from Toilet, clearly. He had chosen to die.

Should he have left them to their denial? 

What he said, because he wasn't sure how to articulate any of those previous thoughts diplomatically, was, “My body, though it is most likely an ethereal representation of how I was in life, is functi-”

“This is exactly what I'm talking about.” She pat his back, once, harder than necessary. “I know I'm stressed about what's happening around here, but you've lost it.”

“I don't know…” Toilet said, hand scratching the top of MePhoneX’s head. “He looks like he's telling the truth!” 

Taco raised an eyebrow in his direction, “And what would you know about that?”

“I've been studying MePad and Mister Phone’s facey expressions for a long time, you know!” MePhoneX puffed up, claw-like hand tapping confidently against its screen. “MePad starts lookin’ all blank-like when he's lyin! Look at his face!”

… Did he?

“Sure, whatever, MePad is an ineffective liar. Just because he believes what he's saying doesn't make it true. ”

They thought he was delusional. 

“Is that right? Have you lost touch with reality?” Toilet asked, with not a hint of accusation mixed in. His voice was earnest, and kind. 

He looked away from both of them. “I died. Perhaps I'm wrong about other parts of this situation, but I am certain that I died.” He remembered the shock as the blade was thrust through his screen, more painful than he could even process. The way it was all-encompassing, the way it froze him. The way slipping away from his senses was peaceful-

“Come on, let’s go.” Taco said, pulling him out of his thoughts. She turned and started walking. He followed. So did Toilet.

No one said anything.

The grass was nice, under his feet. The Hotel’s carpet was alright, but it was coarse in a way he hadn't made time to get used to. He often found grass to be refreshingly cool. Sometimes it was pleasantly sunwarmed, which he didn’t mind either. It was almost never too hot, not when it was still green and alive. Not like sand, which was uncomfortable most of the time.

MePhoneX’s body language (or was it Toilet’s body language? It wasn’t Toilet’s body, though…) was tense. He was holding its arms tight to its body, hands clasped. He wondered what he was feeling. For some reason, he didn’t ask.

They stepped out of the woods and MePad saw the lake. Taco kept walking, and he followed her to the dock. She sat down, legs dangling above the water. They both sat to match her.

“Many people find bodies of water relaxing.” He said. He wasn’t sure why.

“Yes, well, it seems like we both need it.” She sighed. “It’s better than staring at his corpse, you were right about that.”

There was silence for a couple moments. Not completely, though. The wind still ruffled the treetops, and created splashing waves on the surface of the water. 

“If, erm…” Toilet started, “If you’re the real MePad, and you gotta be cuz you’re acting just like ‘im, then why are you in my training simulator?”

“You were tricked. ADAM is controlled by Steve Cobs. It is not a simulator, you are piloting a real robot.” He said it plainly, it was just something he knew to be true. 

“Ah.” 

They three observed the scenery and not each other. 

“Personally, I think you just had a bad dream.” Taco said, next.

“That would be the better outcome. Then, I would not have failed you both.”

She turned to face him, glaring. “You keep saying stuff like that. So what, if we did all die? How would that be the fault of MePad specifically? I mean, barring a murder spree.”

“No, rest assured I have never killed anyone on purpose.” It did sound unreasonable, when she said it so plainly. “But, I have a responsibility to both of you. To everyone-”

“Sure, sure, keep believing that.”

Toilet cut in, “Well, if it was a dream, and I’ve had plenny ‘o nightmares in my days, that just means we need to perk you up again, yeah?” He leaned against him, wrapping an arm partially around his back. 

Taco mirrored the action, “I suppose that’s most reasonable.”

Something inside him felt warm.

They spent several hours together, gossiping. Toilet wanted to be caught up on what happened on the show since he’d been gone (not much.) 

Taco told them about a book she’d stolen from Hotel OJ at some point, a children’s novel about cats. She said it was beneath her, but did still describe the entire plot, including pauses to explain things such as why the daytime warriors were unpopular with the fulltime clan members, with the passion of someone who definitely cared.

MePad told them about a book he’d been reading in his off hours about deep sea life. It was fascinating, because the ocean was so far out of his area of expertise.

The light started hitting the lake differently, and they had to all stand up and move to the other side of the dock to keep the glare out of their eyes. 

Toilet was midway through an explanation of how to use a stud finder, with a brief detour to why putting things directly into drywall was inadvisable, and a longer detour into asbestos and how annoying it was to come across. MePad could not have explained how they got to any of these topics.

Suddenly, mid-sentence, Toilet cut himself off to gasp. MePhoneX turned as though there was someone behind them. “MePad was right! You tricked me!”

Another voice came through the microphone, and MePad stiffened. “I was gone all that time, and you only deactivated one contestant? I had higher hopes for you.” 

MePad scrambled to his feet, aware of Taco behind him. She tried to peek out, but he readjusted to cover her. 

MePhoneX went still.

“My turn.”

It all happened so quickly. It wasn’t moving like a person anymore. The way it floated off the ground and moved in a perfectly straight line reminded him of the hand of a claw machine.

It disappeared, and his artificial breath quickened. He wasn’t sure which way to turn, how to keep her safe. They were cornered.

She screamed. Her shell thunked onto the wood. She didn’t make a single other noise. He couldn’t move.

“There’s one.” Steve said, flat, and cold. “And, you know, you’ve been entertaining, but I don’t think I’ll be renewing your contract. Nothing personal.”

He was shoved backwards, off the end of the dock. He thought he felt her body scrape his leg, for a moment. The water splashed, and-

He felt it seep into his ports, into the cracks between buttons and casings, and he knew that he was supposed to turn himself off. Just like when he was stabbed, to prevent short circuiting, he needed to shut down.

And yet, he spent his final moments instead gazing again into the sky. The shadow of the dock against the water. The way the light refracted off of the lake’s chaotic surface, blocking his view of the clouds. Taco’s empty, lifeless body floating up there, on its side. One of the tomato slices had fallen out, and chased him down into the water.

He’d been foolish. He didn’t even buy time. Nobody was going to escape the Hotel without his help.

MePad watched bubbles stream up from his body to jostle her, each one an extra drop of water that was in his casing, until he stopped being able to see, and to feel, and to be.

And then he woke up.

Chapter Text

This time, he didn’t fall over. This time, he sat down on purpose because-

He’d just died again. He’d felt his insides spark. He’d let it happen with the knowledge that, after Steve was done with them, there wouldn’t be anybody to fish his body out of the lake. 

And now he was in Hotel OJ, surrounded by air, carpet under his feet, alive.

MePad was starting to suspect this wasn’t the afterlife. He wasn’t sure what it would be instead. Quickly, he scrambled to his feet. Taco had died, too. But, he was fine, so she-

Sure enough, when he got back to Pickle’s room and peeked through the threshold, there she was. Sitting, despondent, on his bed. Sulking in her misery.

He composed himself. He wanted to yell. He was not going to yell. “Excuse me, Miss Taco. Do you remember what just happened, at the lake?”

Taco looked up at him, and blinked a couple times. “Uh, you’re… Back early.” She’d said that last time, too. “But, uh, no. What happened at the lake?”

Oh no. “You told me about Leafdapple. Toilet explained asbestos removal. I was pushed in.”

She looked, suddenly, concerned but covered it quickly with nonchalance. “If this is your idea of humor, you haven’t found your audience. And, it's Leafstar.”

“Noted. Consider attending the party, I think Miss Microphone would appreciate your presence.” He teleported away before she could respond. It was rude, she was in mourning. He… Needed to test some things.

When he reappeared, he was in the middle of the party. It was well attended by people who looked alive. Bomb was playing a video game. Lightbulb and Baseball were muttering to each other. The filing cabinet was deep in conversation with Test Tube. No one here was reacting like people with death looming over their heads. There was no screaming, or tearful last minute love confessions, and not a single person was curled up in the fetal position.

Everything that had happened in the last few hours was undone. No one remembered, except for him. Unless everyone had suddenly become incredibly great actors, but he was fairly sure that wasn’t true. He’d met them.

The undercurrent of tension to this joyful scene was for him alone.

What could he even do in this situation? He checked his calendar, and sure enough his systems thought it was the same day it had been the last two times he’d died. It probably wasn’t worth bothering everyone over. Unless warning them could save them from their fate?

There were hundreds of options for what to do next. If he presumed that he could not die, then he could become very reckless for the purposes of saving everyone. However, he couldn’t be sure that was how this worked. He was willing to give up his life in service of these people, but it was better as a last resort. Giving up his life at an inopportune time was wasteful.

But he was starting to suspect that this was some sort of… Temporal anomaly. Technically, he could be hallucinating, but he hadn’t done that before, to his knowledge, so it wasn’t likely. And, in that case, when had he started? But he couldn’t rule it out.

He needed information. He knew somebody who might be able to help him get some.

He walked over to where Test Tube stood with… Whatever their name was. “Excuse me, Miss Test Tube, Miss or Mister or Other Season 3 Contestant. I am having a bit of an issue.”

“It’s Cabby. Nice to meet you, MePad. Feminine address is fine.” She offered a hand, smirking, and he balanced carefully on one leg to shake it.

“Glad to make your acquaintance.” MePad would have to visit the merch shop or something to figure out who all these new contestants were. MePhone had glossed over having somehow run off to make a third season, during his none of you are real, I made you, sorry explanation. It was something he looked forward to processing at some point. “I am afraid I will be cutting your conversation short, if you do not mind.”

“Oh, will you?” Cabby challenged, she looked amused.

“I will.” He turned to Test Tube, “I am currently experiencing some kind of temporal anomaly, or incredibly vivid hallucinations of the demise of myself and everyone else I know. Would you please join me in your secret lab to figure out which explanation is closer to the truth?”

“Uhhhhhh…” Test Tube blanched, and looked to Cabby. She was hiding laughter behind a hand. “You know what, weirder stuff happens all the time, let’s go.”

Test Tube knocked back the rest of her drink, and they started walking towards the exit.

Fan, who was standing next to the door, looked away from his own conversation with someone MePad had never met. They were small and blue, limbless. They appeared to be a ball of slime. “Test Tube! Where’re you headed?”

“Alleged temporal anomaly!” She flashed Fan a thumbs up.

“Oh, have fun!” 

They stepped outside with no further interruptions. He then transported them to her lab. He supposed he didn’t need to be outside for that. 

Test Tube gestured to a chair near her computer, which luckily didn’t have arms, and he sat down. “Thank you for believing me, by the way.”

She shrugged, “Eh, it’s more fun to take your word for it until we get some data under our belts.”

“Still, appreciated.” 

She opened up a word document and titled it Temporal Anomaly and/or Hallucinations. “So, what have you noticed?”

“I have died twice.”

She winced, “Eh, yeah, that’s… Anything else?”

“I know what is going to happen today before it happens. Miss Taco is crying over Mister Pickle’s body-”

“W- Huh?”

“She did not kill him, to be clear.” He thought he should probably clarify, Taco had such a bad reputation. “Everyone is currently being killed off one by one, it has only just started. Miss Suitcase and Mister Knife have been sent to Meeple HQ to try and stop Steve Cobs. Whoever defeats him wins the show.”

Test Tube looked, understandably, nervous. “Ah, well. Uh.”

“Yes, I understand. It’s fairly dire. The first time, everything generated by MeLife, that is everything on this island MePhone 4 has ever made-” Wait, that reveal hadn't happened yet. “You were created by MePhone 4, and so was everyone else. It was subconscious, he didn’t mean to, and he didn’t realize he’d done it until very recently. I yelled at him for not coming clean as soon as he realized.”

She hadn't typed anything in her document since he'd started talking. For a moment, they stared at each other. She gestured for him to continue.

“So, everyone was gone, except for Bow and Dough since they were already out of MePhone’s system. Steve was trying to stab MePhone, and since that would spell everyone’s doom, I stood in front of him to protect him.”

She gestured again for him to continue, mouth in a long, thin line. 

“Instead of being dead, I woke up in Hotel OJ, presuming this to be the afterlife. I spent the afternoon with Miss Taco and Toilet, by the lake. Unfortunately, Steve- He’d hired Toilet under false pretenses- noticed he was no longer doing what he was supposed to be doing, and he took over. That happened the first time as well, but then I was quicker on my feet and managed to save a couple people.”

She waited for a few moments before saying, “Uh. Any more groundbreaking exposition you’d like to drop on me?”

“I think that’s the gist of it. I apologize, I usually would be more careful with my phrasing, but I believe I’m a bit… Stressed.” Most likely. He was fairly experienced with stress, he thought. He'd observed a lot of it, after all. “I just woke up from drowning. It was less painful than being stabbed, but I still wouldn’t recommend it.”

“Great!” She clapped, once. “You didn’t touch anything weird before this started happening, or get cursed, or-”

“No, this has been a normal day in that regard.”

Test Tube took in a long, deep breath. And let it all out in one long, angry groan. “I should probably find something in that story I can get a second opinion on.”

“Sorry about the identity crisis, again, I do not have the capacity to be delicate.”

“It’s fine, it’s- Actually it explains a few things. I’ll, uh.” She paused, and looked down at her hands. “What, uh. What happened to Bot?”

“I don’t know who that is.”

“Cool. God. I mean- I sort of feel like screaming, or curling into the fetal position.”

He nodded, sympathetically. “I understand. Now would also be a good time for a tearful last minute love confession.”

“Noted.” She finally turned back to her computer and started rapidly typing in the document, creating a bulleted list with a font just a little too small to see from where he was sitting. “Okay, so we’re looking for a part of your story we can confirm, to prove to me, an outside observer, that you’ve already lived through today. You, uh. I guess this would be a time loop. You looped back after dying both times. This time, try to stay alive as long as possible and see if there’s a deadline element to it.” 

“Usually, staying alive is fairly simple for me, but-”

“We’re all about to be under attack, yeah. Goodness fucking gracious.” She stopped to rub at her temple with one hand. “If this is ongoing, I’d focus on finding the parameters. You can’t die, but what else. Ugh, I don’t know, I’ve only ever time travelled once, and we messed up the-” She paused for a moment, and thought. “Hm, yeah, us being fake is making more sense.”

He frowned, or, at least, tried to. “I do not necessarily think you’re fake, you’re very much real people with your own memories, hopes, and dreams. You simply have an unusual origin. And are in danger.”

“Yup. Okay. We keep coming back to that. And I keep thinking about how to proof check you.” She turned to face him. “If you already saw Pickle die, anyone else dead could be a lucky guess. But, no one else knows about where we came from, right?”

“Currently, yes, though MePhone will tell everyone in a few hours.”

“Great, let’s go talk to him. I feel like yelling at somebody anyway.” 

“Very well.” And so, he teleported them to the closet MePhone was still huddling in.

“GUH!” MePhone yelped.

Test Tube smiled. MePhone nervously smiled back, but it was really more of a grimace. He started vibrating but quickly dismissed the call, fast enough that MePad barely got a flash of the name Steve Cobs.

“Uh. Do you, uh. Need something?”

“Yes, actually. I’m doing a study around the collective memory loss of the contestants, and I was just wondering, do you have any idea why it is that I can’t remember where I went to school?” Somehow, she managed to file away most of the accusatory edge. Perhaps he was wrong about the quality of acting around here.

“No that’s, uh. Weird.” MePhone rubbed the back of his head, “Can you come back later? I’m kind of in the middle of something.”

He looked so small like this. Well, everyone looked small to MePad. But, huddled in a closet, terrified? It wasn’t a good look. “Sir, please just tell her the truth.” 

Their eyes met. MePhone was so expressive. His brow was tight, his foot was tapping with anxiety. He was betrayed, now, by the way he set his mouth, the quirk of his eyebrows. He was sure MePhone didn’t appreciate these things, as someone who loved to pretend he felt nothing but smug confidence, but MePad thought it was very useful the way he couldn’t help but be himself.

MePhone broke eye contact to look at Test Tube. “Maybe it’s something in the water.”

MePad quickly pulled up his incidental sound library to play an incorrect buzzer. 

He winced, and sighed. “Fine.”

MePhone spent a few moments in silence, seemingly gathering himself. “I can generate objects, you know that. Boats and trees and whatever else I need. And, turns out, it’s not always even-” He shook his head, “I mean, you gotta remember I’d repressed things pretty hard, I physically removed my memories, so I honestly forgot until recently! But, I remember now and uh…”

Test Tube managed to keep a straight face. Personally, he was tempted to play crickets.

“Ialsomadeeveryoneonthisisland. So, uh, surprise!” He threw his arms up and widened his grin, still betrayed by the panic in his eyes. “There’s your answer!”

She turned to MePad, now. Her smile was more convincing. “Well, I guess that solves it! It’s option one.” He smiled back, as best he could.

“Hey, why aren’t you surprised?” He looked… Offended. “Either of you, I’ve done a really great job keeping this secret!” 

She put a hand on her hip. “MePad already told me. I just wanted to confirm. You should never rely on only one source, heh.”

“But how did you know?” He pointed to MePad.

It wouldn’t hurt to be honest. 

Test Tube said, “Time loop.” at just the exact same time as he said, “We think I am experiencing a time loop.” 

“Uhhhhh-”

“Unless this is the final loop, which I heavily doubt, you will not need to worry about it. Perhaps you should instead stop sulking, and spend time with the others.”

“Hey, wait, we’re not glossing over that.” MePhone got to his feet. “You think you’re in a time loop? When was the last time you ran a diagnostic?!”

“At least two deaths ago.” Everyone kept telling him to run diagnostics! Perhaps he should, but so far he had been fairly busy.

“You’ve DIED?!”

“Yeah, I’ve been trying to discourage him from doing that.” Test Tube said, gently patting MePad’s casing. 

He didn’t really understand what the big deal was. It was for a purpose. Or, well, he supposed the second time was a waste. But he didn’t have control of that. Instead of admitting he’d just died for nothing, he said, “The first time was to save your life.” 

See, it was obviously the right thing to do!

MePhone clearly didn't agree. “I DON’T WANT YOU TO DIE FOR ME?” He exclaimed. At this volume, he was liable to attract attention.

“You said that at the time, but it is not your decision to make.” 

MePhone threw his hands in the air. “Yes, it is! As your boss, I say that you are not allowed to die on the job!”

“I’m… Just going to leave you to this.” Test Tube said and slipped out of the room, a sliver of light following the movement of the door. He heard someone sneeze, but nothing else happened, so he refocused on MePhone’s point. 

Right. He was being childish. “I resigned.” 

“Then why would you die for me?!” He noticed that, under the wild gesturing, MePhone’s hands were trembling.

“It is… Complicated.”

“Clear it up!”

But, he didn’t know how to put it into words. He displayed a loading circle in the hopes that would buy him time. It would be easy to backpedal and say he did it for the contestants, and it would be true. But it wouldn’t be fully true. He cared about Marshmallow, Taco was his friend, he wanted Suitcase to survive to see a situation where she wouldn’t have to be so distressed. He would’ve stood in front of any of them. 

He’d been standing in front of MePhone, too, though. He’d seen him there, his wrist broken, trembling with fear. He didn’t want to watch him die like that. 

“I know that’s just a gif, you know.”

He was out of time. “I wanted all of you to live.”

MePhone looked at him. His face was… Tight. Steely. “Promise me you won’t do it again.”

“I am likely going to do it several more times-”

His shoulders hunched. “I said, promise me you’re not going to die again.”

“Unlike you, I don’t revel in lies. If this time anomaly persists, it’s an opportunity to ensure everyone gets a happy ending. If I must die-”

“How could it be a happy ending if you’re not there?”

“I’m already outliving my usefulness-”

“What are you TALKING ABOUT?” MePhone started ringing again, and immediately dismissed it. 

“While I cannot stand by while you hurt the people I care about, I will not be complicit in this anymore. But, that leaves me obsolete, as assisting you is my purpose-”

MePhone shoved him. “Were you here out of some obligation? MePad, I thought we were a team!”

He wouldn’t stoop to that. Also, standing on one leg would make it harder for him to balance if MePhone shoved him again. “We were a team, sir. But as I am soon to be rendered pointl-”

Yeah, MePhone shoved him again. “Stop saying stuff like that! What is wrong with you? I didn’t take you with me to help me display numbers. I brought you with me so that you wouldn’t die. So that you could live! Away from Cobs, no expectations! Us against the world.”

MePad wasn’t sure what he was feeling. He realized that this time, MePhone hadn’t stopped touching him. He realized that they didn’t touch very often.

He shouldn’t tell him how he died. Not any further, it was very clearly upsetting him, and everything he tried to say to defend his decision was being interrupted and misunderstood.

But, it was really ironic. And, MePhone wouldn’t remember tomorrow, would he? He’d been honest so far.

He sighed, and glanced away just for a moment, to whisper, “I didn’t want you to die by his hand, either.”

His expression crumpled, as though devastated. As though this was, somehow, the worst outcome he could think of. He still didn’t get it. Why did he care so much?

MePhone grabbed both of his sides and pulled him into… A hug. His arms didn’t go all the way around, and there wasn’t really a way to reciprocate while standing up. And, yet, in this dark closet MePad felt… Sunwarmed. 

They stood there in silence for a long, long moment. He didn’t dare move, he was enjoying this. It was better than being yelled at.

The closet door slammed open, illuminating everything suddenly with colors other than purple and blue. Instinctively, both of them jumped apart and turned to face the threat. Nothing-?

Oh. Just a moment after he realized, MePhoneX showed itself, and drew near to MePhone4. Dread rose to meet where the warmth had been a moment ago. Who was in control of it? Was he about to make MePhone mad, again?

“MISTAH PHONE!”

He fell backwards against one of the shelving units in relief. Oh, thank goodness. Dying hurts.

“Toilet? Wh-”

Toilet picked MePhone up and spun him around. “I was wonderin’ when I’d find yew! I’ve been makin ya proud, sir. Very ominous-like, just like Master ADAM said to!”

“Put me down!”

He could hear the smile in Toilet’s voice. “Righto! Sorry, I’ve never been able to lift ya before!”

“Sure, sure, but- What’s going on?”

Here was an opportunity to put the time loop to good use. “We’re currently operating under a misunderstanding. Toilet does not know ADAM is controlled by Steve Cobs.”

“He’s what?!” MePhoneX turned to him, pose expressing everything its face couldn’t.

“The same man that sends robots periodically to kill MePhone made the one you’re piloting.”

“Ah.” He shrunk in on himself. “Oh, what’s wrong with me! Golly-bull again?!”

He looked to Toilet sympathetically, “Personally, I do not blame you. You had no way of knowing.”

“I s’ppose that’s true, but I feel rather silly. I’m definitely not getting my job back now, huh?” 

“Well, the position’s kind of closed for the foreseeable future.” Said MePhone. “But, uh, that’s just because we’re all in danger. It’s really not personal.”

“YAAAAAY!” Toilet ran over and hugged him, though he clearly thought better of swooshing him around this time. “I’m glad we’re makin’ up, I ordered matching hats right before this all went down, and I’d hate to return ‘em.”

“That was, uh. Thoughtful?” Unlike their embrace just a minute ago, MePhone broke this one off quick. “Let me, uh, get you into the loop?”

Oh, well, “I can catch you up, actually. Toilet, this day has happened a couple times before. I am currently working on finding a way out of it, ideally with a happy ending for everyone.”

MePhone’s expression fell. “Toilet, do me a favor.”

He nodded dizzyingly quickly. 

“Tell MePad how important he is.”

“Oh! That I can do!” He turned to MePad, hands clasped together. “You’re the smartest, most thoughtfullest, most wonderful person I’ve met in all my life!”

The warmth was back. “And you are exceptionally kind, and hard working, and personable. I am glad to have met you.” 

MePhone crossed his arms. “Now how would you feel if he sacrificed his life because he thought it didn’t matter.”

He watched as Toilet wilted in real time. And then, suddenly, he had a lapful of MePhoneX. “That’s not a hype-e-thetical, is it?! You died before? How? Why?!”

MePhone didn’t give him a moment to answer, “Because he was outliving his usefulness.”

Toilet squeezed him, arms extending to meet in the middle of his back. “That’s bollocks!”

Around the large, rectangular obstruction in his vision, he could see MePhone’s annoying told-you-so look.

“You’re sweet, Toilet. But, if it’s between my life and the life of someone that matters-”

“YOU MATTER!”

It was MePad’s turn to wilt. They both said it with such conviction. He was a machine, with a role, and when that role was over he was to be disposed of. He knew this, intrinsically. MePhone was different, he had hopes and dreams. He rejected his destiny. MePad had never done that.

He didn’t want to die. But, he was already over a decade old. He knew how badly Meeple products were constructed. He was living on borrowed time at this point. It was just what was always going to happen. 

Why didn’t they seem to think so?

They had dared to spend a couple more minutes together. Toilet, by proxy, in his lap and MePhone, very physically, leaning against his side. MePad had explained the situation as best he could, though he really didn’t know much about what was going on wherever Toilet was. Just that he was liable to be interrupted. 

He agreed vigorously to help Knife and Suitcase, and said that he’d miss him, and that MePad wasn’t allowed to die because they were going to see each other soon. He really hoped he was right.

MePhone had suggested flying X out as far into the ocean as possible, and then dropping it. He… Knew it was probably just a hollow shell, but something about that felt wrong. Maybe because he’d just drowned, himself. But, he didn’t have a better suggestion.

MePhone and MePad were to gather anyone who’d survived (MePhone had been pretty miffed when he learned Toilet had been killing his contestants, but somehow it hadn’t come to blows. MePhone had started to yell, but then he rang again, dismissed the call, and deflated) and just do their best. 

Test Tube thought he should gather information, this loop. He’d squandered a lot of it with the two of them, but he didn’t really… Mind. He was glad, at least, that this second (third?) chance came with time to spend with those he cared about.

The contestant situation was… Very bleak. They were down to the Purgatory Mansion crew, without Marshmallow. Paintbrush, Box, Taco, and Pepper were all that was left otherwise. No one was very happy. Understandably. 

This was his fault. But, he supposed he knew who to bet on in a foot race. 

It ended the same way. Not to the smallest detail, but everyone ended up gone. It was just an empty field. Toilet, hiding. A final confrontation. Bow, Dough, MePhone, MePad, Steve Fucking Cobs.

One major thing was different. MePad wasn’t fast enough. 

It hurt almost as much, to see him skewered. To watch him tremble, and collapse.

He teleported them both away, a moment too late. 

“Maybe this is better.” MePhone had muttered, even with a sword sticking out of his face. MePad had just looked at him. He didn’t know what he could possibly say.

He watched MePhone’s screen go dark. For the first time he was alone and it was horrible.

And then he woke up.

Chapter Text

Tears did not come easily for MePad. Most of the time, when others around him cried, he stared blankly and… Thought. Examined the details and poked them each to see which part was the most bothersome.

He was crying, now. Taco’s death had been horrible, but it had been so quick. She was alive, and then she was a body.

Toilet’s death had been terrible, though luckily it hadn’t actually happened. But that had been in abstract, the concept that he must’ve died had unbalanced MePad.

MePhone drew his last breath, cradled by grass. He’d lost his sense of time, then, but it was much slower than what happened to Taco. It was not abstract. It was something real that he had witnessed.

He wondered if he was ever going to loop back without immediately feeling the need to sit down. 

He needed to understand what was going on. Variables were different, but it lead to a similar conclusion. Bow would always be available to bring a message to Suitcase and Knife, if someone thought of it. Would others have better ideas?

Was there a way he could keep everyone safe?

… He supposed there was. He got himself up. When he arrived at his first stop, where Taco sat upon Pickle's bed, he called out to her, “Be on alert, we’re in danger.” She startled, but he didn’t give her enough time to respond.

This time when he arrived at the party, he had a better idea. He hadn’t even gotten the chance, last time, to hear what Test Tube had thought up while he was gone. Foolish, but this was new, and he’d figure it out. 

No one was down, yet. Except Pickle, but that was beyond his control. Lightbulb and Baseball were gossiping in a corner. 

… Who died next? Did Toilet have a specific list of targets? Was it random?

He needed to figure out where he started. 

“Excuse me!” He shouted, and it got a good amount of attention. “If anyone sees a MePhone with a red X for a wallpaper, that is Toilet. Tell him he’s being tricked.”

He didn’t stop to see if anyone reacted to that, either. He teleported away and when he reappeared, he stood in the shadow of the hot air balloons.

“Ah!” Suitcase startled and bumped into Knife, whose book of matches went flying everywhere. “MePad! Did you, uh, need something?”

“Yes. I need to come with you.” He opened the door of the balloon and stepped inside.

“What, do you think we can’t handle this on our own?” Knife grumbled, though he lost some of his intimidation factor to the fact he was crouching and picking up matches individually. 

Suitcase frowned up at him. “Did MePhone send you?”

“No, in fact I am avoiding thinking about him right now.” He knew he could’ve found him in his closet. He didn’t want to look at him (and imagine what he’d just seen layered on top.) 

“Ooookay, well. I guess we can’t stop you?” Suitcase sat down in the basket. 

Knife had regathered the matches, and struck one now. “Just as long as you don’t get in our way.” He ignited the… MePad didn’t know enough balloon terminology, but a fire was created and soon the balloon was filled with hot air. Suitcase detached the tether rope, and they were off.

They stood there in silence for a long time. Were they this… dreary the first time? Suitcase and Knife deliberately didn't look at each other. But, they shouldn't know how disastrous today would end up. 

He supposed he was a new variable. “Just pretend I'm not here.” 

Knife rolled his eyes. “Well, you are here. Just, try to make yourself useful.”

“That, I can do.” 

When they arrived at Meeple HQ, it was just the same as the last time MePad saw it. Technically, he wasn’t sure if seeing it through MePhone’s eyes was more recent, or his journey here to acquire a battery. 

Either way, he’d never stepped foot on this walkway while conscious. Last time, he’d lurked with the balloon. If someone had asked, it was to keep an eye on them. Truly, it was because (even without memories to inform him) he’d known somehow that this beautiful place was dangerous.

Knife and Suitcase stepped off the balloon confidently. They had both been fighting for the opportunity their whole lives. To prove themselves. To win.

He would be a spectator.

Once he stepped on the tile.

The door was open. There wasn’t a large ledge, only someone with terrible balance would fall stepping down from here. And yet. And yet. 

“Hey, are you coming?” Knife asked, judgemental look plastered on his face. 

Breathe in. Breathe out. Put on a confident expression. “Yes, apologies.” He teleported to directly behind them. “I’ll be following your lead, if you need anything just ask.”

“Sure.” Suitcase said, and started walking. “It won’t, uh, invalidate the result if we ask for help, right?”

“No worries, I am just acting as your backup.” Hopefully, they’d do exactly what they did every other time. He needed to understand what kept going wrong.

They walked in the door together, and were greeted by an electronic voice welcoming them, and introducing a few words by-

This was going to be a very difficult mission. 

MePad wasn’t prone to violent tendencies, usually. He also did not usually have Steve Cobs singing the same (relatively short) loop at him for half an hour.

Knife and Suitcase split up fairly early, and luckily there were less screens outside the Menius Bar, which meant he no longer had to look at that smug face, but the audio played at just the perfect volume to be perceitible from everywhere.

The design of this place was somewhat labyrinthine. There were a frankly ridiculous amount of floors, for one. Most, but not all, of them looped back around on themselves. Every time the contestants crossed paths, MePad switched which one of them he was following. It wouldn’t do to play favorites. That said, he was surprised neither of them talked to him as they went. It was probably most accurate, so it was for the best. 

Let them focus on their task. Unobtrusively. 

They found Suitcase standing nervously outside a door. Knife started echoing his thoughts pretty closely, aside from his assertion that the propaganda song had been catchy at all. Matter of taste.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about MePhone’s bad memories, being here. This is one of them.”

Then he actually looked at the door, and shivered. 

“If there’s anyone who can tell us what Cobs is up to…” Suitcase trailed off, eyes sliding to MePad. “You saw them too, right?”

He nodded, solemnly. He didn’t look to Knife’s reaction.

They stepped together inside of the closet. It was exclusively lit by the doorway, and mirrored the standard corporate excess storage in some ways. The Christmas decorations, the bin of “bad pens,” the outdated computers no one had gotten rid of.

But, there was also… 

He turned himself invisible. He should’ve thought of it earlier, it was obvious in retrospect. If he just wanted to observe, he should interact as little as possible.

Suddenly, Knife was already close enough to touch the broken MePhone, and-

He needed to also pay attention to observe. 

“We’re researchers!” Knife lied. MePad came in closer.

It was so difficult to pay attention. Why was that? He found his eyes drawn to the phone. His eyes and mouth gave him away as being old. You could make out the pixels, even from a distance. But, something about it was charming. It was still enough to be expressive with. 

His voice cut out, and MePad remembered being frozen. 

He glitched into static, and MePad remembered water seeping in through every crack. 

He smiled, and MePad remembered sitting together with MePhone4 and Toilet, before the inevitable had come for them.

He freaked out at Cobs’ name, and MePad understood.

He watched Suitcase try and comfort him. He watched Knife try to play at confidence. 

He learned his name. MePad committed it to memory, slowly trailing behind the contestants. 3GS. MePhone3GS. One generation before 4. Right after 3G. Two after The Original. 3GS. 

If you held a gun to his head, he wouldn’t have been able to recount the journey from the junk closet to Cobs’ office. He was vaguely aware of friendly banter between the contestants. He knew the glare from all the glass windows was irritating.

Suitcase kicked open the door, and there he was. 

The next thing he was aware of was being tackled to the ground. 

“MePad!” Suitcase yelled, but he was face-down. He couldn’t see.

“I knew you were here, by the way. It’s really not very sportsmanlike to bring backup.” Cobs said. “I want the both of you to stand on your own. This isn’t some namby-pamby show where everyone’s a winner because they really tried. Turn him off.”

Something started holding down his power button. He tried to teleport away, but whatever it was held fast. He was upright, but it didn’t help. All it gave him was a flash of the scene he was about to leave.

Large, blinding windows. Half a dozen screens, all playing clips of their journey. His own, troubled face. Suitcase and Knife, visibly not needing him.

And of course, their faces now. Even Knife looked worried.

He needed to say something reassuring. “I believe you ca-”

And then he woke up.

Chapter Text

He was in the hallway. No Suitcase, no Knife, no him.  

MePad settled down into his spot, next to the wet floor sign. He smelled the chemicals. He felt the carpet. Familiarity wasn’t making it more comfortable like he’d guessed just a few hours ago. (Was he up to a day now?)

He’d failed. He hadn’t even managed to follow Suitcase and Knife through their whole journey. He hadn’t been able to do anything!

He sort of wanted to scream, but that would attract attention. Instead he curled in on himself, and thought. Why had he been so useless? His head had been filled with static as they traversed MeCloud, 3GS just made it worse.

Much, much worse. His screen was cracked, and his face was expressive, and he had such a terrible fate. He was like MePhone4, he clearly deserved something better. But instead of doing anything, saying anything to help, MePad had just stared. 

… He knew one new thing. 3GS was alive. If he wanted to get everyone a happy ending, 3GS was now part of that everyone.

It was also possible that being turned off reset him to the hallway. That was useful. It was significantly less distressing than dying.

He knew he needed to stand up and find another course of action. He could spend this loop finding out where Toilet’s starting point was. He could figure out the names of the other contestants. He could enlist Test Tube’s help. He could try again at MeCloud.

Instead, he sat very, very still and looked at nothing.

The next thing he was aware of was gray. “Oh, uh. Hi, MePad.”

Mic. She must be here for Taco. “She is still in Pickle’s room.”

“Thanks?” Microphone, however, did not walk past him. “Are you doing okay?”

“No.”

“Cool, cool. Uh. See you later?” That didn’t necessitate a response, so he didn’t give one. Now she walked past.

He resumed examining the wallpaper. 

It wasn’t that long until Mic came back, this time with Taco in tow.

They whispered something to each other. 

“MePad.” Taco stepped in his line of sight, but he didn’t refocus on her face. “It has been a hard day for us all, I’m sure. Come along.”

And so, once again, he did.

He walked behind them, functioning as their shadow. They said things, sometimes, but always either too quiet for him to hear or that which didn’t require his input. 

They walked through the building. Down the elevator, out the back entrance. Through the forest, past the lake. Back into the forest, and to where the rocky cliffside met the water of the ocean’s edge. 

The sand was scant, but it was there. They walked down towards it. Finally, Taco turned to them both. “Here we are. Now, stop being so glum. Many would pay good money to have exclusive access to an island getaway like this.”

He supposed that was true.

He finally noticed, as Mic sat down across from him, that she wasn’t looking very well either. “Yeah, I guess.” He mirrored her, so that he wasn’t looming.

For the first time since they’d come to him, there was something to say. “Miss Microphone, what might be bothering you?”

She turned slightly, and started tracing through the sand with her finger. “Isn’t it pretty obvious? We’re all- We’re all just jokes.”

Ah. MePhone had told them. So he wasn’t necessary for the truth to come out, either.

He understood how it felt, but… “You may have started that way, but in the end, I believe you have grown quite a lot.”

He realized, suddenly, that Taco wasn’t with them. He quickly scanned their soundings, and found that she was standing in the ocean.

Mic said something, but he couldn’t hear it. He couldn’t look away. He knew she was alive. He knew she was standing there, on her own legs. 

He teleported over, as far into the water as he dared stand, and teleported them both back.

She was glaring at him. She had a face with which to glare at him. “What was that for?”

“I was…” Unable to stop himself? Acting impulsively? “Afraid for your life.”

She broke eye contact. “Sure. Well, I was just getting water. We’re building sand castles.” She held aloft a red solo cup.

“We are?” Mic asked, as Taco settled down in front of her. “Now?”

“Of course!” Taco smiled, “We have no responsibilities, and our time is limited. We might as well enjoy it, yes?”

He sat back down. “Are you trying to ignore your grief?”

Her smile slipped off just as quickly. “You, shut up.”

“That I can do.” And, so he watched as, in silence, Mic and Taco tried to figure out how to make a sand castle. Taco was pouring little bits of water on the sand, and then attempting to make a pile with it. Mic had resumed scratching at the sand listlessly, but whenever Taco glanced up at her, she switched to pushing sand towards Taco.

This didn’t seem right, but he didn’t have any experience in this area.

Taco went for water again. He managed to keep himself still, this time.

“You know.” Mic said, as Taco returned with another cupful and settled back down. “I think Soap would’ve liked this.”

“You are probably right. This is not a white sand beach.”

Taco raised an eyebrow, “And what’s wrong with white sand?”

“They often exist near coral reefs, and the sand is created by parrotfish eating it. It is as clean as any sand, of course, but many find it nasty once they know.”

They looked at him, for a moment. Mic started laughing. Taco wiped her, very sandy, hand on her knee with a look of disgust. “That isn’t how all sand is created, yes?”

“I believe most sand is part eroded rock, part microscopic dead sea life? Please, do not quote me on that, however.” He looked down at the very sand they were all sitting on. Having an appreciation for what a long time it took sand to accumulate in the world made him like it somewhat better. But only somewhat. It wasn’t too hot right now, but it was still annoying in that it snuck into his nooks and crannies and never seemed to want to come back out. 

“If- Next time you see Soap, don’t tell her that.” Mic giggled a little more.

“I will not.” But, she had referred to Soap in the past tense. “Am I to assume that her loss is part of why you, Miss Mic, are sad?”

“Yeesh.” Taco mumbled, just loud enough to be heard now that he’d effectively made Mic clam back up.

He shouldn’t keep saying things like that. “Apologies. I have been struggling myself, and I keep saying tactless things.”

Mic sighed, again. “No, I mean, you’re right. I just wish you weren’t.” She turned away from the two of them, somewhat, and returned to poking at the sand. “We’ve only been together again for a couple days and- And then I just lose her?”

For some reason, the picture of MePhone4 lying in the grass, sword in his face-

MePad flinched. 

Mic said something else. He shook himself. “My apologies, again, I missed what you just said.”

“You’re sad too, aren’t you?”

… “Would you like the truth, or would you prefer I keep it to myself, this time?”

Taco puffed herself up. “Does nobody know how to live a lie, these days? Personally, I think we’re happier when we stretch the truth to suit ourselves.”

“Taco.”  

She deflated just as quickly, eyes locked on to her cup of seawater. 

“Yes, MePad, we want to hear why you’re sad.” Mic said. 

Very well. “I seem to be in a time loop. It ends when I die, or turn myself off, or- Or when MePhone4 dies.”

Microphone put a hand on his knee. “That must be really hard.”

“It is. Last time was fine, in that I did not die, but I was useless. And, the time before that- I opened up to MePhone and he took a knife for me.”

She patted it. Taco was now glaring at her water. 

“I keep seeing things, and being reminded of- It was very gruesome.” Even now, his mind was trying to go blank to avoid it.

Oh, he was avoiding it.

And then he’d gone somewhere that he couldn’t ignore MePhone at all, the place he’d seen through the man’s very own eyes. It seemed foolish, in retrospect.

“Well, if you’re-” Mic squeezed her eyes shut, “I’ll get to see her again, right?”

“You will, the moment I return to is before her death, I think.”

Taco spoke up. “And, if this is true… Pickle. Have I ever managed to apologize correctly? Has he ever forgiven me?”

Oh, Taco. “I am afraid… I always return to just after his death.”

Her face went completely blank. After a moment, she stood up, and threw the cup as far as it would go. It landed somewhere in the ocean, and he followed it with his eyes for a moment before the bright red dipped under the waves. 

She sat back down, and composed her expression. “Good to know.”

“I will find a way to get you all a happy ending.” He wouldn’t give up, until he did. As long as he had the power to, he would try. “But I am becoming… Ineffective. I keep freezing up.”

“... So, be ineffective.” Said Mic, “I don’t know, like, your whole situation but if I was stuck in some kind of time knot I’d, I don’t know, spend some time just wrecking things.”

Taco raised an eyebrow.

“Violence is wrong, and I’ve put most of that stuff behind me!” Mic held up her hands, as though to surrender. He missed the warmth on his leg. “But, like, sometimes I need to take a bit to just… Yell! Kick things! Until I feel better.”

“Personally, I like to bite.” Taco said. They both looked at her, “Oh, what, is that too much?”

“No, no, as long as you're not biting, like, people it's fine.” She patted Taco’s hand.

“I suppose I haven’t ever made it a priority to vent my frustrations.” Not that he usually had many. Other people were so much better at feeling things than him. “I cannot bite, so-”

Mic stood up, and offered him a hand. He couldn’t take it but he appreciated the gesture. 

Taco sighed, and got up too. “Sure, I guess we’re all expressing our emotions. Sounds like fun.” 

“I’ll start!” Mic said with a cheery smile. She took a couple steps back, and the other two realized what she was about to do and backed even further away. Microphone ran forward and kicked the wet sand pile down, yelling, “BRING BACK MY FRIEND, JACKASS!”

It wasn’t as loud as it could’ve been! He was proud that she remembered to hold it a little back, for the two of them.

She turned to Taco, again smiling. “Your turn!”

“Very well. Though I don’t approve of what you did to my sandcastle, what’s done is done.” Taco picked up a handful of wet sand and compacted it into a ball. She wound up, and threw it into the ocean, yelling, “I’M TRYING!” 

She straightened back up, wiping the sand from her hands. “MePad’s turn.”

“I cannot throw.”

Microphone held up a finger. She stooped down and made a Pile of Sand in front of him, stood back up, and gave him a thumbs up.

Taco was watching all of this with her arms crossed.

Well, he didn’t have an objection, now. He inhaled, and exhaled. They backed away, and he mirrored Mic’s runup. 

The sand pile scattered under his foot, exploding everywhere, scattered by the wind. It was satisfying.

“You forgot to yell.”

Oh. So he did. “Perhaps I did not want to yell.”

Mic put a hand on her hip. Taco rolled her eyes. 

Fine.

He closed his eyes, so he couldn’t see either of them. Clicked the volume up a couple notches. 

He needed to find something that sounded like he was taking this seriously, but ideally not give too much away. They wouldn't remember, but-

Taco started heckling him. He was out of time. 

“WHAT MAKES ME IMPORTANT?” 

When he opened his eyes, he was sure he'd succeeded, Microphone wasn't looking at him strangely. 

Then something hit his back, and he turned to see Taco holding another handful of wet sand. 

There was a lot more kicking and throwing after that.

By the time they tired again, he was convinced there would be sand wedged in his cracks for months. 

Except, of course, that there couldn't be. 

“You know, MePad? You're not so bad.” Said Mic, who was currently lounging as best she could on a sand lump she'd made. Taco was settled near her, close enough to touch. 

He was laying on his side. He didn't do it very often, but it made him look casual. Probably. It could've also made him look awkward. 

“Thank you.” He was pretty sure that was a compliment. “Personally, I am glad you seem to be doing better.”

“Huh? Oh, right. Soap.” She started tracing through the sand again, and finally he was at the right angle to see she was making a domed cylinder. 

“I meant in general, but yes, it is good sometimes to let yourself have a moment away from your worries.”

Taco huffed, “You don't say? When we found you earlier, you couldn't pay attention to two word sentences.”

“It is probably different.” He didn't know why it was, but he knew he wasn't built to feel as much as others. Surely, their emotions must be overwhelming compared to his own.

“... Do you really believe that stuff?” Mic asked, drawing a smiley face on the basic shape of Soap. “That you're going to wake up and it'll be today again?”

“Yes. I may not understand why, but I believe my senses.”

“Cool.” She had the ghost of a smile, now. “I hope…”

“The fact I'm allegedly cursed to my sorrow seems cruel.” Said Taco. “You say you restart after Pickle is gone. How can this, if it is real, be any kind of good thing?” 

It was a valid question. He didn't have an answer. 

The ocean met the sand. The sea meet the sky. 

Why didn't this start in the morning? Why the middle of the day? In the hallway? It was a moment unimportant to the day, briefly leaving Taco’s side to… What had he even been doing, the first time? 

It was insignificant, not worth remembering, and now it was his reality. Taco had tried her best, and failed, and that was permanent. 

MePad tried his best, and failed. And got to try and fail again. And again. 

“... It is not the same, but, I saw MePhone die. We had spoken about my predicament. He decided that I shouldn't die.”

Taco scowled, “I suppose a broken clock is right twice a day.”

“Toilet agreed with this. Test Tube agrees with this. But, I don't-” He realized, now, that he was about to get into the same argument. “The point. I saw him die, for the purpose of keeping me alive, and it was horrible. And now I have to keep going. Which is to say… Thank you for bossing me around, Miss Taco. You are feeling that right now, and it is fresh in your mind, and still you found the energy to drag us out here.”

“What can I say?” She winked. “I'm fairly good at manipulation.” 

“Okay, okay, but-” Mic made a shooing motion. “Real quick. MePad, I don't think you should die, either.” 

“Ideally, yes, but if I must-”

“You're kind of stupid.” Said Taco.

He wasn't sure how to respond to that. And so, to not start an argument, he said, “Okay.”

“If- if it was me or Soap, I'd stand in front of her too. But I wouldn't expect her to be like… Okay with that.”

He tried to nod, but at this angle it wasn’t really working. “Of course not. Soap is your friend, and she cares about you. She would be sad if you were gone.”

Taco sighed, loudly. 

“I can see the point she’s making, Taco, it just doesn’t apply to me.” Soap and Mic were both people. “I understand that you are all used to my presence, but I am certain with some distance everyone will come to realize it was for the best.”

“Which is definitely how you feel about that time you allegedly saw MePhone die.”

“That is also different.”

“Wow, you’re like a brick wall!” Mic said, “And I thought we were stubborn!”

“Hey.” Taco lightly hit Mic, only hard enough to create a little cascade of sand.

“What? I’m right! We’re stubborn.” Mic hit her back, which caused the same thing. 

They kept shoving each other, which escalated into dropping sand on each others heads, which escalated further into standing back up and resuming their fight. 

Taco was better at creating a stockpile of ammo and throwing them steadily, while Mic only ever had two at once. They were laughing. 

This was nice. Despite how little he'd done this time around, they were having fun.

That was one of the things he respected about many of the contestants. They could get nihilistic, or despondent, or just plain tired. But, soon enough they would bounce back and find joy however they could. 

Suitcase was shy, but could stand up for Balloon, because she cared. Lightbulb was deeply unserious and, though that irritated her team at many points, their morale was always far superior to The Grand Slams. He was sure there were examples he was missing having been absent, somehow, for the third season. 

Even now. Taco may be having one of the worst days of her life, but she had seen that Microphone was similarly struggling. So, she bossed them both around until they lightened up. 

Truly, there was such capacity for kindness. 

… He remembered MePhone. His bravado. He tried to act as though he didn't care about anything. And, yet, he made people filled with so much love. You could argue that happened after they were made, that they developed independently into those that could love. He thought maybe it came at least partially from the source. MePhone cared about these people. Not in the right way, but he'd never learned the right way. 

And, for some reason, he cared about MePad, too. So did Test Tube, willing to drop a conversation to chase a theory with him. So did Taco, who could've kept him off and used him just for his abilities, but she had instead woken him up to talk to him. So did Knife and Suitcase, who gasped in fear when he was grabbed. So did Mic, who had just expressed that she didn't think he should die. So did Toilet, who despite it all was always thrilled to see him. 

He pictured the crack in MePhone's face. He sat there, and tensed up. He imagined the way it must have felt, so similar to his first death. 

He wanted to go back to staring at a wall instead. He wanted to kick the sand again. He focused on that moment, terrible and horrible, and tried not to flinch away. 

And then he thought about being hugged. And how, for some reason, he was loved. And that, until he figured this out, he'd be able to enjoy moments of peace like this. 

… He opened his eyes when he realized how quiet it was. The reason was soon obvious.

There was no one else.

They weren't even on the ground. They were gone.  

The sand was dimmer than it used to be. The sky was filled with a beautiful sunset. He was sure that if he turned around, he would find dull green grass at the top of the cliff. 

Test Tube had suggested he try and stay alive.

And so he did. MePad sat up properly. He started a stopwatch function. 

He watched the waves. He felt the sand in his crevices. He wondered how far away the nearest coral reef was. He thought about how nice it might feel, to have everything that was bothering you eaten off by a cleaner fish. That was something he was sure Soap would be alright learning about.

He never looked away from the waves. The time ticked higher. 

He thought about Mic, and Soap, and Taco.

Were they thinking about him?

He blinked.

And then he woke up.

Chapter Text

MePad, for the first time, did not sit down. He took a deep breath in, smelling the cleaner’s artificial sting and other, currently unnamed smells layered underneath. He held it, for a moment. Then, he exhaled.

It hadn't been much more than 30 minutes between MeLife's deactivation and him returning here. And, yet, the sun had not dipped under the horizon. 

… It had been nice, being at the beach with those two. 

He had important things to do, this time. Now that he was able to focus again. 

First of all, he turned to the wet floor sign and the puddle underneath it. He hadn't thought of it before, but the freshness might be an indication Soap was nearby. 

He started walking, neither leisurely or rushed. About every 30 seconds, he called out, “Miss Soap?” 

After only having explored half the floor, she called back, “In here!”

Another storage closet. He supposed that made sense. He opened the door to find Soap wiping down a shelf with a disinfectant wipe.

“Hello.” He said, “I have a bit of an odd request.”

She was now wiping down the container of disinfectant wipes. “If it's go to the party, I'm not doing that.”

Noted. “Why would I ask that of you?”

“We've met before.” Finally, she seemed satisfied that neither the shelf or the wipes were contaminated, and she placed the container down. Then Soap carefully folded up the wipe she had been using so only the parts she'd been touching were on the outside. “And, Paper wants me to socialize more. He sent you, right? But stupid Trophy is always spilling things on purpose!”

Ah. “I understand. He can be… abrasive.”

She scoffed, and placed the wipe gently in a small trashcan by the door. “I'll say.” 

He backed away to give her room to leave. 

“Luckily, that was not my request. Miss Taco is having a hard day, and-”

“We're not friends.” She closed the door behind her, and started following him as he walked.

“But, you and Miss Microphone are. I think it would be beneficial for all three of you to enjoy this beautiful day.”

She didn't look convinced. “What's the real reason?”

“...” Should he be honest? “I am experiencing a time loop, and last time Miss Taco, Miss Microphone, and I went to the beach. Your presence was missed.” 

She huffed a laugh, but quickly tried to cover it up. “Sorry, you, uh, sound like you believe that. Remind me to lend you this self-help book I've been reading, it's got a section for people like you.”

He wasn't sure what she meant by that. “I would like that. But, will you consider my request?”

“I guess I wouldn't mind spending time with Taco.” An odd expression flickered over her face. “I'm just not sure we'll, uh… have anything in common.” She rubbed her own shoulder. He still couldn't read her.

He took a shot in the dark. “Are you afraid of judgment?”

“H-!” She looked startled, “Uhh-?”

“Miss Taco, too, is afraid others will judge her. I think you may find each other to be kindred spirits.”

Only a moment later, they reached Pickle's room. Soap gasped, “WHAT DID YOU DO?!” 

Oh no. He had forgotten about that part.

He teleported away, reappeared at the party. He quickly spotted Mic and teleported in front of her. She jumped when he appeared.

He needed to be quick.

“Something has happened, not Taco’s fault. You three should go to the beach.”

Then he teleported both of them into the midst of the chaos. 

Soap was yelling, arms wildly gesturing. “-COURSE YOU DID IT! WHO ELSE-”

Taco looked close to tears.

Luckily, Mic was the perfect one to interrupt. “WHAT IS HAPPENING?” They both turned to look at her.

“Hello! I am so sorry, I did not fully think this through.” He said, trying to keep a cheery tone. “Mister Pickle has been killed by Steve Cobs, who Miss Suitcase and Mister Knife are going to confront. I think it would be for the best if you all went to the beach.”

They all started talking at once.

“But- Somebody is dead!”

“She just accused me of murder!”

“Is introducing friends always this hard?”

“Lesson learned! Next time I will bring all of you to a neutral space.” He had meant well, but this was going disastrously. “Now, if you will listen to me-”

Both Taco and Soap pointedly gestured at each other.

“I know. You will still be going to the beach. It is non-negotiable.” 

“We’ll be what?” Asked Taco, who he supposed he hadn’t said anything to about this yet. 

He sort of wanted to turn himself off and start over, but that would be a waste. So, instead, he said, “Come on. You, Taco, are sad. Soap is in mortal peril. Mic is about to be sad. We are going to the beach.” He didn’t even bother with honorifics, he just wanted this to be over with.

He teleported all of them, save Pickle’s body, directly to the shore.

“I’m what?” Asked Soap. Taco was glaring very seriously at him. Mic looked like she wanted to be anywhere else, though probably not because of their specific location but more about the fact he’d put them all in such an irritating situation.

“I am experiencing a time loop. Miss Soap, you are one of the first to die. By spending your day with these two, you will be safe. My apologies for making everything so awkward, I will do better next time.”

“MePad, you’ve lost it!” Declared Taco, “What could possibly-”

“Again, my apologies, but I have other things to do today. If you would like to come yell at me further, I will be in Miss Test Tube’s secret lab. Please consider having a good time instead, and if you see a MePhone with a red X for a face, that is Toilet. Talk to him and he won’t kill you.”

He teleported away just a moment later, not caring about his destination other than away from others.

What a disaster. 

On paper, it was simple. Taco needed others to distract herself from the Pickle situation. Soap was about to die, but MePhoneX hadn’t found them at the beach last time, so she’d likely be safe there. Mic wanted to spend more time with Soap, and with Taco.

In reality, he’d got them off on the wrong foot. He’d made them all upset with him and each other! Who was to say if they’d recover from that within the next 5-ish hours? 

Maybe they could agree on how bad a job he’d just done, find some common ground that way?

Luckily, his perpetually flat mouth was doing exactly what he wanted it to right now. If he had a person’s face, just this once, the facial expression would probably look very similar.

He wondered, for just a moment, if rubbing one’s temple would help with the tension in this situation. Others seemed very keen on it.

He teleported himself outside the entrance of the hotel, where the party was being held. Originally, he was thinking of talking to Test Tube. However, he’d just pretty majorly messed up what he’d been attempting to do with those three. 

He supposed, technically, it couldn’t get much worse. 

MePad stepped through the front door and observed the party scene. 

It was basically the same as last he saw it. That to mean, panic hadn't broken out. Some of the contestants were doing different things, though. They were in slightly different groups. Trophy was getting himself another drink. He spotted the Cherries with a bottle of hot sauce. Cabby was now talking to the blue sludge person and some sort of purple candle. (Was it safe for them to be lit, like that?)

Most importantly, Paintbrush, Fan, and Test Tube were coming towards the door. 

Perfect! "Hello, you are exactly who I was looking for."

"Us?" Paintbrush asked. They kept approaching, and so he stepped aside. 

Fan closed the door behind him. It became noticeably quieter.

"Test Tube, specifically, though I do not mind the presence of any of you." He turned to her, "I need your guidance."

Paintbrush looked unimpressed, "We're already investigating some sort of science thing." They kept walking, as did their companions, and so he followed.

Test Tube held up an unfamiliar device that seemed to be tracking... something?

Fan said, "There's some kind of screaming, and it sounds just like the alien child formerly known as Egg did before they hatched!"

Interesting. He was pretty sure that this sound was Bow? Though, in the panic of their first time through this mess he hadn't gotten all the details. He might be able to make time soon to shadow this group.

"Unfortunately, I am going to be selfish and insist you help me first."

"With what, exactly?" Asked Test Tube. 

Oh, right. "Temporal anomaly. Last time, we hypothesized it was a time loop and nothing has disproven that theory as of yet."

Fan lit up, "A TIME LOOP? I've been preparing for this day for half my life!"

"You have?" Asked Paintbrush. 

He nodded vigorously, grin never leaving his face. "Yeah! I've got a secret phrase and everything!" 

Test Tube looked thoughtful. 

Paintbrush looked absolutely bored. "If you need me I'll be, uh. In there." They pointed over their shoulder to the hotel, and started walking away.

"Following Lightbulb around?" Test Tube quipped. 

"Shut up!" They called back without any real bite, reentering and slamming the door behind them. 

"They missed her." Test Tube said. "Personally, I don't have any experience with time loops, so I'm not sure exactly how we're supposed to help."

"Also, you need to prove it! You haven't said my code phrase yet!" 

"To be fair, this is the first time we've spoken about this." 

Fan crossed his arms, "Then how'll I know you're telling the truth?" 

He could just humor MePad, and pretend. Most everyone else was fairly good at that. "I suppose this time you must trust me. However if you tell me now-”

The front door of Hotel OJ slammed against the brick as Paintbrush came bursting back outside, “OJ DIED.”

The dread returned. It was his own fault, this time. MePad had known everyone was in danger, and he’d entered the party twice without warning anyone!

He teleported back into the fray. “Mister Toilet!” 

MePhoneX made itself apparent, and despite the fact that nobody knew what it meant yet, several people still screamed. Probably the sight of a robot with just a red X for a face. He counted himself lucky that he hadn’t been made to be quite so intimidating.

“MEPAD!” Toilet-as-MePhoneX came lunging towards him, wrapping his arms around him too fast for him to have attempted to dodge.

Not that he wanted to. “Hello, my friend.” It hadn’t been that long. 10 hours, maybe? A little more than a sleep cycle. “Are you doing alright?”

“You betcha! Master ADAM is letting me do this super special training!” He patted MePad’s back with those claw-like hands. “You’re in here, too??”

“In a manner of speaking. I do not suppose there is any way to put Mister OJ back?” He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t asked before. 

“Erm,” Toilet pulled away, one hand resting where MePad’s shoulder would be, the other tapping thoughtfully on MePhoneX’s screen. “I don’t think so! The goal’s to find the unhappy buggers, they just go away ‘cuz their problem’s been dealt with! ‘S not literal you see, ‘s more of a metty-for of what the overall Assistant Experience should be. Helping sad people! Moving efficiently! You get it.”

“That I do. Unfortunately, that was the answer I thought you’d give.” He looked past MePhoneX to Paper, who was currently kneeling by OJ’s spilled body. He was trembling like a leaf in the wind, eyes shiny with tears. “How about you take a break and come work with me instead.”

“SOUNDS STELLAR!” Toilet cried, arms up in the air. “You’re not tellin’ me somefing, but you’re my pal, so I’m guessin’ it’s a surprise! Let’s just pretend I didn’t cotton on!”

“Perfect.” MePad turned to address the rest of the crowd. “Apologies for the misunderstanding, everyone. OJ will return as soon as possible. If you have any further questions, please seek out MePhone4.”

He teleported them both far enough away from the hotel to get them away from the sudden wave of objections he was sure were about to erupt, but close enough that Paintbrush, Fan, and Test Tube would be able to see them.

They did spot him, and approach, just like he was hoping. For a few moments, though, it was just the two of them. And, of course, the sinking realization of what he’d just done. There were two corpses in that building and he’d just implied it was fixable. That OJ would be fine.

He wouldn’t be. Not until this version of everything was gone. Not until everyone started over. Not until Paper went back to smiling, placidly, by his friend’s side. Not until he wouldn’t know he was supposed to be mourning.

He dropped his customer service face. “Toilet, do you think a white lie is excusable, if it saves people from pain?”

He raised an arm, and definitely started to say something. But, quickly he appeared to think better of it. “Hmmmm.”

“If I was dead, would you prefer to know, or to pretend I was just… Elsewhere?”

MePhoneX drooped a little. “Well, if you were gone, I’d wanna know where they buried ya, so I could leave flowers.”

“Would it not be easier to pretend I was just away, for a little bit?”

“But then I wouldn’t know how precious my memories were! If you were really gone, I’d wanna try and save every moment, because I’m not gettin’ any new ones!”

Interesting. He sighed, and leaned his casing against the one Toilet was using. It was wrong, of course. Metal against metal, when it should have been metal and porcelain. But it was still nice. “Then I have done something despicable, if only for a few hours.”

That was when the others reached them. 

“Hello again. No more lying. To reiterate, I am experiencing a time loop.” Toilet gasped. “OJ is dead, I failed to prevent it. Toilet was just tricked by Steve Cobs into doing it, this is not a training simulator but the real world. I still do not know Fan’s code phrase. Any questions?”

“I- but ADAM’s never guided me wrong!” 

Personally he thought that hiring Toilet to work under someone who hated him counted, but there was no way to know that in advance. “MePhone4 fired you because he realized ADAM was untrustworthy.”

“Oh…” He leaned a little closer. 

“Anyone else?”

Paintbrush raised their hand, but didn't wait to be called on. “Just to clarify, you forgot to prevent OJ’s death?”

“Yes.”

“Great, thanks.” 

Fan spoke up next, “Who's… Supposed to die after OJ?” 

That was a good question, he thought it was maybe Nickel? It could've also been Soap. “That does not matter, because it won't happen this time around. What is your code phrase?”

He sighed, “It doesn't seem as fun anymore, but you're supposed to say something like this is just like Space Allegories Season 4 Episode 11!” He half heartedly waved his hands around, “The magic’s gone.”

“Isn't that kind of obvious?” Test Tube put her free hand on her hip, “Anyone who's seen Space Allegories could just know about the time loop episode. We watched it together, what if I'm in a time loop?”

“If you said you were in a time loop, I'd just believe you.”

“Aww, you're sweet!”

“Personally, I prefer Time Guy.” Said Toilet. 

That was when the yelling started.

Eventually they did get back on track. After explaining the stakes, and a round of bittersweet goodbyes, Toilet agreed to MePad’s plan. Yes, he could go find some uninhabited part of the island to drop MePhoneX, do something to the controller to make it inoperable, and find a nook to hide in.

Paintbrush had gone off to grab Lightbulb, after he’d been truthful when they asked if she usually “made it.” From one of Test Tube’s monitoring screens, he’d caught a glimpse of them embracing in a field, and making each other flower crowns. He was certain they wouldn’t have wanted him to see any of that, but it was too late.

They’d come in eventually, and no one mentioned their new hats.

Test Tube, and Fan, had been just as helpful as he’d hoped. Test Tube, for her ability to break down what they did and did not know and find gaps to explore. Fan, for his genre-savviness. Apparently, he’d found time to watch a lot of time travel media. 

It was reassuring to have it all broken down in front of him. He hadn’t made it into the night as of yet, for one. It was possible that the loop was time-limited, but as he also knew the death of MePhone4 reset it… It was possible MePhone hadn’t made it past sunset.

MePad powering off or dying presumably caused a loop, but again, the fate of MePhone was unknown in those timelines. It could technically be that MePhone was the important one. An extension of his powers? If he had the ability to control time on top of the generation of beings with independent thoughts and feelings and the creation of inanimate objects out of seemingly nothing, Steve’s desperation seemed more reasonable.

Well, that wasn’t exactly true. Nothing about Steve Cobs was reasonable. But, to someone as twisted as him, time travel would probably be irresistible. Hopefully he never got his hands on it.

(MePad also learned that Test Tube had time travelled before. Technically, she had already said, but apparently he hadn’t processed it. It was a surprise to Fan as well, because she "hadn't put it that way before" and thought "thought it was a parallel world which is different."

She “hadn’t meant to keep it secret” it’s just that “she expected Lightbulb to tell everyone” and “we were fighting at the time, remember?")

Courses of action to pursue:

-Learn more about the loop, to exploit it better. (Order of deaths? The way things went if he didn’t interfere? Start points for all contestants? End point, if MePhone didn’t die? Nearby magical relics? Existence of magic? All avenues for research.)

-Spend time with different contestants to come up with new ideas. This could also be thought of as exploring the loop, but in a less clinical way. Less trial and error, more “exhausting dialogue trees.” Fan’s words, not his own.

It was at this point that Paintbrush had come back with Lightbulb, and her suggestions had been more whimsical. After saying something bizarre he did not have enough context to decode, she’d suggested that he try thinking out of the box! Maybe ask Box? She’d also told him that if she had endless time and no priorities, she’d, “Spend some time chillaxing.”

He told her he’d take it under consideration.

Paintbrush thought this whole thing was ridiculous, but also that he should probably prioritize "destroying the guy that wants to kill everyone.”

Fair enough. He would vastly prefer this all end up with Steve at the very least no longer able to kill everyone. Ideally, everyone alive and happy, and him being powerless to change any part of that. 

From what he knew, Cobs did not require power to have a negative impact on people. It was probably at least partially naturally acquired “rancid vibes.” (Those were Lightbulb’s words.)

At some point, Fan and Lightbulb had gone off to grab dinner. It was in the lull of silence between the three of them that anyone remembered to look at the clock.

Everyone’s eyes had widened as they looked through Test Tube’s monitor at the beautiful sky, painted pink and orange by the beginnings of a sunset.

Regrettably, the four of them weren’t all together when it happened. One moment it had been MePad, Test Tube, and Paintbrush sharing a horrible, striking moment of clarity. Eyes had drawn to Lightbulb and Fan, holding hands. Baxter skittering by their feet. Unaware.

Then he had been alone. In the dark.

Because this was an underground facility, and so, he had ended up wedged between dirt in the newly-real soil of the island. 

There was no sound and nothing to see. But, the pressure was all-encompassing. He couldn’t move his legs. He couldn’t move his screen.

He realized that he didn’t really understand darkness. He had been in dimly lit places, but he’d always had his screen illuminating his step. It was more vast, like this. He could be in a world of nothing. He might as well be in an empty swath of space if not for the way the earth cradled him, every part it could touch.

He didn’t need to breathe. He wouldn’t die here. It was safe, in a way.

And then, of course, he remembered that he had a way of getting out of here. At any moment, he could teleport out of this hole and into the air. He waited longer than necessary. Suddenly, he needed to say goodbye to this sensation. He may never get it again, as long as he lived.

Just as soon as he was in the ground, he was in the sky. He’d overshot, but only by a couple feet. Landing again was painful, and ironically it stole the air more than being entombed had.

He looked at the sky. Why did it have to be such a beautiful evening? Was it better to have a beautiful day, over and over, or a terrible one? Did it matter if he didn’t get to choose? 

MePad stood up to face the next big challenge. MeLife was unplugged. Steve Cobs likely hadn’t forgotten his knife. Someone was about to die.

Luckily, he knew where this confrontation started. He had a head start.

He showed up just in time to see MePhone, terrified and frozen in place as Steve wound up a punch.

Once again, MePad got in the way. He felt curled fingers collide with his screen, the force of the action pushing him back into MePhone.

Perfect.

He teleported away again, fast enough that he wasn’t sure Cobs had even noticed he’d shattered the wrong screen. He put them as far as possible. The beach. It was empty. 

He didn’t have time to think about that.

“Wh- MePad?!”

“We need to find somewhere to hide, sir.” The open sightlines of the beach were somehow more oppressive than being in the dirt. “How fast do you think we could dig a hole?” 

MePhone wasn’t keeping up very well. “Where did you- You’re hurt!”

“It was either you or me.” They needed to find a place to hide. They needed to be already hiding.  

Digging was his first thought, obviously, but that would leave a conspicuous bald spot in the grass. They couldn't bury themselves in sand, they'd likely fry their electronics. The layer of dry sand wasn't that deep, if he understood water tables at all. 

There was another issue. “Do you need to breathe, sir?”

“Yes? MePad, stop ignoring my questions!” 

The dirt plan was completely off the table. Unfortunately. But there wasn't a way to hide up high unless he somehow managed to teleport them to MeCloud. But that seemed unwise, and it was likely out of range. 

Not up high. Down low?

As soon as he thought of it, the answer seemed obvious. If the cave system was natural-

“Hold on tight, sir.” MePad said, as the only forewarning to what he was about to try. They disappeared from the beach, and reappeared…

Surrounded by rock. And, luckily, air. 

Oh, thank goodness. He shouldn't technically be able to teleport into solid rock anyway. He was still relieved. “It should take him some time to find us here.”

“MePad! Where did you go all day? Everybody started harassing me about OJ!” 

“Ah, right, I did suggest that.” He looked at the cave walls. It was dark in here, now. But, of course, not as dark as it had been just a few minutes ago. This was the darkness he was used to. “I wanted them to spend their last few hours doing something other than mourning and cowering.”

“Well, great job, instead everybody got to listen to me make up excuses.”

“I'm sure that was familiar, at least.” 

MePhone threw his hands in the air, “Come on, MePad! I get you're mad at me, but work with me here. Cobs is about to come in here and kill us!”

“Our plan is to wait him out.” It wasn't a good plan, long-term. How many years had Cobs been trying to recapture MePhone at this point? “Or, at least, evaluate this as a hiding spot.”

“Great plan. Instead, we get to spend our last hours cowering.”

He had a point. That was a little ironic. “We aren't, technically, required to think about the situation.”

“What else would we possibly think about?” MePhone gestured around them, to blank cave walls. “MePad! This sucks!”

“Tell me about Season 3. How did you have the time?”

He deflated. “I don't want to. Let's go back to the imminent demise thing.”

They could discuss their mortality at any time. “Why not?”

“I don't want to.”

“Was it bad? Did you not like making it?”

“I did, but then it ended and I had to come back.” He threw his arms out unnecessarily. 

Was Season 3 more escapist than even this? Not having context made things so frustrating. “You need to face reality at some point.” 

“Reality sucks! My contestants are dead, you hate me, he hates me, and at some point he's going to come in here and zero parts of my life will matter!” 

“I do not hate you, sir.” 

MePad realized, then, as MePhone finally looked up at him that he'd been averting his gaze this whole time. 

“I guess you don't. Why'd you jump in front of me?”

“I would rather hurt than watch you be hurt.” The first time he'd done it, MePad had turned over lots of explanations. But, it really boiled down to caring about him. 

And then MePhone started ringing. 

He answered too fast to see what the words said, but MePad didn't need them. He was looking at the contestants on his screen.

The field of view was narrow, so he could only make out a few of them. Cherries, Suitcase, that spoon in the back. 

“Everyone! You're alive?” MePhone was immediately tearing up, and MePad could understand where he was coming from. 

“MePhone, we're getting out!” Said Suitcase, “With the, uh- Fan wasn't done explaining.”

He ran into view, one hand gesturing wildly and the other holding his head. “I'm still working through it myself, the time loop thing threw me off, and maybe it won't matter but-”

“What time loop?” MePhone asked. 

“MePad didn't tell you? Oh, this is either the final one or it isn't! The point is, I think you're part alien!”

… What? 

Test Tube was holding a little white ball of light. “This Shimmer probably gives you your abilities, the object generation. Is MePad dead yet? I'm still wondering if it's time gated or if you're the catalyst.”

“I remain alive.” He said.

“Good to know, can't see anything out there.” She grinned. “Bad for my data, good for your health!” 

“YOUR BEACH IDEA SUCKED!” Taco declared, though she was off-screen. “Soap threatened my life!”

Suitcase budged back into frame. “You can tell him later. I don't really get the time travel part, what's important is we're coming out. All of us! And the light.” 

MePhone wrung his hands, “Does that mean I won't be able to- If something happens to one of you, that's it?” 

Several people nodded, without having to think about it. They'd decided together, hadn't they?

“It's for the best, the way things are now isn't right.” Suitcase glanced to her left, then to Test Tube and the light. “We'll see you on the other side.”

The contestants hung up. 

He didn't dismiss the post-call screen. They stood there for a moment in stark silence. Tears were rolling down MePhone's face, and he made no effort to wipe them away. 

He hesitated. MePad hadn't ever initiated- but it felt wrong to just stand by. “Sir, would you like a hug?”

MePhone looked back at him, eyes darting around, likely tracing the spiderweb of cracks MePad was sure he was still sporting. Then, he smiled. “I'd like that.”

He took a step towards him. 

And then he woke up.

Chapter Text

It happened again.

MePad hadn't died. MePhone4 hadn't died. 

He was standing in the hallway. He was smelling the clean puddle behind him. He was experiencing (scratchy) carpet underneath his feet. 

If he looked in a mirror, his screen would be fine. If he talked to MePhone, he wouldn't start back up where they had left off. 

Not that there was any doubt, by this point, but today was the worst day of MePad's life. 

Taco was in mourning. Toilet was in the dark. MePhone4 was huddling in a closet. Suitcase and Knife were headed straight towards their end. Soap was in danger. OJ was in danger. Test Tube, Paintbrush, and Fan were going to investigate the screaming. Lightbulb and Baseball were keeping everything under wraps.

He strode purposefully down the hall. Soap was closest. This time, he was faster. She was carrying an empty bucket in one hand, mop expertly leaned against her shoulder as she used her other hand to open the storage room door.

“Hello, Miss Soap.” MePad managed to say.

“Oh! MePad, what's up?” Her hand, lingered on the knob for just a moment. When she noticed, she let go as though it had burnt her, and she shook her hand out. Then she tried again, opening the door quickly. “If it's the party, I'm not going.”

“No worries, I had just meant to warn you. If you see a new MePhone, talk to it. It's being piloted by Mister Toilet, he is… confused. Tell him to come find me.”

“Okay.” She rolled the mop into her hand, perfectly touching all of her arm along the way. “Thanks for the tip?”

“Anytime.” MePad was tempted to say every time, but that wasn't true. He walked as quickly as was polite back towards Taco's door. No, Pickle’s door. In any case, she was the obvious next step. 

He started running through everything in his mind again. Next he would warn the partygoers. Whoever found Toilet first should be prepared. No unnecessary deaths, this time. After that, he needed-

MePad tripped over the wet floor sign and fell flat onto his face.

He needed to pay attention to his surroundings. 

… Actually, perhaps that wasn't a bad idea. Something had caused them to start over. He couldn't waste the day until then. He'd spend his time examining his surroundings. 

The memory cave was a good start. He could send MePhone there, and he would be safe from Steve for a time. Were there other useful things on this island? 

He stood back up and kept going. 

He warned Taco about MePhoneX, and told her to consider spending time with Microphone. Beach Day had gone poorly last time, he wasn't going to subject her to that again. 

He warned the party goers about MePhoneX. They were confused, but he got his message out, and that was what mattered. 

Next was MePhone4. 

The door to the closet he was hunkering in was closed, of course. MePad was capable of opening doors. He had enough legs for it, one to support his body and another to do tasks.

Hypothetically, he knew what to do when he got in there. He would enter, through the door, and tell MePhone that the Memory Cave was a natural fixture of this island, and a great place to hide. Then, MePad could leave and start looking around for anything else he could use. 

And yet, he hadn't progressed past standing at the door. MePhone thought MePad hated him. That was where this began, every time. 

MePad still believed the contestants deserved better, but he was starting to be just as guilty of using convenient lies. Some people thought that lies of omission weren't as bad as “true” lies. “Bold-faced” lies. 

Lies of omission were clearly MePhone's favorite kind. MePad had been steeping himself in them. Had he always? 

He introduced himself as MePad, not MePad Mini. He was quick to reassure himself that if someone asked, he would tell them his full name. The consequences were negligible, yet if you laid it all flat it was the same as letting the contestants pretend they were real. 

The same as letting them pretend they were safe. 

He was the wrong person to be in charge of all these lives, wasn't he?

Someone tapped him on the shoulder, and he jumped. 

“Y' alright, buddy?” Asked a tinny, distorted, instantly-recognizable voice. 

“Toilet.” A direct question, he supposed his honesty would shine. “No, I seem to be stuck.”

Toilet cocked his shell sympathetically. “Goo Gone stuck or big thoughts stuck?” 

He didn't know what Goo Gone was, though the name sounded pretty self-explanatory. 

“Big thoughts, I'm afraid. I am beginning to question if…” How could he phrase it? “My moral compass is… Bad.” 

That wasn't quite right. He knew his loyalty outweighed his morals in most cases. That was where the MePhone4 vs Contestants issue came from, realizing he couldn't be loyal to both. 

Toilet raised a hand very seriously. “Don't burn orphanages.”

“Noted.” Luckily he didn't think he was that far gone. 

“Don't kill people, neither, if you can't help it.”

“I'll do my best.” He hadn't killed anyone on purpose. But, with negligence? How many contestants were there, now? He didn't want to do the math.

“Glad I could help ya!” MePad could hear the smile in his voice. So, so expressive. “Any more big thoughts?”

Plenty. Why me? Why can't I go in there? Was taking the Shimmer’s light out of MePhone the problem? 

“Nothing that stands out.” He lied. “But, unfortunately those hats you ordered won’t be coming anytime soon. You’re-”

“WILL YOU SHUT UP OUT THERE? I'M TRYING TO SULK!” Shouted MePhone through the door. 

Toilet flung it open and hovered inside, upon MePhone in moments. “You're sad? I'm here to help!”

“Wh- Why are you a phone?”  

“I think it's a reflection of my sub-conches desire to do this!” He picked MePhone up and started spinning him around, “Isn't this splendid, Mister Phone? You're so light!”

He yelped something that sounded very similar to “put me down,” and for a second he thought Toilet hadn't understood, but a moment later MePhone was back on his feet. 

“Wuh.” MePhone gripped the shelving like a lifeline, quickly shaking off his apparent dizziness. “No, no, seriously. Why are you a phone?”

MePad's turn. “Mister Toilet believes it to be a training simulator ADAM assigned him to, truly it is a plot by our Creator to stress you out by killing your contestants one by one.”

… They were both looking at him. 

“I am currently experiencing a time loop.”

Simultaneously they said, “GOLLY-BULL AGAIN?” and “What are you talking about?”

He sighed, “It doesn't really matter. Sir, I would appreciate it if, by sunset, you would go hide in the cave. It's a natural fixture of this island, and you should be safe for a little longer in there. And, Toilet, at some point you must send MePhoneX away, or break the controls, and hide. In just a few hours-”

“MePhoneX? What, did he run out of numbers?”

“I think he meant X as in the Roman numeral for 10, sir.”

“Oh.” MePhone glanced over at Toilet and the shell he inhabited. He was probably thinking of what that meant for his own age. Personally, MePad was afraid to check what model of MePad they were on by now. He was the Mini, which would make him number 2 after the original, he was fairly sure.

He was endlessly thankful that Steve didn’t send his sequels after him, it seemed exhausting. 

“It’s a pretty nifty machine!” Toilet said, “It moves the arms just how I’d want to, even if I don’t tell it to! Very intuitive.”

MePhone glared at him. “Don’t rub it in.” 

MePad realized that he’d, technically, already told them everything he needed to. He didn’t want to walk away from this conversation, but he had things to do.

He turned and left, heading for the elevator. First, he would explore Hotel OJ. It was his starting point, and unlike the show’s parameters (which he’d traced many times in his off-hours) he really hadn’t spent much time at the hotel.

“You’re swell too, Mister Phone! You’re so small and cute, like this!”

“If you still worked for me, I would fire you for saying that.”

Somehow, their voices weren’t getting any quieter. He stepped into the elevator, turned to push the buttons, and the reason became clear. They were following him.

He selected the top floor. Neither of them chose a different floor. Huh.

“You do know I simply intend to explore the premises, right?”

“I’d explore anywhere with you, MePad!” Toilet exclaimed, pulling him into an unexpected side hug.

“It’s better than-” MePhone started ringing, but quickly dismissed it. “Ugh, it’s like having the hiccups.”

The elevator dinged and the three of them stepped out. Regretfully, MePhoneX’s body let go of his own, but at least it fell into step beside him. The halls were, somehow, big enough for all three of them to walk together without touching. If they were mindful of how they swung their limbs, that was. (Toilet wasn't. Mindful of how he swung his limbs.)

MePad peeked into every room they passed. There were little signs on most of the doors, some of them MS Word Art of names printed off, others seemed professionally lettered, and yet others were just crudely drawn depictions of whoever it was that shared the room smiling and holding hands. 

He, personally, liked the drawings best.

All of the furniture was the same, but individuality shined through in how well beds were kept, if there were additional pictures on the walls (aside from the rather generic art OJ had seen as suitable to place in every room), what kinds of items were lying about, etc. 

MePhone and Toilet seemed happy to entertain themselves. Currently they were discussing cake/frosting flavor combinations, a subject on which he had zero opinions. 

“Pumpkin spice is nothing like carrot cake! For one, carrot cake tastes bad and is bad.”

“Sneaking a little veg into ya desserts never hurt nobody!”

“It hurts me, I'm trying not to be healthy. I'm eating cake!”

“But- The depth of flavor-!”

“Sucks!”

“The cream cheese icing-!”

“It's wasted! If you're not using it on red velvet, it's not meeting its potential, Toilet.”

He found ice machines, a gym (on the 4th floor?), a mailroom (who around here got mail?), a conference room (the furniture didn't match), and several storage closets filled with anything from pool supplies to pool tables (awkwardly, precariously placed on their sides.)

By the time they got to the basement (hot tubs and a pool, laundry room, hallway with a light ominously out) the subject had settled on something there was significantly less to yell about. 

It was asbestos removal again. 

“Because nobody wants their house burnin’ down, right?”

“Right.” MePad answered, sparing only a passing glance at the dumbwaiter shaft. Today he'd learned it went through OJ and Paper’s shared room, as well as several open hallways. No confirmation of if it went through the kitchen, like a proper dumbwaiter. The kitchen was on the first floor and, since he would be leaving through there he was saving it until last.

“So it's in EVERYTHING! They were puttin’ the asbestos in babies cribs!”

“Simple, don’t put your baby in a crib.” Said MePhone.

He was sure that was bad advice. He peered into the next room, there seemed to be a mushroom cultivation setup. He had no idea who would use that. “Babies require a protected sleeping space, since they tend to be rather fragile.”

Well, that was the last of the basement. The others dutifully followed him to the elevator.

“Why do people even bother?” Asked MePhone, who had immediately taken to leaning against the wall as soon as the doors slipped shut. 

“With babies?” Toilet, thankfully, needed the same clarification MePad did.

“Yeah. They’re small, and loud, and they don’t even do anything.” 

“But they’re cute! You get to watch ‘em grow up and learn about the world and all that!” 

He, silently, agreed that babies were adorable, but he really didn’t have the life experience to fully back Toilet up on this one. 

Luckily, their arrival at the kitchen interrupted that particular debate. There was someone in the kitchen, to start, and she greeted them warmly. Medium sized teapot, porcelain. Round, mostly white with green and orange accents. She appeared to be setting up a platter with a variety of cheeses (he spotted no swiss,) two types of crackers (hexagon and square,) and some kind of dip (tan.)

He quickly located the dumbwaiter. Thank goodness, there was some sense in the way this place was built. 

“Hey, pinky, are you ignoring me?” 

He was the only person even slightly pink in here, so she must be talking to him. “Apologies, Tea Pot, I was-”

“It’s Tea Kettle!” She crossed her arms, clearly displeased. “Boy, Toilet, your friend is rude. You’re not invited to nosh.”

Nosh. He quickly pulled up his dictionary, to eat a snack. “That is quite alright.” He didn’t eat, after all. 

That ended up being the wrong thing to say.

It took longer than he would’ve liked to extract himself from the “conversation” with Tea Kettle. Nothing he said managed to make her any less angry. MePhone4 found it all very, very funny. 

Toilet, despite also not having a mouth available to eat at the moment, somehow managed to say “no thank you” in a way that was acceptable! Which was good, he was glad they weren’t both getting yelled at, but it was a bit baffling.

He supposed, as they stepped back out of the kitchen, that technically he could’ve left without the two of them. They were spending time with him incidentally, if MePhone4 wanted a snack and Toilet wanted to gossip, he could’ve left them to it. Instead of what he’d ended up doing, which was stand there awkwardly and try not to say anything. 

Too late now.

At the back entrance of the hotel there was what, honestly, looked like a reception area. One luggage cart, a counter with a tiny bell atop it, a display of brochures. He was pretty sure they were usually supposed to be for local attractions, but since they were on a remote island, all of them were for things like Book Club or The Concept of Keeping Your Room Clean. 

He stepped behind counter to investigate further, finding a swivel chair, an old looking computer, a mug of pens (it read #1 cup,) and… Some sort of device he didn’t recognize. 

It had what looked like a microphone, though it was small. There was a sticky note taped down (not very well) that pointed to a particular button. It just said “Press and hold.”

He pressed and held, and was met with the sound of something crackling to life. MePad reflexively let go.

MePhoneX caught his eye by moving very quickly, Toilet swiveled the body around, scanning the top of the room. “Sounds like there’s a walkie-talkie on the ceilin’!”

“Huh.” Said MePhone, though he didn’t look that interested. He was still holding a little plateful of cheese and crackers, and those took up most of his attention.

A walkie-talkie… Oh! He pressed it down again. “Testing, testing! Is this-” He heard his own voice coming through some sort of speaker.

“Toilet, come over here.” He stopped pressing the button. “I’m going to teleport to different parts of the building, you hold this down and I’ll see from how far I can hear this.”

“Aye-aye!” He said with a salute, and pressed it down. “So, just, anything?”

He could definitely hear it from in here. Luckily, it wasn’t causing feedback. He hated feedback. “Yes, anything is fine.”

He teleported to (right outside of) the kitchen. “Anything for you-”

The basement. “-MePad! Uh, though-”

The second floor sports closet. “-it’s kind of a lot of pressure-”

The third floor ice room. “-not being told what to say and all-”

OJ and Paper’s room on the fourth floor. “-but if it’s just a test, I guess-”

The roof… Silence. 

Right inside the roof access door. “-wasn’t allowed as a kid-”

Back in front of Toilet, “-but, ah! Welcome back!” He lifted his claw, and the speaker system stopped. “Did I do good?”

“You did fantastic. I can confirm, you can hear that throughout the entire Hotel.” He pressed the button back down, “Thank you, everyone, for your patience with this test of the intercom. Just remember, tomorrow’s lottery numbers aren’t even worth speculating about. I will talk to you again, soon.”

He let it go, and felt lighter. He'd done it. This intercom could be very useful. A way to get a message to everyone at once, granted only if they were inside. But, the party being in full swing at the beginning of the loop-

It was perfect. Instead of using trial and error to find every straggler's starting position, he could simply teleport down here and ask that each person note their current position! And, he could warn everyone simultaneously! 

It was all progress. He was making tangible progress. 

He looked over at his companions. They didn't seem to be as enthusiastic as him. In fact, MePhone4 was looking at him funny. He wasn’t sure if MePhoneX would be looking at him funny, if it was physically possible. 

"You know, you've been really odd today." Said MePhone, "I'm all for pranks, don't get me wrong, but usually you're not the type."

Did he mean his line about the lottery? "My message today was unimportant, but in future irritations, this new tool could be invaluable." 

"I'm glad you're perking up, at least!" Toilet pat him gently, hand clacking against his back. "We've been trying to talk to you this whole time, and you’ve barely said a peep."

... Had they been? He thought back to the conversations the two of them had been having nearby. None of it had really required his input, aside from defending himself in the kitchen back there. 

He supposed he could've responded to their comments on the contents of rooms? "Apologies, my priorities are different than usual. I do greatly appreciate the company of both of you, however-"

"You were spacing out and ignoring us." MePhone said. 

"I am very busy and had not invited either of you along." He amended.

MePhoneX tilted like a puppy cocking its head. "But you do WANT to spend time together? We're all buds, now that we don't need to be job site professional!" 

"I do cherish what time we have," Seeing as he was technically supposed to be dead, and all of it was borrowed. "Getting you both out of this time loop so you can live your lives, however-"

"You're really not joking about that?" Asked MePhone, he put his free hand on his hip. For some reason, the motion reminded him of Test Tube. Had she done that recently? "If you were, it wasn't funny the first time."

At the end of the previous loop he'd been pulled away directly before receiving a comforting, heartfelt embrace. It definitely wasn't funny. "Interestingly, you seem to be more likely to believe me if my actions are unmoored and frantic." Such as after having drowned. 

"Well I know you're telling the truth!" Toilet tilted the other way and pat MePad some more. "You're smart all the time, but you've never been PSYCHIC before!" 

… Had he said something he shouldn’t have known?

MePhone4 rang again. That hadn't happened in a while, actually. He hadn't noticed when it had stopped. MePhone slumped forward. His posture was comparable to someone who hated to hike, realizing at the top of a mountain that he'd have to walk back down. 

"Why won't he give up?" He sighed, hand hovering over his screen, clearly caught between the two options. Accept or decline. 

He turned away from his companions, the angle hiding his choice. 

"MePhone4!" He felt himself stiffen. MePhone hadn’t picked what MePad would have. "You're a hard man to get ahold of, you know that?"

"So what? I'm busy." MePhone sounded nonchalant, but his hands were visibly trembling, crackers subtly wobbling with the motion. He was sure his expression would be similarly telling. 

"Too busy to care about your contestants' final challenge? Tsk, what a slacker you still are." Cobs huffed, sounding amused and detached from the whole thing. He could imagine the smirk. "Some things never change. They're on in 15, don't you have any words to inspire your hopeful finalists?"

In... Oh no. He'd lost track of time. 

Toilet was minutes away from being discovered not murdering everyone, and getting whatever consequence that afforded him. He had no idea the status of the Mansion crew. MePhone wasn't in the cave. 

The intercom they were still standing next to seemed insignificant in comparison. 

"They're already up there?" MePhone’s breath audibly hitched. He heard the unspoken part of that. They’ve met with you and you’re still calling?  

"Your little show, while crude, was very inspirational, I just had to make the final challenge my own.” 

What had it been? He’d only heard it once, the first time. He remembered it was cruel. He remembered the others being distressed, as they heard through Bow.

“They’ve both come so far. Knife, he’s got such a strong spirit. He’s made a lot of progress with that anger of his. It’s admirable, how much he seems to want to change. And Suitcase, I never expected her to get this far. Did you? She’s such sympathy fodder, the kind of contestant that gets eliminated just to make another more determined. Honestly, I thought she’d end up just like Soap.”

He knew a surprising amount about the show. 

“They’ve been getting close with each other, too. But, they can’t both be the best. Two will enter, one will leave, you know how this works.”

“They’ll stop you! I know they will!” MePad just kept looking down at MePhone's hands. His fists were clenched tightly enough that he was sure his fingers must hurt, if the paper plate’s newly crumpled side was anything to judge by. 

He broadened his attention and saw the strain on his shoulders, too. He saw the way MePhone’s entire self trembled.

He did not see MePhone move to hang up the call. He heard the beep as it ended, then saw the way his he jerked back in surprise.

Suddenly, MePhoneX reappeared and pulled MePhone4 into a hug. He hadn’t realized Toilet had moved from his side, but, he supposed that was what invisibility did for you.

He stepped closer, watching the clawed hand stroke up and down MePhone’s back. He could hear, now, that MePhone was crying. 

“There, there. What a tosser, right?” Toilet soothed, voice gentle. “We’ll win the day, the three of us can get through anything. You’ve got your friends.”

MePhone’s arms came up to hug him back, crackers falling forgotten to the floor. MePad felt, despite the fact that he’d been here all along, like he’d walked in on a scene that he shouldn't get to see. “You really think we’re friends? After everything I’ve done- and- I’ve said some pretty unforgivable things, Toilet.”

“I’m the one who gets to decide that!” He pulled back, still holding MePhone’s shoulders. “And I-”

MePhoneX suddenly whirled around as though something was behind it.

“Toilet, run!” MePad screamed as he lunged forward to tackle MePhone. 

He teleported himself and MePhone away before he could hear Cobs say anything. They reappeared in the memory cave, still filled with glittering crystals. 

“Wh- Why did you do that?” MePhone shoved him, “We were having a moment!”

“Steve Cobs walked in. We’re nearing the end. Keep going further into the cave, the contestants will call you soon.”

“They’ll what?”

“They’ll call you. If you aren’t hidden in this cave, one of us will be stabbed to death. Now go.”

He donned his invisibility and transported himself to the entrance of the hotel. He peeked inside and realized he’d wasted time being cautious. He saw the moment MePhoneX, piloted by the wrong person, stepped into the party.

He saved everyone he could. It was more than the first time. Soap, Taco, YinYang, OJ, Box, Cabby, Bomb. Fan, Lightbulb, Test Tube, and Paintbrush were here. Bow, Dough, Apple, and Marshmallow were here. Still, it didn’t feel like a victory. He hadn’t made it up to Tea Kettle. He hadn’t been quick enough.

Paper was gone, for instance, so he’d failed at sparing him from the anguish of losing OJ. He cried every time. He was probably crying, now, wherever contestants went when they died. Inside MePhone? 

He stood, facing them all. They looked scared. He wondered, for a moment, if saving their lives even meant anything. They didn't cease to exist when they died. Death reunited them, in fact. 

He wanted them to exist in the world. But, was giving them a few extra minutes of life worth it if all that was left to experience was fear? Philosophers of ethics would have a field day with this situation. 

The contestants started discussing what just happened, expressing confusion about how they'd suddenly disappeared from the hotel to find themselves here. OJ was staring down at his own hands. Soap and Taco met eyes once, then they mutually started ignoring each other.

This was painful to watch. No one was looking at him, likely because no one noticed his bow tie yet. 

He left without saying a single thing to any of them. 

MePad had intended for today to be primarily exploration. Most of it had been, even with Toilet and MePhone shadowing him the whole time. 

But, he'd intended to look around outside as well. Even now he knew it was an excuse to pace around the show’s grounds. It was unlikely he'd find anything out here that was helpful. Most of it disappeared, after all. This island was near-featureless before MePhone had come and given it life. 

Last time, he'd looped without anyone dying. He needed to find the culprit. The sooner he understood the parameters of this existence, the easier it would be to live within them. The easier it would be to, hopefully, find a way around them.

If it was time gated, how much time did he have? If it was tied to the contestants trying to remove the light, what could they do instead? 

He wasn't surprised when everything flickered and disappeared. MePad's eyes turned to the sky, watching three - no, two - silhouettes against the beautiful sky. 

He arrived precisely too late to save Toilet from his fall. Luckily, he'd managed to land a couple feet to the side which meant MePad hadn't been smashed to death by the force of a porcelain person hitting him. Little victories, that would've been painful and embarrassing. 

“Toilet!” He exclaimed, rushing over to have a clear view of his friend’s face.

He groaned, “MePad?” Toilet’s eyes opened, squinting and shiny with tears. He knew he'd seen this part before, Toilet’s fall and that he’d survived. The relief was still just as strong. “Where are you?”

Oh, right. His tie was on. He came closer to sit beside Toilet. “Apologies, I think staying invisible is for the best right now. I’m to your right.”

Toilet tried to turn to him, but winced and stilled. He was currently in his own impact crater, wedged in the ground. “I’m glad… You’re doin’ okay.”

“I’m not sure that I am.” Oh, but, “Obviously you have it worse.”

“Pain’s not a competition. My mum taught me that.” 

Toilet had never mentioned his family before. It hadn’t occurred to him that he’d have any. Did they watch the show? Were they mad at MePad for stealing Toilet’s spotlight? What he said was, “Would it be comforting or painful if I were to touch you?”

Toilet sniffed, once. “It’d be nice…”

He laid down next to him and scooched ever so slowly closer until he could feel Toilet relax against him. This was nice. “If you think of anything that I could do for you, let me know.”

“So you’re gonna stay?” 

In the grass, looking up at the gorgeous sky together with his first and best friend? He could probably come up with excuses not to. He remembered Mic telling him to let loose. 

He thought of no excuses. “Yes. I have spent several days, now, unable to spend time with you without a screen between us. It has been suboptimal.” Well, two screens if he were to count his own. 

It was odd, the lack of movement from his companion. He was used to his boundless energy. Toilet managed to lean a little more towards MePad as he asked, “You missed me?”

“I suppose I did.” Was it so different to hear him through a proxy? What made it important that he was physically with him? “You and MePhone were right, earlier. I think I was ignoring you.”

“That’s okay! Mister Phone was listening, at least. It was nice, bein’ equals with him today.”

“I hope I can get you out of this, so you can explore that relationship more on equal footing.” At some point, MePhone seemed to have thought a little bit and realized Toilet wasn’t so bad. He was glad. He hadn’t noticed when it happened, but he’d always wanted that for them. “Last time we were together like this, I should have… Paid more attention to you. Today I should have paid more attention to you.” 

Toilet hummed. MePad kept going.

“You are one of the most important people in my life. I died without telling you that.” He hoped in his final loop, however it went, he’d have the opportunity to fix that mistake.

“You died?” He whispered back, and MePad knew his eyes were wide. 

“I did. I wanted to save everyone's lives. You, Marshmallow, Taco. MePhone. I wanted to buy them time.”

Silence reigned. When would he learn to stop bringing it up? Nobody liked to hear about his deaths. He needed to get more… Diplomatic about it. 

After what felt like forever of kicking himself for that one, it was likely less than a minute, Toilet whispered, “I’m glad you’re not dead.”

“Thank you. I…” The clouds drifted peacefully through the sky. That wasn't what he wanted to look at. “Give me a moment.”

He scooched away, then leaned himself up on his side. Maneuvering was awkward, but he managed to sidle back up to be against Toilet. The angle was pretty bad, from the distance of none at all his friend was sort of just a pale blur. But he could see his mouth, and his eyes, and that made it better. 

“Is this alright?” He could watch the sunset on any version of this day. Today he was spending time with his friend. 

“Mhm.” He got back, now able to watch the subtle way Toilet’s mouth buzzed with the hum. Again, very blurry, too close. “What're you gonna do, after this?”

“Probably live through this day another half a dozen times.”

“I mean after your timey-thing. Mister Phone won't be hiring me again, even if we are friends.” Toilet was smiling, eyes pinching in the corners, “I haven't figured out my next gig.”

After the show was over? “Honestly I… never thought about it.” He'd thought about how things would be ending. If MePhone didn't want him on Season 3, he definitely wouldn't be invited for Season 4. If there was one. 

The first time, he'd simply died before it came up. Now, this was taking all of his attention. “If a sacrifice of my life is not required…” Oops, so much for not bringing it up all the time. That was going to take practice. “I have no idea.”

“You could come with me.” He was smiling wider, “We could be flatmates, I'd do more ‘o the same old. Demo, building, you know. You could be some kind of professor scholar type!”

Interesting. “What would I teach people about?”

“Anything! World always needs more teachers.”

He supposed that was true. “Technically I am uneducated, so I would need to pursue some kind of certification, I think.” He was pretty sure they didn't just let anybody teach. 

“Aw, you'd study up in no time!” Again, it was so odd having a conversation with Toilet where every sentence wasn't punctuated by movement. “If you were my teacher, I would've actually learned my parts-o-speech.”

“Why's that?”

“Would've wanted to impress you!” His eyes looked to where MePad was, though MePad knew he couldn't really see him. “I've always thought you were neat, ‘s why I was jealous at first. MePad's too cool, I can never be him, how dare he!”

Huh. “Personally I thought you were just upset that my hiring implied you were not big enough to fill the role.” 

“Nah, I just knew I couldn't stack up. You're a natural, but this was my first telly gig, you know? I understand, now, of course. We're a team.”

It was nice to be a team. “The day we met was actually the second day I was alive, you know that?”

Toilet gaped.

“It's true. I was programmed to be able to get up and go as soon as I finished installing my updates. Coincidentally, I turned on the evening before Episode 2 was to be filmed.” MePhone had stayed up all night, talking to him. He'd basically gotten a crash course on the show, enthusiastically given by its de facto biggest fan.

“So… So I was the first person who was ever mean to you?!” Oh no, Toilet was tearing up. That wasn't why he'd said that!

“Toilet, it is alright! I just wanted- I was new, too. I was looking up to you.” At first, he had been put off. MePad wanted to work side by side, so he had been a little offended that he'd shown up and immediately gotten mocked. 

MePad hadn't understood what he'd done to so quickly upset him. But, it wasn't hard to see how hard Toilet tried. So energetic, so enthusiastic, so expressive. He admired these qualities, he still did.

They didn't have much they did together at the beginning. He and MePhone would tally the votes, MePad would get the graphics together. He'd sit there and listen as MePhone brainstormed before challenges. (His input wasn't required, in fact often MePhone would look surprised as though he'd forgotten there was somebody there.)

And, yet, despite doing very different things, he watched Toilet as he worked. He watched him casually interact with contestants. He noted how much more stiff he was in comparison. Inflexible, robotic, lifeless.

“I was so glad when we resolved our differences.” MePad concluded. That was what he wanted him to know, from all that had flickered through his head just now. “I cherish our friendship.”

“Me too.” At some point, his tears had spilled over, and MePad traced their paths until they disappeared behind the edge of Toilet's face. Apparently, he wasn’t laying completely level, all of his tears fell to the same side. “I've, uh, been thinking-”

“Well that's a surprise.”

All of the warmth of the moment drained away in an instant. He wanted to scream, but that would give him away. 

“Who- who's there?” 

“Aw, we talked just earlier. Remember? You were slacking.”

MePad moved like a burglar, like a prey animal, like someone who had died before. He was hyperaware of every. Tiny. Adjustment. As he tried to turn to face the threat.

Steve Cobs stood, battered but not beaten, casting a shadow almost large enough to be appropriate. With one hand he dragged behind him something long, and floppy, and black.

“You tricked me!” Toilet objected. “I never wanted to hurt anybody!” 

“I chose you for your idiocy, and yet, you surpassed my expectations.” MePad hated that laugh, that smirk. He wanted Cobs to never look at anyone like that again. “You spent your entire tenure at Meeple torturing MePhone4! Just like I wanted you to. And yet, at the very end, you open your eyes and stop? You really can't do a single thing right.”  

He wanted to argue with that. Everything Steve thought was so wrong. Everything was twisted, and cruel, and wrong.

He couldn't give himself away. 

Cobs hefted the item he was holding higher, and as the joints moved, MePad recognized it. “Well, Toilet, I think…”

He readied his legs to spring. 

“It's time I let you go.” Steve Cobs swung back MePhoneX’s severed limb, grinning as it came to connect. 

With MePad. 

He fell backwards into Toilet, and god it hurt. The sensation of being shattered wasn't so novel, though that didn't give him the presence of will to move off of his friend. 

Toilet screamed his name, and MePad just laid atop him. His back throbbed, his screen stabbed. None of his internals were anything but sore from being jostled. Worse than punched, better than stabbed.

Unfortunately, he could still see him at this angle.

“Oh, there you are. Care to tell me where our mutual friend might be?”

He couldn't move. He wouldn't give MePhone away. All he did was glare, eye twitching. He wasn't meaning to do that part, it just hurt so much. Better than being stabbed, it was better than stabbed. 

“Nothing to say? Hm, I guess you're only verbose when you have time to rehearse.” Steve reached for him, and though his hand was no different than anyone else’s, the feeling of it against him burned. He flinched, but didn’t do anything else. If this was how it had to end, it was okay. It was better him than Toilet.

And then, he was shoved aside. Like eraser debris, he was discarded.

He heard it an instant later. The almost musical ringing of porcelain and metal, each high and light as they met. And, underneath, the blood curdling scream. 

There was a moment in which MePad had no thoughts. Just tension, and pain, and fear.

But, then, he heard the shatter.

And then he woke up

Chapter Text

MePad fell to his knees. Oh no, oh no, oh god, oh why?

He was having thoughts layered on top of each other, desperate and loud and each one as horrified as the last.

Last time, when he’d been with MePhone, and neither of them had- Horrible, horrible, horrible- What kind of person- How could he possibly prevent-

He sat upon his knees and imagined what his eyes hadn’t seen, no matter how many other things he wanted to imagine instead. It was real, it had happened. It was gone, now, the way his screen was fixed. But, it had happened. Time could’ve decided right then and there to go back to normal, and he would’ve had to live in a world without his best friend.

It was worse because he hadn’t considered Toilet’s mortality very much. Why would he? In that first loop, when he thought it was the afterlife, he’d figured Toilet had died. He’d thought it was his own fault. He hadn’t heard the man shatter.

How did it keep getting worse? They’d distracted him so effectively, then. When time had looped again, he’d discarded the thought that Toilet- He knew Cobs didn’t consider MePhone or his creations, Marshmallow, Taco, Suitcase, Knife, Mic, Test Tube, Lightbulb, Paper, Soap, any of them to be people. He understood that they were all in the line of fire. 

Cobs saw a robot and lines of code to be discarded and overwritten, when unnecessary. He didn’t see how vibrant they all were, how wonderful. He was different from MePad, crueler. 

He understood that Steve Cobs was willing to kill any of them for his goals, as wrong as it was.

But Toilet was different. He went to school, he had a parent, he had lived a real life. He had people to return to. How could-

He hated this day. He hated that man. 

It was one of the most intense feelings he’d ever emulated, but it wasn’t strong enough. He should be able to hate him enough for it to be felt across the space that separated him from that miserable, horrible, awful, despicable, murderous, heartless-

But, he wobbled where he knelt. Somehow, MePad was the one who had to take him down. He was the only one that could. 

The enormity of his task finally understood, MePad laid flat on the floor and cried.

It felt like forever, but it wasn’t. Mic hadn’t even showed up by the time he’d started to feel the carpet again. It was itchy. The grass where they had laid together, he could’ve spent hours there. 

He didn’t have hours. Not then, and not now.

MePad teleported himself down to the intercom and dragged himself towards it. He was sluggish, and shaking, but it was better to move slowly than not at all.

He depressed the button. “Hello, everyone. This is MePad. If Mister Toilet would please-” He sounded like such a mess. His voice was as shaky as his limbs, “Report to the reception desk on the first floor. Thank you.”

He sat down, but of course this room was carpeted, too. It was brighter than the stuff upstairs, it had clearly been cleaned less, but the texture was the same.

MePhoneX appeared before him.

He hadn’t run out of tears after all. 

“MePad?” It crouched down to be level with his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

He stared at the limbs. Which one had it been? He hadn’t even noticed. “You need to get away.”

“Huh?” MePhoneX backed up a step.

“He’s tricking you. ADAM. If you stay where you are-” MePad’s breath hitched. He didn’t even need to breathe, and yet it was betraying him. Toilet would die. If Cobs didn’t get to MePhone or MePad first, if he had any reason to, he would kill him. “You need to leave, you need to get away.”

MePhoneX’s limbs curled as though afraid. He didn’t want that reaction but- But it was the right one. He should be afraid! 

Toilet didn’t say anything. They looked at each other, but he didn’t say anything.

“You are one of the most important people in my life, and I am glad to have met you.” He turned away, he couldn’t stand to keep seeing that ominous red X instead of Toilet’s face. At least, if this was the last loop, he’d have said it. “I might still have time. I’m- I’ll- You find a place to hide, I’ll- I’m-”

Why was it so hard to string his words together? He closed his eyes and just tried to focus on his message. “I will find you. Wherever you are.”

He teleported outside without daring to peek again at his companion. MePad started scanning the sky to see if he could still spot his ride.

Toilet was likely at MeCloud. When the boat disappeared, he fell from there. Cobs started at MeCloud, but also fell from the boat. MePad just needed to find the boat. And the first step was getting to MeCloud.

There it was. The hot air balloon Suitcase and Knife shared. It was small, and far away, but he could still see it which meant it definitely wasn’t out of range. 

He guesstimated the distance and teleported. 

Unfortunately, he found himself reappearing in the open air. MePad looked around (mostly above him, since he was falling pretty rapidly) and sure enough. There it was. 

He tried again, and- Ow! Slammed directly into something, screen-first! 

“What's the big idea?!” 

He blinked down at the floor of the basket, and the too-close blur of grays right beneath him. He sat up quickly and found that what he'd done was land directly on Knife.

It seemed he'd collided with his dull edge, luckily. He didn't enjoy being skewered. 

“Apologies, Mister Knife. I misjudged my-”

“Your screen!” Interrupted Suitcase. 

Ah, he must’ve cracked on the landing. He noticed the dull ache, now that she’d pointed it out. 

“You’re crying.” She said. 

Was he? He might be. He recalled tears appearing right as he saw MePhoneX, but he wasn't sure if they had stopped. “Disregard that. I will be alright.”

“What about me, huh?” Grumbled Knife, rubbing his blade’s dull edge, “I wouldn't recommend dropping in on people like that.”

“Noted and apologies, I was running somewhat late. I will be your… impartial third party for this.” A lie, in some ways. He might judge their actions, but only for usefulness and not for the purpose of the show. 

“Okay?” Suitcase tilted her head, “Didn't you resign?”

Oh, right, she'd been there. They both had. “Yes. I am currently… seeking out Mister Toilet. He's somewhere at Meeple HQ right now.”

Knife gave him a look, “Why bother?”

“Huh?” 

“I said, why bother? MePhone and I disagree on a lot of things, but he was right about Toilet.” Knife inspected his nails. 

His eyes narrowed, “Clarify?” MePad dared him. 

Knife looked back at him, flatly. He had circles under his eyes. “Loud, annoying, useless, a turncoat, apparently-”

He wasn’t standing for this, “You will take that back, Mister Knife, unless you want-”

“Okay, okay, let's settle down!” Suitcase was wearing a huge, unconvincing smile as she squeezed herself between them. “We've got a big challenge ahead of us. If we see Toilet, we'll let MePad know. Alright?”

“Sure.” Knife stood up and turned to gaze out at the rest of the world. 

He wasn’t sure what his threat was going to end up being. Mostly, he wanted to shout about Toilet’s virtues, but clearly that wouldn’t help anything. So, instead, MePad sat still and waited for them to arrive. 

Everyone was very, very quiet.

Their second (or eighth, depending on if you were counting MePad not being there those other times) foray into MeCloud was very, very similar to the first. (He didn't feel like doing the math on that one.)

MePad was invisible the whole time, which caused the contestants to pay even less attention to him than last time. His screen was broken. Now that he’d been made aware of it the ache didn’t leave. 

He, again, followed either Suitcase or Knife at any given time, and when they met he switched. He started with the opposite person, and they were meeting up around the same spots, so he was pretty effectively getting the other half of the search.

The song was horrible. He felt exhausted, despite how early he was into this loop. Thoughts of finding Toilet, of knowing his location, of plotting out an escape route… Those kept him moving.

He didn’t step into the closet, this time. He stood outside and let Suitcase and Knife handle it. Information, he was gathering information. 

MePad also knew he’d cried enough times today, and he didn’t want to again. He didn’t want to think about 3GS.

Toilet. He was going to find Toilet. He hadn’t, yet. Not a single dock in sight. (Was it a dock for a flying boat? Or would it be called a landing pad? Was he looking for a runway? A hanger? Whatever it was, he hadn’t found it.) 

He watched from the hall, as well, as Suitcase kicked open the door and the two of them entered His office. 

He hadn’t seen much of this confrontation, last time. He had given himself away by being visible for most of the journey. He had more time to appreciate the room, now. It was bright, which was appealing. Sunlight was good for one’s health.

Most things that weren’t white were gilded, which he did think was a bit obnoxious. The way the light reflected off of everything, blinding. Maybe that was part of the intended effect? Dazzle whoever was coming to speak with you, so they’d be less effective at negotiating? 

“Defeat me, huh? Clearly, neither of you have given much thought to your plans. If I were you, I would’ve brought weapons.” Cobs swivelled his chair to meet eyes with them. “And not just MePad.”

Uh oh. He took a step back.

“I was really hoping it could be just the three of us, maybe four if someone ever picks up.” He was looking directly at him. His smile unsettled MePad greatly. The last time he’d seen it, he’d been moments from beating someone to death, so unsettled was probably reasonable. “So avoidant. You’re taking after 4, you know. Both so confident, and yet, so unaware of yourselves. I’ll give you a hint, your bowtie gives you away.” 

If he was already caught, he might as well speak. He might as well ask the one question he wanted the answer to. “Where are you keeping Toilet?” 

“Doesn’t matter.” Cobs gestured vaguely with one hand, “Turn him off.” 

He teleported to the left, narrowly dodging what had gotten him last time. It appeared to be one of those faceless circles Cobs was keeping around.

Something else jumped on him, and he felt his invisibility slip as he was slammed to the ground, this time onto his back. He stared up at the little white thing as it held down his power button. How was it controlled?

It didn’t matter. “Good luck.” He said.

The power menu popped up. Before it could touch anything, he selected Restart.  

He had an instant left of c-

And then he woke up.

Except something was wrong. 

Instead of going from flat on the floor to standing, instead of going from one alert moment to the next, instead of being back in that familiar hallway-

He was sitting, propped up against something.

He was groggy, his background processes were still starting up.

This wasn't the hotel. 

The floor underneath him was refreshingly cold and smooth. Whatever he was leaning against wasn't as stable as a wall, he felt it press against his back unevenly. His surroundings were dark, tinted purple by his own light. Across from him was a shelf of mostly cardboard boxes, labeled junk or board meeting notes.  

With a sinking feeling in the gut he did not technically have, he realized where he must be. Somehow, selecting restart had worked. But, now he was in the junk closet. 

He felt himself tremble. The rational part of himself thought this was ridiculous, this was a room in the building he meant to be in. He hadn't lost his progress this loop, just a little bit of time. Toilet had probably found a safe place, he was resourceful. 

And yet, his artificial breath came ragged.

Somehow, without having known this place existed until recently, it was the worst-case scenario to end up here. And, yet, wasn't it his fate? The first time around, if he hadn't somehow been given this opportunity to try over and over, this could've been his resting place. If Steve had bothered picking his body up from the ground. 

Logical or not, he was shaking, and hyperventilating, and something was missing. MePad wasn't sure what yet, but-

Then he felt it. In his headphone port. It was unfamiliar, he'd never put a headphone jack in there. If he wanted to listen to music without playing it out loud, he didn't need external hardware. But, now he'd noticed. There was something in there.  

Another irrational thought. What if he'd just broken the time loop? For days and days, he'd woken up in the exact same way. Die? Hotel. Witness death? Hotel. Wait long enough? Hotel. 

Reboot in the middle of the day. Junk closet. It was different. 

Something touched him, and he slammed backwards reflexively. Ow. 

When he opened his eyes, he hadn't realized he'd closed them, he was face to face with MePhone3GS. 

"Are you okay?" He asked. He was smiling down at him kindly, if also a little sadly. 

MePad expected to be honest and say no. There was no reason to lie. He spoke, just like he did every day, except there was no sound. 

His panic must have shown on his face, judging by how 3GS looked at him. "I know but it gets-" His screen filled with static, but just for a moment. "It could be worse!" He concluded, wearing a bright and unconvincing smile.

MePad tried to school his expression to smile back, but he was sure it was just as hollow. 

3GS settled down across from him, blocking MePad's view of a box labeled mostly extension cords.

"My name is MePhone3GS." He gestured to his right, “That's Mecintosh. He keeps to himself, but-”

A screen flickered on, small and mostly dark except for a green segmented display. He looked irritated. “Heard my name.”

3GS patted the top of Mecintosh, gesturing to MePad with his other hand. “Our corp is one stronger, today!” 

Mecintosh examined him, for a moment. He wasn't sure what he could do, other than just sit there and be observed. He was sure he looked pathetic, with his broken screen and shaking legs. 

Finally, he said, in a completely flat tone, “I'm sorry for your loss.”

3GS sighed. “He's forgotten how to be part of a team.”

Mecintosh didn't dignify that with an answer. Instead, his screen flickered back off. But, now that he was listening, MePad could hear his fans running. 

He tried to speak again, this time to just introduce himself. I'm MePad. But again, nothing happened. He was suddenly aware of his headphone jack again. 

He couldn't tell them his name.

The third time, he didn't even try to form words. He just screamed. 

It felt not just like a nothingness, but a tightness, squeezing where speech was supposed to happen. It felt irritating, it felt stifling, it felt bad.  

"Is your line supposed to be doing that wavy thing?" Asked 3GS, concerned and yet calm.

He slumped back against the shelves. He peaked an eye open to see 3GS gesture to his own mouth, then mime a squiggly path across it. Ah, he supposed 3GS hadn't ever met anyone with a soundwave mouth before. He nodded. 

"Can you... Talk?" 

He supposed he couldn't. But, this was an introduction, and it wasn't always beyond his capabilities. Unless, of course, he never got the plug out-

Oh, wait. MePad may not have the arms to reach up and fix it, but 3GS did! He began trying to adjust his volume, to display the mute symbol. 

"So-?" 

He began to gesture, as best he could, to his top right side. First, by looking in that direction, then by pulling up arrows and pointing them there. Finally, he laid forward to give 3GS access. 

"Oh! You've got a, uh." There was silence for a moment, "I guess he must've..." Static. "We're in this together, comrade! Keep strong, and we’ll make it through!" 

He almost jumped as he felt a hand touch his top. If he'd been smart, he would've turned around and laid on his back so he wasn't just flat on the floor. It was too late now. 

(Would he get any more do-overs? He'd been so reckless, breaking his screen. Being seen. He hoped-)

"It's really in there." He said, and MePad felt his finger poke and prod. This must be what it was like to be at the dentist, mildly uncomfortable but mostly just awkward. "My new friend, this may be designed- We will need tools to fix this."

Ah. He laid there for a moment. 3GS' hands rested gently on his casing. 

He screamed again, while no one was looking at him. It would've been guttural and passionate, if it existed at all. Mic would've been proud, if she'd remembered, and if the scream had existed. 

He sat back up, and sighed. 3GS looked sheepish, "It's okay! I have my own problems, believe it or not."

MePad just looked at him. Even if he'd been able to respond, he wasn't sure what to say to that. 

"Mecintosh has his problems, too!" He pat the computer, who turned back on and gave him a look. 

He glared. "I heard that one."

"You were meant to." He pat him several more times, and MePad noticed that (unlike everything else in here) Mecintosh lacked a layer of dust. 

"I have my encyclopedias. I've accepted that I'm just another hateful fixture of this place. I'm doing great." He said it all flatly, like MePad might mention the outside temperature. 

3GS's eyebrows tried to meet in the middle. "I hear you when you cry." 

"You too." Mecintosh rolled his eyes, then looked over at MePad. "Now unless this new one is brave enough to throw me out a window, I really am busy in the X section."

His face disappeared again. 3GS didn't move his hand. MePad realized Mecintosh hadn't complained about that. 

The attention was on him again. 

"You can't talk, unless we get that thing out. Progress towards our objective." 3GS smiled at him, though he still looked a little sad. MePad nodded, it was something, at least.

He was impressed that 3GS was acting so… Well? Personally, MePad had two (silent) screaming fits today and he’d cried twice. Those were both without having been locked in a closet for years on end. He wouldn’t have been surprised if these two were completely incoherent. Then again, he was new and interesting, who knew what the status quo would look like once they all settled into their fate?

And then something clicked into place. When he’d wanted the plug removed, he’d displayed arrows on his screen. He had a screen, on which to display. He was so “off his game” today. And maybe for the rest of his life. He didn’t scream a third time, it wasn’t satisfying enough to warrant the effort.

“I just remembered I can do this.” He wrote out in large, blue text. He put his face on a lower layer.

“Oh! So you can.” 3GS smiled a little wider. “Let’s start over! My name is MePhone3GS.”

“MePad.”

He felt a little more in control, after that.

Some conversations were… Difficult, even with text and his entire image library. Every time he tried to bring up Steve Cobs, 3GS would glitch and try to repress it.

Finally, MePad had settled on, “I was working on a TV show, but something bad was happening.” True. Nonspecific. 

“What, uh.” 3GS looked away from him, clearly trying to form a thought. “Why come here?” He curled further into himself, gesturing loosely with one arm. 

“My best friend-” Wait a minute. He displayed a loading gif, and the text, “One moment.” 

He stood up. He didn’t need to, but it felt like the right thing to do. MePad had wasted so much more time, feeling sorry for himself! Why cry? Why scream? He couldn’t talk, and his screen was cracked, but he’d come up here to find Toilet.  

Why had he immediately decided he was useless? Ridiculous. Short-sighted. 

“The door’s usually locked.” Said 3GS, “If you’re thinking of leaving. Junk isn’t supposed to, uh.” He dissolved into static. “Oh, MePad, you’re up!”

He didn’t need to open the door. He took in a deep breath, which again he didn’t need, and-

AUGH!  

Reaching for his teleportation powers dosed him with a full-body zap of electricity, sending him crashing back to his knees. 

3GS ran over to support him. “Buddy? Come on, let’s-” A voice that wasn’t his came out, “-just let it happen-” The static was audibly louder than usual, “-get you comfortable.”

The hopelessness was back. Why hadn’t his first reaction been to teleport away? Had he noticed, subconsciously, that he was unable?

MePad didn’t answer any questions for a while.

For a little bit 3GS kept talking to MePad, whether or not he was responding. Mecintosh only chimed in when his name was mentioned, and he seemed to give either a nihilistic remark or a fun fact. Though he understood the nihilism, the fun facts were preferred. 

Allegedly he had “every floppy the company’d ever tried to trash.” Whatever that meant.

3GS had given up eventually. MePad was sorry about that, but without having a goal, he just didn’t have the energy right now to get to know him better. He’d introduced himself, this either was his fate or it wasn’t. Without something he was running towards there was no way to get away from his thoughts. 

They were mostly about Toilet. How nice it was in the grass, even though he should have been concerned for his health and safety. How sweet the future he proposed was. To work separately, but come together in the evenings. 

Would they discuss things while Toilet ate dinner? MePad didn’t need to eat, but he’d learn to cook if it meant making his companion happy. He knew they were friends beyond just their status as coworkers, but to imagine continuing to spend their time together, as long as they both wanted, was enticing.

He really hoped he woke up from this. He wanted more chances. 

But, of course, there was the issue of him. Steve Cobs. A future would only be possible for anyone once he was gone.

He apparently had the technology to nullify MePad’s transportation powers. He was ruthless in his determination. They probably wouldn’t be able to run very far away before he caught up, if they tried that. 

And, plus, they lived on an island. Any boat they constructed would be rendered useless as soon as the contestants unplugged MeLife. 

Where was the nearest landmass? There wasn’t anything visible on the horizon, from any direction. 

… Why was he planning, if he was stuck here? 

He glanced over at 3GS and Mecintosh, both looking dead to the world. Ah, right. Because he didn’t have the energy to explain things to them. 

Did they understand? Was there anyone in their lives that they were petrified to lose? Or, more likely, had they already lost everyone? They were both spirited, it was unlikely if there was someone out there they cared about that they'd be rotting in here instead of trying to get to them. 

Maybe they were both like MePhone, before he'd run away. Before his escape, he had no one he cared for but Cobs. His contestants were still just ideas in his head, MePad was just a last minute impulse. 

He supposed he was pondering the old question, originally asked by... Some old poet. Pennyson? Tellyson? "Is it better to have love and lost, or to never have loved at all?"

... Was it originally phrased as a question? It may have been a statement where the author declared it one way or the other. He didn't feel like looking it up. 

He knew he preferred to have lived with MePhone and his contestants than to have lived a life with Cobs, bending over backwards to please him until he broke and was discarded. Understand it or not, there were people who thought he had worth. If 3GS or Mecintosh had a critical error, who would miss them now but each other? 

He'd ask them later. Right now, they were resting, and he wanted to join them. He stood up and settled down on 3GS' other side, not touching. He didn't know him well enough yet for that. 

When he woke up, he'd either be in here or in the hotel. He really hoped his fears were unfounded, that this wasn't his final destination. He had no idea what caused the anomaly, after all. 

MePad adjusted his sleep mode timer to be shorter, closed his eyes, dimmed his screen, and stayed very, very still. He focused on the shelves behind his back, the way the metal was cooler than the cardboard. 

If he got out of here, he was going to be brave. Steve Cobs, despite it all, was a mortal man. How long of a fall could he survive? 

Instead of alarming him, thoughts of committing violence soothed MePad's inner tension. After all, that man had no qualms hurting Toilet. Golden rule. 

He sunk into his internal processes, a soothing mirror of dying. Numb legs, numb shell, no background operations. He hadn't slept in days, now. 

Perhaps it would do him some good.

And then he woke up.

Chapter Text

It was exactly like it was supposed to be. MePad was standing in the hallway of the hotel.

He sighed in relief. One crisis was out of the way, the time loops were still active. 

MePad realized he probably should’ve asked MePhone3GS and Mecintosh more questions, now that living there wasn’t to be his foreseeable future. But, it was fine. Laying still and attempting to sleep was the right call at the time. 

What was he going to do with this loop? He was still a little off his game, due to… Everything. He wanted to find Toilet. That was still true. Maybe if Cobs didn’t have the upper hand, he’d give him what he needed? Steve Cobs was as mortal as anyone else.

... He had an idea.

First step. 

He teleported down to the front desk and pressed the intercom’s button. “Hello, residents of Hotel OJ. Will Mister Toilet please come to the reception area at the back of the hotel? I, MePad, would like to speak with you. Everyone else, please return to your day and cherish those around you. All we have is right now, and it’s important to live without regrets. That said, I am about to commit an act of terrorism, so wish me luck.”

He let go of the button, and the speakers crackled back into silence. He maybe shouldn’t have admitted that, but-

MePhoneX was there only a few moments later.

“Terrorism?” Asked Toilet.

“You do not need to worry about it.” He said, which was a true statement. “I just wanted to catch you up really quick. I am experiencing a time loop. You are my best friend, and I cherish you and all the moments we’ve shared. Unfortunately, you are being tricked. ADAM works under Steve Cobs. Steve Cobs wants you, and MePhone, and the contestants dead.”

“Oh no!” MePhoneX’s hands covered where its mouth would be, if it had one.

“Wait, that may be misleading. Rather, he does not value any of your lives properly and does not mind if you die? It is one or the other.” Did it matter? 

He needed to come up with a standard way to say all of this so he didn't come up with questions mid-speech. 

He shook himself, and tried to sound reassuring. “The point is, I’m coming to MeCloud. Do not let yourself get hurt, hopefully I shall soon know your location, and we can work on making an escape route for you.”

“Oh! I’m on some kind of boat-y thing, but one that flies!” 

He knew that already, “Thank you, my friend. Now, please do not continue deactivating the contestants, they don’t like it. Consider breaking the controls to MePhoneX, the one you’re piloting, and finding a place to hide. Be careful, I want you to be safe.”

“Well- You be careful too!”

“I will be.” He lied, and teleported away.

When he reappeared by the hot air balloon he found that Suitcase and Knife were still, thank goodness, on the ground. 

“GUH!” Knife startled again, but the matchbox wasn’t open, so he just ended up flinging it. It hit MePad in the forehead, but it was tiny, so it didn’t even hurt. 

“Hello Mister Knife, Miss Suitcase. I have business at MeCloud, may I hitch a ride with you?” He asked and picked the box up, holding it out for Knife.

He snatched it back, “What kind of business?” 

“It does not matter.” Terrorism. “Carpooling is simply an important way to save on fuel in these uncertain times. As well, we only have one balloon.”

“I say, the more the merrier!” Suitcase smiled up at him as she opened the door. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Knife turned away from him and opened the matchbox, igniting the… Whatever it was called. The part that made a hot air balloon go.

“Thank you.” He, of course, closed it behind him. “And, may I borrow that box of matches when you’re done with it?”

Knife soon handed it over, and MePad tucked it into one of the sides of his bowtie. He’d been wearing it for almost two weeks at this point, and this was the first time he’d found anything small enough to put inside. He wasn’t sure why they had pockets, the tiny capacity was pitiful. 

That said, he wasn’t complaining. Thank you, Test Tube, for adding as many odd features to your creations as possible.

Though, now it sat lopsided. Which seemed like a pretty obvious disadvantage to having storage space in a lightweight decorative item.

They lifted off.

Their journey was significantly more peaceful, this time. It was a nice day out. He stood and looked out at the vast, endless blue sky interrupted only by a smattering of cottony clouds. 

Knife and Suitcase spoke about what they’d do after the show, and he stared ahead. If he survived all of this, he was going to be roommates with Toilet. If he’d still have him. But, Knife had made his opinion abundantly clear last time, and he wasn't in the mood to hear it again.

He’d forgotten Knife had matches, actually. It was a bit serendipitous. He was planning to use a pin for this, he was sure he’d seen corkboards with pushpins in several offices. But, now, he just needed to grab one other thing to be ready.

As MeCloud approached, beautiful and yet disgusting with its context, he turned to look at the finalists. “I will be going ahead, but I wish both of you luck with your challenge.” 

“You know, you could tell us what you’re doing.” Said Knife, crossing his arms over his chest.

“It is a little odd of you to be… Mysterious?” Suitcase glanced beyond MePad, to the approaching building, and then back at his face. “This isn’t a good place, you know.”

“I am well aware.” MePad was becoming more aware every time he came here, actually. “A friend of mine- That is to say, it's important that-” Why was it so hard to come up with the words? 

Unexpectedly, it was Knife that reached out to him by placing a hand on his side. It was warm. It was gentle. He thought of 3GS, helping him to the floor. 

Knife said, “Be careful.”

He really had come a long way. “Thank you.” 

He wanted to say something longer, but the words were escaping him. His plan kept running over and over in his mind, looping on itself and diverging ever so slightly when he thought of something better. 

Finally, as he turned on his invisibility and their balloon landed right where Cobs expected it to… “I am proud of both of you, no matter who wins. Good luck.”

They both nodded to him, to each other, and steeled themselves for their challenge ahead.

Had he already wished them luck? It didn't matter. They'd forget soon, anyway. 

He shadowed them until they got inside, where he began teleporting around. 

He missed the room he'd been aiming for twice, first by missestimating the floor (he needed to be one down) and then by appearing one room over in somebody's office. Ironically, there were several pushpins in here. He would've been fine without the matches. 

He grabbed a few and carefully packed the other side of his bowtie, just in case.

It was tiresome teleporting so frequently in a space like this, odd and labyrinthine. He barely had a grasp on its layout. Hotel OJ had a somewhat regular floor plan. And, you know, teleporting outside was exceedingly simple. 

But, finally, here he was. MeepleCare. He gathered his materials in a loose pile, as many as he could grab in just a few minutes. 

When one of those little white round things (with limbs and a silvery Meeple logo where their face should be) arrived he knew his time was up. 

Deep breath in. 

And out.

The next place he appeared was Cobs’ office. Just on the other side of the desk, in that chair, was the person he had the least regard out of anyone he'd ever met. 

“Hello, Steve.” He said, dropping the invisibility as he did so. 

Cobs’ chair whirled around, and he caught a startled look for just a moment. He quickly slid his standard calm over everything, hands meeting each other as he leaned forward on his desk. “MePad Mini! What an unusual surprise. Last time you came around, you didn't even bother to visit.”

“Last time, I had no business with you. Now, I do.” He said, and pulled one matchstick out of his bowtie. “I'm here to kill you.”

Cobs’ expression tightened, “Is that so?”

“It is. Unless you give me the information I want.” He held it up, for Cobs to see.

He snorted, “A match? I knew you were sheltered, but, let me give you a hint. That won't kill me.”

“I want to know where I can find Mister Toilet.” He said, “Will you tell me?”

“Oh, shoot, if you ask so nicely?” Cobs rolled his eyes, “He's not a prisoner, you know, just an employee. You've inherited 4’s drama, haven't you? And over something so small.”

This was getting tiresome as well. He struck the match and dropped it on one of his stolen goods. This was a situation where hands would be helpful, he thought as he picked up the lithium ion battery and threw it as hard as he could towards Cobs.

He dodged it narrowly, but it still exploded as it collided with his monitors, sending shrapnel at Cobs’ back. 

His eyes widened and he, finally realizing that MePad meant business, scrambled out of his chair. “Get away from me!” He screeched, and MePad felt a rush having managed to unsettle this man. 

“Where is Mister Toilet?” He asked, this time reaching for a pushpin. In one fluid motion, he stabbed it down into one of his stockpiled batteries and lifted it to, again, throw at him. 

This one took a moment longer, hissing and emitting a small trail of noxious gas before it quickly caught ablaze. This one skimmed Cobs as it went, and he started tamping down on his husk as soon as his mind caught up to the fact it was on fire. 

MePad teleported himself and his, frankly, exorbitant pile of batteries backwards a few steps as Cobs fell forward with the force of another explosion. 

“What happened to you?! You used to be so reasonable on the show!” Cobs exclaimed, which wasn't an answer to his question, so MePad slid to him another punctured battery. “This isn't even that big of a deal!” 

This one, Cobs kicked away, but it still singed his foot. He yelped, and turned his gaze back on MePad. “That does it.”

He pulled out his switchblade, which cemented that, yes he did just have that on him at all times. 

They settled into a dance of slashing and throwing that was quickly disheveling Cobs’ pristine office. Cobs got better at ducking and kicking the bombs away, a couple of them ended up dangerously close to MePad.

Eventually they ended up further from each other than they'd started, both waiting for their opponent’s next move.

They were both singed and exhausted, panting and staring each other down. Cobs was poised to spring, MePad had yet another match, ready to strike. 

Then the door was kicked open.

“MePad?!” Suitcase exclaimed, and he made the mistake of turning to look at her. He must be in pretty bad shape, Knife-

MePad was run through.

The angle was novel, he was sure that different parts of him were skewered than last time. The pain was the same. The way it overwhelmed him, the way his systems screamed at him, the feeling of his breath stopping, the way his awareness of time slowed. Familiar, horribly familiar. 

Some things were different this time, though. For one, instead of the grass behind him, it was what was left of his battery pile. When his legs failed to keep him up, he was still holding a match. He struck it and let it fall beside him on the carpet, his other leg grabbing hold of something more wretched. Steve's ankle.

He gazed impassively at his Creator as he kicked him, stabbed him again, yelled and screamed.

It hurt, sure. None of it mattered. The match lit the carpet, the carpet would light the bombs, and his own lithium ion battery would only make the blast more spectacular. 

His own death was inevitable, it was only right Cobs should go down with the ship.

The last thought he had, as his vision started to darken, was that he probably should've told Knife and Suitcase to run. 

He felt-!

And then he woke up.

Chapter Text

All he could hear was the explosion. All he could see was fire. 

One good thing about death by bomb was that he had no time to linger on it, in the moment. Unfortunately, the fact he came back still feeling it-

Any one of those injuries would've been deadly.

He lay on the floor, face-down to block the light. No more explosions. Stop getting stabbed. Don't make plans that contestants can get caught up in. 

(It was satisfying to know Cobs died. He didn't regret that part. The concept Suitcase and Knife might've been standing too close to the blast-)

He didn't move from this position until the pain (all over, every part of himself, two holes he wasn't supposed to have, the feeling of being torn asunder by something within your own self-) faded to just a memory. 

At that point he stood up and begrudgingly trudged to the elevator. Even if he did something dumb like thinking he could kill someone with projectiles and no arms, MePad still had a job to do. 

He needed to stop being so irrational. Sure, revenge was an understandable goal. But, many loops spent exploring HQ in the time he had before Cobs caught wind and deactivated him were more reasonable than spending a loop thinking he could get relevant information out of that man. That horrible, prideful man. 

Despite the fact that his body was back to normal, he dragged his feet with every step. How had he thought this could be the afterlife? If people compared death to anything, it was rest. MePad was not resting.

He became aware of his surroundings again at the party’s entrance. Yup, full swing. Happy people, drinking flavored beverages, unaware of the situation. 

(Thinking about it, he was glad nobody else remembered. This was a painful experience. While it would be useful to have others that understood, once everyone was out of here… It would be good that they could quickly and easily move on from this day.)

He walked over to Mic, who was currently standing with The Cherries. 

“Oh, hey, MePad.” She smiled at him, though it looked a little strained. “Are you, uh, doing okay?”

“Yeah,” The Cherries piped in, “You look down! What's wrong?”

Should he lie? No, the truth was fine. “Just, please tell everyone that if they see a red MePhone with an X for a face…” He sighed, this was what the intercom was for. He should've just teleported to it, but he really didn't want to. “It's piloted by Mister Toilet. Talk to him and you'll be fine. If he wants to speak to me, I'll be… around.”

“You want me to tell everyone?” Mic raised an eyebrow. 

“I don't feel like yelling.”

“Ah, no, gotcha.” She shared a glance with the more expressive Cherry, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“We're very good listeners.” Said the left Cherry, as the right one nodded.

“No thank you. Perhaps another loop.”

With that, he walked away. Technically, he could teleport out of here. He knew it would be faster. He didn't want to. 

MePad stepped outside, closing the door behind him. He was surprised when it opened again immediately after. 

“MePad! Meeperooni! MePers!” It was Lightbulb, "What's got you down?"

He blinked at her. Lightbulb was a unique case in that she already knew part of what was going on today. She'd seen Pickle's body. And yet, she wasn't curled up in a dark corner. "How do you stay so positive? Today is terrible and yet, you're smiling at me."

"Oh, this ol' thing?" She poked a cheek, "Ah, it's easy. If something's getting you down... Stop thinking about it and eventually, it'll work itself out."

That could not possibly be right. "Everyone is in danger."

"Pah, yeah, who isn't these days?" She exaggerated a shrug. "But if we spend the whole time screaming, how's life gonna have meaning?"

He found himself again blinking at her. “Miss Lightbulb, would you please extrapolate on that statement?”

“Nah, my face is this smooth on its own.”

What? “We appear to be talking past one another. I'll ask again. Lightbulb, I find myself…” Incompetent? Impulsive? “Not at my best, due to the situation we're in.”

“Because you're letting it get to you! If it wants to get you, it's gotta come to you first. Capiche?”

That wasn't any clearer than anything else she said, but he was starting to understand. “You're saying that worrying about the future is pointless, and that I should use my energy in other ways in the meantime?”

“You got it!” She made finger guns at him.

“Unfortunately, I think my particular case makes that impossible. All I have is today.” And, things hadn't been working out on their own so far. 

She frowned at him. 

“Ah, there's no harm in explaining. I have found myself trapped in a time loop, and-”

“Oh! You need to set your out of office message!” She exclaimed. 

Wait a minute. “You've said that before.” In Test Tube’s lab, the time he'd gotten buried alive. He'd dismissed it as nonsense, then. “What does it mean?”

“Well, I was watching this movie with my buddy Fan, and this guy was living the same day over and over! But it sucked, because none of his friends listened about it.” She pat MePad’s side, “So if anybody ever tells me they're time confused I'm ready.”

He raised an eyebrow, “So, you say that I need to set my out of office message?”

“You could say it, too! What matters is that the other guy knows to say yup, looks like I'm in for a long weekend.”

A call and response. Interesting. “Fan has a similar system in place.”

“Great minds think alike!”

“But fools rarely differ.” MePad replied, automatically. 

“Yeah I am a bit of a clown.” She agreed with a nod. 

They looked at each other for a long moment. 

“Keep it positive, champ! Back to Baseball, he’s probably freaking by now!” She opened the door, “See you el-eight-er, MePal.” 

He only caught a glimpse of the party as she stepped inside, but nobody was screaming yet, so it was probably fine. 

Lightbulb’s advice wasn’t super helpful. Ignoring your problems only worked when they could possibly go away. Everything he was dealing with today was determined to keep itself relevant with whatever means necessary.

That said, getting advice from others who were more put together wasn’t a bad idea. 

He started walking to his next destination. 

Purgatory Mansion didn't change. 

That was a ridiculous statement. Nothing changed right now. 

He just meant it was as large and imposing as it had always been. While Hotel OJ went for a very standard look, and MeCloud attempted to be both dazzling and corporate, Purgatory Mansion was made to be cartoonishly off-putting. Truly, it looped back around to charming. 

All of these buildings were heavy on windows. He was sure he could blame MePhone's subconscious for that one. 

He entered. 

The front entrance was the same as it had been… Last loop? No, he'd done terrorism. The loop before. He'd brought contestants here and wandered off, and spent the rest of the time with Toilet. 

… No, wait, one before that. Before terrorism he'd been captured. It was starting to be difficult to keep everything in order. Lots of different things happened, but it was all the same day. 

“So, like, why are you here?” Someone asked, and he turned to look.

“Oh, Mister Dough.” He had a hand on his hip, and his eyebrow was pointedly raised. “I wished to have a conversation with Miss Marshmallow.”

“Ah, yeah, whatever. Nobody's ever here to visit me.” He took in a deep breath and let out the longest groan MePad had ever heard. 

“Apologies, it's nice to see you as well?” He really hadn't talked to Dough before his… untimely demise. He was in a similar boat with Tissues, who'd been eliminated the same day MePad had joined the show. “Have you been doing anything fun, recently?”

“No no, I get it.” Dough rolled his eyes, “Nobody understands my charms. Follow me.”

He started (slowly) floating in a direction, so MePad followed. He drifted through walls, but they were always adjacent to doorways. So, luckily, he didn't lose him. Very soon MePad heard the sound of an unfamiliar voice backed with funky instrumental music. A television show. 

“Marsh, visitor.” Dough grumbled and phased through the floor. Did the Mansion have a basement? 

The room he'd been led to contained an old, squarish TV set surrounded by expensive-looking furniture. 

Marshmallow herself was in a chair that, frankly, made her seem minuscule. The back was swooping and ornate, she could probably sit there on Apple's head and not have to worry about falling backwards.

"MePad?" She asked, turning to see him better. Her hand clicked the remote a couple times and the volume lowered. "Welcome, I guess?"

"Thank you, I suppose." He surveyed the furniture and found that he could in fact fit on the couch, and so he took up residence.

"Okay?" The TV was just a whisper, now. The picture was of large pieces of industrial machinery doing... Something? Bending pieces of metal, perhaps. "Sorry, I mean, we don't exactly get a lot of visitors. It's okay that you're here."

That was about to change. The visitors, hopefully not his being welcome. "I apologize for interrupting you, since you left I have not wanted to be a bother."

"Oh, thanks. It's nice having privacy." He tore his gaze from the television to look at Marshmallow, right as she laughed, "Well, as much privacy as you can get with three roommates."

"Have they been treating you well?"

"Yeah. It's not always easy, but it's good."

He was truly glad. Letting her go without telling MePhone was the first thing he'd done rebelliously. Everything before that had been him following rules to the best of his ability. 

He wondered if Taco knew he'd done it. She'd come to a similar conclusion, though her idea was that everyone should quit. He wondered how today might've went if the remaining contestants had all listened. Would he and MePhone have gone to confront Cobs instead?

If the show had ended early, due to a lack of participants... Well. All of that was before the loop. It was out of his control.

Back to what he had say in.

"I was wondering if you might give me some advice." MePad broke the silence, "But, a bit of warning, I am not acting entirely... Rationally."

She clicked a button on the remote, and subtitles appeared. "Quit your job."

"What?" First off, he already had, not that she knew it. But, second, "I have yet to tell you a single detail of my predicament."

"I was on Inanimate Insanity long enough to know that the problem is probably MePhone." She shrugged.

"Unfortunately it is a bit... Bigger than that." Should he dance around it? Or should he be blunt? "I am experiencing a time loop."

Her gaze met his, and she subtly narrowed her eyes as though trying to tell if he was joking.

"Everyone is going to die and instead of figuring out how to fix it, I spent the previous loop attempting to kill someone." Which was satisfying and felt right at the time, but it wasn't very productive. "Also I already resigned."

Her expression had changed from doubtful to thoroughly concerned. "Who were you, uh, trying to kill?"

He should've danced around it. "Steve Cobs. He killed Toilet. I did not appreciate that."

"Are you feeling okay? It's alright to ask for help when you need it."

"I am asking for help. I keep doing irrational things. You have a solid head on your shoulders, how do I-"

"From a professional." She frowned at him, "I'm here if you need to talk, obviously, but have you seen a professional?"

This may be an issue with seeking out reasonable people. His situation sounded absurd. "I have spoken to Test Tube, she believes me."

Marshmallow sighed and rubbed at her forehead. She mumbled something he couldn't make out, then replied, "So you're feeling murderous because your friend was hurt. That's probably normal, MePad."

"I do not experience feelings in the traditional sense. Mine are muted, artificial emotions that do not usually give me trouble." Or, they hadn't. They shouldn't be. He was made hollow so that someone else's dreams could be executed through him. "I should not be making plans that make no sense, I should not be putting others I care about in danger, and I should not be struggling so much with- This."

"Okay, MePad. Let's take a step back. Maybe you're right and your feelings are small." She made a pinching gesture, "But death brings big feelings for anyone. So even if yours are small emotions, anger over the death of others..." She made an L shape, pointer and thumb as far as they could go, "Would proportionally still be pretty big."

Ah. "I can see your point. But, since I am the only one who remembers what happened in the previous iterations of today, it is my duty to fix everything. I cannot afford to let emotions put people in danger."

"You quit your job, and started feeling aimless, right?" She gave him a gentle, sympathetic smile that was not helping. "So you've constructed a reality for yourself where you're the key to everything. Isn't that exhausting?"

Marshmallow still didn't believe him. "It is. If I could make it stop, I would." Ideally with a happy ending for Toilet, the Contestants, MePhone4, 3GS, and Mecintosh. “And, I understand your hesitance, but I am truly experiencing this day over and over.”

She tilted her head a little, and hummed. "You wanted my advice. I say, watch How It's Made with me."

He wanted to keep arguing, but what was there to say? Should his goal be to convince her? It was possible that even if she did believe him, her answer could be the same. He turned his attention to the show, already contemplating who else he could ask.

Mic said to let loose. Lightbulb said to not worry. Marshmallow wanted him to ignore it. None of these felt like the right thing to do in this very serious situation.

But these were people he trusted. He respected them all. Did their suggestions have merit? 

Perhaps he could try to relax this loop, if he made sure to keep everyone as safe as possible. Pleasing those he cared about didn't matter, technically. But, he wanted to hear them out. 

Toilet wasn't a threat anymore, he just needed to be prepared for the arrival of Cobs. That wasn't for several hours. It would be fine.

Even now, he knew it wouldn't work out like that. He'd try, but he'd mess the confrontation up, and get even less efficient. He took a hit properly that first time. With him there, nobody should have been- 

(It was his fault, and he couldn't let it happen again.)

Marshmallow turned the volume back up.

... It hadn't occurred to him how many different specialized machines one would need to construct a ladle.

He'd leave after this episode. 

They were in the middle of the segment on rowing paddles when it happened.

Marshmallow glanced at MePad, then did a double take, gasped, and hopped out of her chair to face the doorway.

He felt himself stiffen. Marshmallow was supposed one of the survivors.

She threw her remote, and he turned just in time to watch it thunk against nothing. A moment later, MePhoneX was visible and rubbing its head. "What was that for?!" Said Toilet's voice, and MePad relaxed back into his seat.

Oh thank goodness. "It is alright, Miss Marshmallow."

"There's a New MePhone in MY HOUSE!" She yelled, and he at once remembered that she had been there when the confrontation with MePhone5 had killed Bow. Permanently.

Anger over someone's death was a big emotion, she'd said so herself. He hoped up, "You're right, we shall go outside. Apologies for the inconvenience, and I thank you for the advice."

"Splendid!" MePhoneX clasped its hands together, "Mic-rae-phone thought I should be talking to you. She was worried!"

He approached, and tried to keep himself from speculating again which of those limbs it was. "I will admit, I am a bit... Off balanced. I have been concerned for your well-being. Cobs has tricked you, this is not a simulator but reality. When you deactivate a contestant they die-"

Toilet and Marshmallow gasped and started yelling in unison.

He teleported them outside. In fact, he teleported them about as far as they could go and still be on solid ground.

Or, under it. There was something about the cave that seemed especially secure. Part of it was the fact it would persist even when everything else was gone. But, beyond that. It had kept him safe from the rain, when he was downloading updates. 

He and MePhoneX reappeared deep within, and he felt as his legs got a little less stiff. “Apologies, I have been putting off teleporting today, due to how much I used that ability last time.”

Toilet didn't say anything back. MePhoneX stood as still as a statue.

“Toilet?” 

No response. 

He felt silly, all of the sudden. Toilet wasn’t contained within MePhoneX. He knew this. “He controls you via a wireless signal. The rock must be insulating us.” 

He turned away from MePhoneX and flicked airplane mode off. Sure enough, he wasn't finding anything to connect to. Zero bars. 

He… Wanted to talk to Toilet more. But, he'd gotten the basics across, hadn't he? If he brought MePhoneX back outside, Cobs could take control of it again later. Unfortunate timing, but for the best. 

“Stay here.” He said and teleported back to the mansion. Or, outside of it, he wasn't confident enough in its layout to go to a specific room. 

It was all well and good, because the front door was open and people were gathered in the foyer. Paintbrush, Fan, and Test Tube stood conversing with the Purgatory Mansion crew.

Marshmallow turned to him as he entered. "What was all that?"

"Not to worry, MePhoneX is out of play for the rest of this loop." Wait, right, she didn't believe him. Try again. "No one shall die today." That was worse.

Now everyone was looking at him. He knew one way to make this slightly better. "Fan, Space Allegories Season 4 Episode 11."

He lit up, "Wait, seriously?! How many times so far? Do I remember them?!” He smacked his own face, “No, duh, I don't. I'd remember if I remembered.”

Paintbrush raised their hand, “So I-”

Fan kept going, “Why didn't you tell me sooner? Unless right now is when it starts! But when does it end? Do we know the catalyst?!”

“What's catalyst mean?” Asked Apple.

He pulled up his dictionary, but Mirriam-Webster’s definition was a bit obtuse. “It is a way to refer to something that causes another thing. For instance, Marshmallow’s guilt over Bow’s death was the catalyst for her leaving the show.”

Bow hovered closer to Marshmallow, “Aww, you felt guilty? That's so cute!”

“I already told you about that?” Said Marshmallow.

“Excuse me, I don't know what the matter at hand is but I think we should refocus on it!” Said Test Tube, waving her tracking device around. “MePad! What's the matter at hand?”

“Time loop. No need to worry, however. The only looming dangers are from Steve Cobs, who still has the ability to unplug MeLife whenever he wishes. Otherwise, we are safe.” 

This didn't reassure anyone. Understandably.

After explaining everything (MePhone created you, not on purpose, yes he should've told you. Cobs wants MePhone4 back for his powers, no I don't know where they come from. Etc, etc.) everyone started brainstorming. 

Fan had an interesting theory about the Shimmers that MePad remembered vaguely being referred to in the original iteration of today. (He'd also brought it up in passing, when the contestants called MePhone in the cave.) Marshmallow still didn't seem to believe him, but she was going along with everyone else. Paintbrush was visibly unsettled. Apple and Dough were holding a separate (loud) conversation about decor, for some reason. 

Eventually, though, things settled into their usual order. Apple and Bow went to help, this time borrowing his own bowtie. Suitcase and Knife still wanted to pull the plug, to prevent Cobs from using his weapons on the Shimmers. To take from him the ability to threaten any of them.

He briefly contemplated going to Test Tube's lab again, so he could be buried. He talked himself out of it. 

MePad instead spent the last moments with MeLife finding MePhone4. It became significantly easier when the hotel disappeared and all that was left was him, staring down at his own hands. 

“Sir, I apologize, I forgot to-”

“MePad!” He came running, each hand grabbing one of his sides, “Where- What-”

He looked down at MePhone and his wide, wide eyes. With his trembling arms. With his look of desperation and confusion. 

MePad had gotten very little done today. And, now, it was the time for someone to die. 

He could try to fight Cobs off. Somehow, he'd failed even with preparation and explosives. Toilet was surely laying injured in the grass. MePhone would be easily overpowered, as distraught as he was. MePad didn't have his bowtie. Dough and Bow could help, but-

He didn't want to fight. It was as simple as that.

“We should find Mister Toilet.” Was all he said, and he started scanning their surroundings. His eyes caught on a puff of dust over by the cliff's edge, no doubt stirred by the force of his impact. 

He teleported himself and MePhone to it and, sure enough, there he was. 

MePhone let go of him to rush over to Toilet's side. MePad just stared.

Scuffed up. In pain. Cradled by the dirt. He watched as MePhone took either side of Toilet’s face in his hands, and the words they shared washed over him as though in a different language. 

It was time for someone to die. MePhone, who had just lost everything. Toilet, who had a past and a future. MePad, who didn't want to watch either one of them be hurt. 

And then he gazed beyond the rocky precipice into the ocean. 

He wasn't sure how loudly he said it, and if it was for his own sake or theirs. “I am truly glad to have met you both. You have enriched my life.”

MePhone said something back. 

“See you again soon.” MePad jumped. 

The falling wasn't so bad, it reminded him of when he'd recently missed when trying to land in the contestants’ hot air balloon. It reminded him of talking with Toilet, of telling him they were equals. 

The cold shock of the water, he was a little less prepared for. His legs stiffened straight out on impact. He may have landed on his ankle wrong. Luckily, it wouldn't matter for very long.

The ocean embraced him as the soil did, all encompassing. Dirt, however, didn't seep inside. It didn't become a part of him. 

He closed his eyes and sunk, and leaked, and let himself become debris. Not flotsam, but jetsam. 

And then he woke up.

Chapter Text

MePad gave himself a moment to let the sensations fade. It didn't feel exactly like the first time he'd drowned, somehow. 

Maybe a different system had given out first? The issue with being submerged was the conductivity of water. Anything could've gotten zapped.

He hoped he wouldn't come out of this experience with too much information about how dying felt, but so far water was the least painful. It was fast, for one, but not quite so overwhelming as a bomb. Good to know, bad to learn.

Enough of that, much to do. Taco, Soap, party- No, no. Intercom. 

He teleported down to the front desk and pressed the button, speakers dutifully crackling to life. He intended to follow the finalists this loop, so time was of the essence.

“Hello, everyone, this is MePad speaking. Mister Toilet, please stop deactivating contestants. This is not a training simulator, they do not like it. MePhone4, Miss Taco, please proceed to the party and consider connecting with others. Or, at least, enjoy the day outside. It is a very pleasant temperature.”

What else? If this was his last message, because it very well could be, what would he want everyone to know? 

Oh, right, “Miss Taco, thank you for opening up to me, I hope you will not be too offended that I consider you a friend. MePhone4, thank you for giving me a chance at life, though we disagree on current issues. Toilet, you are one of the most important people in my life and I cherish every moment we've spent together. I am proud of every one of you. Now I shall attempt to infiltrate-” No, that wasn't important for them to know. “Actually, that does not matter. Please enjoy what time you all have with each other, as no future moment is guaranteed. That is all.”

He was pushing it a little, his most natural state was verbose, but as always time was of the essence. 

MePad teleported outside into the balloon’s shadow and found, as always, Suitcase and Knife. He got a ride with them, stating that he "had his own mission." They had declared that was pretty vague, but they wished him luck. 

MeCloud was huge. Honestly, he was starting to be concerned part of the issue was he wasn't very familiar with buildings. But, then again, most buildings did not contain flying boats so he was fairly sure it wasn't common knowledge where they would be stored.

He ran through the halls, uncaring of the noise he made. It was, for the most part, buried under the too-short soundtrack loop. 

He found a lot of things, but none of them were Toilet. Identical hallways, identical offices. Different views of the sky through exterior windows. The mailroom. 

He wasn't sure if he was found earlier this time or if it just all blurred together. He started teleporting around, but that didn't keep the white things away. They were numerous, and he was starting to wonder what they were.

He was caught, slammed forward by the force of one tackling him. Power button held, like a rag of chloroform. 

Reboot it was.

And then he woke up.

At first, he didn’t understand what was going on. He was cold, his surroundings were dark, and he was groggy. But, then, he saw the mostly extension cords box and he remembered. Junk closet.

And then, of course, he felt it in his headphone port. It being the insidious little plug that kept him both from speaking and teleporting. It was more irritating than he remembered it being, which was impressive because he hadn’t remembered it fondly.

He tried to ignore it. He was back here, there wasn’t an easy way out. He might as well make the best of it. 

He scanned the room to find- Ah, there he was. Against the back wall, wringing his hands. 3GS startled as MePad looked at him, then stood up and rushed over. “Hello! You- You’re functional!”

MePad nodded as 3GS settled down across from him, within arms reach of Mecintosh.

“It’s been so long since he’s-” A burst of static, “It’s so nice to meet you! I’m MePhone3GS, and this is Mecintosh.” He once again patted his top, and Mecintosh’s screen bliped on.

He had to remind himself that replying aloud was useless. MePad placed his face on a lower layer and pulled up a text box. “I am MePad.”

Mecintosh raised an eyebrow. 3GS stared back blankly for a few seconds, then broke out into a grin, “Fantastic! It’s been so long since-!” Static again. “MePad. I like that name.”

He was about to display a new message when Mecintosh said, “Why are you here? You don’t look broken.”

3GS frowned.

“You do not look broken, either.” He replied.

“Yeah, well, I’m old as.” He paused for a moment, “Rhythm of the Night. Ish. Younger than Total Eclipse of the Heart, but not by much.”

Huh? He had no context as to what that meant.

But, Mecintosh had asked a question. It was most polite to answer.

This time he wasn’t quite junk yet, so the reason he was with them… “I was an obstacle, and so I am here.” He intended to be an obstacle again later, but for now he wanted to know more about these two.

“An-” MePhone3GS leaned away from him, visibly frightened, “You tried to stand up against-?” A burst of static, he shook himself, “How are you alive?”

“I’m not a very effective obstacle.” He’d quickly wrote another line, “Tell me about yourself.”

3GS dissolved into static, shook himself, and then fell back into it. 

“Are you alright?” MePad displayed. He knew that the answer was no, but-

“He’s fine. He just hasn’t accepted his role as a cog in the hateful machine we all live in.” Macintosh rolled his eyes, “I’m fine with it.”

MePad’s attention flicked back to 3GS, who was covering his eyes with his hands, arms trembling. “I hear you when you cry.”

“You too, buddy.” Macintosh’s eyes met his own, “All you need to know about me is when to leave me alone.” His screen flicked back off.

… One weakness of communicating silently is that if they were both not looking at him, he didn’t have a way around that. Or, not one he'd thought of.

He watched as 3GS sat there, face in his hands, and breathed. It was loud, like he’d been running. 

What had he done that he regretted so thoroughly? Was it just working for Cobs? He could understand that, but… He knew things about MePhone4’s life here. He’d been tasked with creating. Did 3GS have that power too? 

Finally, he lowered his hands and looked back up at MePad. “Sorry. This isn’t a great first impression.” 

He tried to put gentleness into his expression, “That’s alright.” Last time, he’d been more pathetic himself. He was panicking, cracked, muted, and zapped. “I just want to know more about you.”

3GS shook his head and diverted his gaze, “There’s not anything good to know. I lead my comrades-” Static. “I took-” Someone else’s voice, “Our youth!-”

Took their youth…? What could that possibly mean? He brightened his screen and dimmed it again, to try to get his attention. It worked. “What did you take?”

3GS shrunk in on himself, “I just told those- researchers about this. They’re-” He started tearing up, “I hope they run.”

Suitcase and Knife. MePad felt a shiver run through him, only partially due to the cold. He knew they wouldn’t run. They'd be captured and forced to, and he'd been reminded of this having just been with the others when they learned, fight to the death. 

He was also aware of the fact that if he'd ever been able to focus on their conversation with 3GS he'd understand what, exactly, he'd done. So, it was his own fault he was at a loss now. 

“I am sure they'll be fine.” He finally displayed. And, it wasn't a total lie. He would make sure that they turned out fine. MePad's mission was to end these loops with a happy ending. For them, too.

3GS just sighed. 

Change the subject. “Do you know very much about Mecintosh’s past?” It was impolite to ask when he was right there, but also he was blatantly ignoring them, so it'd probably be fine.

“It's probably a familiar tale.” 3GS smiled sadly, wringing his hands again. “You are created top of the line, your predecessors greet you warmly. Then, one day-”

Mecintosh’s face turned back on, “Hey! I'm not bringing up your baggage.”

“The same thing happened to me.” He argued, holding up his hands. “Maybe I'm talking about myself!”

“Yeah, well, MePad hasn't erased his screen.” He bit back. 

Oh, right, oops. He did that now, “My life has been perhaps different from the average Meeple, but that… Still applies to me.”

Technically, MePhone4 wasn't his direct predecessor. Also, he died and was revived before MePad even booted up. Though, he had died again since the loops started. Preventing that sticking did drive his current actions. 

Yes, he could relate.

Mecintosh scowled. “Welcome to the club. Everybody dies all the time, and yet nobody's put me out of my misery.”

“You have so much to live for!” MePad objected before he could really think it through. 

“I live in a closet, reading old encyclopedias so I don't go insane. Try again.”

“Team, every mission has its hitches, but-”

“You're capable of leaving. You know that? I can hover, like, an inch. You have legs. And yet, because Steve left you here, you live here!”

3GS dissolved into static.

“Don't give me that! I've been nice for a decade-”

“You're-” bzzt “Never been nice!”

Mecintosh huffed an angry breath. “I haven't been telling you how foolish you are! I should! He's never going to come back for you.” 

“Well-! You're not going to learn anything here you haven't already!” 3GS bit back.

“I know!” 

They both turned away from each other, and MePad felt like he really shouldn't be here for this. He hadn't meant to break (apparently) a decade of tension. But, if one question had brought them to yelling, it might've been inevitable.

He also didn’t want to be yelled at today, so he sat very still and hoped neither of them remembered that he technically instigated. 

Mecintosh turned his screen back off. MePhone3GS gazed at the door. MePad did his best not to look directly at either of them. 

He learned one thing, this time. They did both have people they cared about. But, unfortunately, his guess was right. They lost their loved ones, and fell into despondency. 

MePad didn’t know much about grief, luckily. He had seen Dough’s death, though it had not moved him. He supposed he was gaining more experience in this area, what with watching MePhone take a knife for him, hearing Toilet shatter, and witnessing contestant after contestant be deactivated. Those experiences were likely closer to average than the nonchalant entrance and exit of Dough from everyone’s lives. (They probably should’ve been sadder about Dough?) 

That wasn’t the point. Clearly, these two steeped themselves in their loss, which was not healthy. MePad could understand them both, though. They both had the opportunity to hide away somewhere until their pain faded. If his own situation wasn’t pushing him to action, he would find the same option appealing. 

But that wasn’t how it worked, was it? Hiding didn’t make it go away. It just meant you missed… Everything else.

What would 3GS’ life have been like if, when MePhone4 walked into this closet, they ran back out together? It was in the past, the far past where he could not touch. Hypotheticals meant nothing in the face of reality. But, it was so easy to imagine waking up for the very first time to multiple smiling faces instead of just one. 

He wondered, not for the first time, if he would’ve gotten along with the Original MePad. He wondered if anyone at all still remembered their voice. 

Eventually, and it was a fairly long eventually, 3GS did turn back to him and say, “I apologize, that wasn’t the kind of conversation I’d-” This time, he paused in the middle of his sentence with zero visual glitches. It was actually a bit odd. Every other time, it was at least accompanied by a twitch. “Welcome to the team. It’s not the winning one, but you’re here.” 

“It’s alright.” He displayed. “I brought up baggage. It is reasonable that you opened it up.”

3GS smiled back at him. “Your reassurance is appreciated.” 

“I could tell you more about myself, so that it is not so one-sided.” Two-sided? 

“I would like that.”

Well, he’d offered, what was there to say? “My name is MePad. I recently quit my job.” What else… Did he want to bring up the time loop? “I worked on a reality tv show.”

3GS blinked, and his face scrunched up a little. “That sounds… Pleasant?”

“It could be. I made several friends.” MePad displayed.

“Neat.” He said. 

Hm. “You have no way to relate to me in this instance, since a life on the outside beyond ‘missions’ is foreign to you.”

3GS jolted, “I mean- How did you-?”

“It was easy enough to guess.” How much leisure time did one of Cobs’ creations get? He saw MePhone4’s memories, sure, but those were disconnected. He presumed that, like 4, 3GS had times where he wasn’t technically doing anything, but he was expected to be on call at any time.

… MePad’s life had been similar, actually. He had off time, but aside from the island, there wasn’t anywhere he could go. Interesting, the way things reflected and refracted, every so slightly different in every iteration.

“Also if you had somewhere else to go, you’d be there.”

3GS’s expression got tight.

“Should I stop psychoanalyzing you? Apologies, it is a default for me.”

He nodded back. 

“There isn’t much to me, outside of my job.” His former job. “I do not have hobbies, or dreams. I was not built as spirited as you.”

“My friend, you’re,” He paused, snapping a few times. “That’s about me again.”

Oh, yeah, he was right. “Again, apologies! It was a poor topic for conversation.”

They lapsed into silence or, in MePad’s case, text-blankness. An involuntary-looking jolt ran through 3GS, but he sighed and relaxed back into a slump.

Eventually, he spoke back up. “I don’t feel very spirited, comrade.”

“But look at yourself. You have the capacity for great pain, sure, but that is just a sign of your inner depth.” MePad tilted himself nonchalantly, something he did when others would shrug, “I was made just to assist others, though I have free will I don’t have much… Self determination.”

3GS sighed, "More of a follower than a-" More static, "Leader?"

"That is a good way to put it." MePad's place was backing people up. Taco and MePhone4 had ideals. They had drive.

... It was easy to see where he would've clicked in here at MeCloud.

"The responsibility-" Another shiver, "It's not all it's cracked up to be."

He supposed it wasn't. He was currently getting a taste of holding others' fates in his metaphorical hands, and it was terrible.

But, again, despite the fact Mecintosh and 3GS didn't feel like they had anything left to live for, they kept going. If time hadn't started playing a trick on him, he would be just another pawn, used up and discarded. This is a conversation that never should've happened.

MePhone4, 3GS, Mecintosh. And MePad. Adjacent, but separate.

He brought his attention back to 3GS, who was fidgeting and staring off into space. MePad had been kind of thoughtless so far, hadn't he? Asking tough questions, being honest about his own shortcomings, causing an argument. He was skilled in de-escalation, or at least he wanted to believe he was.

If he had access to sounds, he'd play for him a waterfall. Would it have the same effect with just the visuals? It couldn't hurt.

He flicked off airplane mode and was instantly dosed with electricity. He stiffened up involuntarily, screen banging against the shelving behind him.

The seconds it took to put two and two together were agony. It didn't stop.

He felt hot, and scared, and helpless, mind flitting from thought to thought, of running, of banging himself against something, of yelling, each one useless to make it stop.

Until he realized, and flicked airplane mode back on.

He sagged with relief.

He felt dizzy and his entire top was numb. Awful. 

Another function of his new "accessory?" When he'd tried to teleport, it was one and done. Shocking, painful, but over just as quickly. This one had duration.

if (wirelessConnection == true){

zap();

}

He felt a hand on his side, gentle and warm. He heard a voice, but couldn't process it. He scrambled through his files to pull up a loading circle.

MePad sat and breathed and tried not to tremor too much, eyes squeezed shut, until he could stand to imagine conversation again.

Finally, he peeked one eye open and met 3GS' worried gaze.

"Am I that scary?" He asked.

MePad displayed, slower than he'd been typing before, "You do not scare. You concern."

"Ah." His other hand came to rest on MePad's knee, "What was that?"

"I am not allowed to connect to the Internet." He answered, honestly. "Ironically, I was hoping to pull up something soothing, to cheer you up."

He got a humorless laugh back, and a sigh. 3GS looked so... Sorrowful. So tired. "You are kind, and I'm... Sorry you're here."

"Me too." Chimed in Mecintosh, who he hadn't realized was looking at them. "I would've preferred somebody who was smart enough to-"

3GS whipped around, hands flinging up in exasperation. "We're having a moment."

Mecintosh rolled his eyes. "And I was trying to make a point. Unlike you newfangled mechanisms, I have physical media. Myst or Oregon Trail?"

3GS' shoulders drooped. "Oregon Trail."

MePad wasn't sure what was going on here, but he was sure it would be a good distraction.

It was.

Oregon Trail (he was told that there may be sequels, but they only had the first one) was a game about a fictional mass migration. In it, large groups traveled from one end of a continent to the other in the hopes of gaining “free land.” It laid bare the dangers people went through around 200 years ago, with death and disease being major themes. 

They kept making him make the decisions, which did inevitably lead to total failure as everyone in his party (all named after people he knew, at Mecintosh's insistence) perished less than halfway through. 

("Why must they be people I know?" He'd put on his screen when the game had ended with Toilet dying of a snake bite.

"It makes you take it more seriously." Mecintosh had answered.)

But, after just a little teasing, he'd started the game back up and MePad got to try again. He'd proceed to fail again, but in different ways. 

They were on the third runthrough when MePhone3GS got an alert. He paused narrating MePad's messages aloud, interrupted by a buzz and a notification sound. They all three widened their eyes in unison as they watched it pop up.

A little text bubble that said New Mission: Kill MePhone4. 

All was still. Somehow, MePad felt as though he was drowning.

Then, with a hand steadier than anything MePad could've managed, 3GS clicked on it and up came the MeepleMap app with a very familiar destination.

"You cannot seriously be considering this." Said Mecintosh.

3GS jolted, another full body tremor. His hand was raised to the top of his screen, between the two options. Clear and Start.

"No, seriously!" He shouted, "Kill MePhone4? You cannot tell me as soon as Cobs remembers you exist you're going to stoop to murder to impress him!"

3GS balled his fists and punched the Start button.

Mecintosh groaned, "I've been living with a murderer for a decade. Great. Love that. You know, 3 is less than 4, he's probably more powerful than you."

He brought his face back up, "Maybe I'm not going to help Cobs."

"Uh-huh." Mecintosh didn't sound convinced. "If you wanna join 1 and 3G, there are faster ways."

Ah, those must be the predecessors of 3GS. The ones that he woke up to. The ones he'd lost.

"I can confirm that killing MePhone4 has, thus far, had a 0% survival rate." MePad displayed, upping and lowering his brightness to catch their attention. 

He got it. They both looked baffled. 

"What?" Mecintosh asked.

"MePhones 4S, 5, 5S, 5C, and X all died for the purpose of Steve Cobs wanting to kill MePhone4." He wasn't sure if X was technically dead yet in this loop, but he knew it died when the boat vanished. So, it either was already or would be soon. "I know this because he was my boss. He is, in fact, a friend of mine."

Mecintosh could more actually be described now as "incredulous."

3GS glitched some, but shook it off and stood up. "No longer. I am going to help!" He declared and walked, no, marched over to the closet door. Then he tried to push it open and slumped a little.

"It appears that the strange mechanism that brought us MePad locked the door on its way out." He turned back to them, "Mecintosh, I must call on your assistance."

"Whatever you want, I'm not helping. Leaving and immediately dying is not what I meant earlier."

A burst of static. "Your mission: climb through the vents and unlock the door!"

"Yeah. Again. Not doing that."

"I can confirm that if we stay here, MePhone4 will perish by Cobs' hands." He displayed. Though, how could he convey his certainty without bringing up the time loops? "Cobs now carries a dagger at all times."

3GS pointed at MePad, "See? We commit to inaction no longer! We have the opportunity to save a life!"

One life, thirty, somewhere in that ballpark.

Once again, Mecintosh groaned. "You know I'm slow, right?"

"You also have 30 years of practice!"

Mecintosh started... Backing away? MePad didn't know how that was possible, seeing as he was on a shelf. But, once he was gone from view it was more obvious. There was some kind of exit behind him. 

Who actually built buildings with ventilation shafts that big?! 

Sure, it was too small for both him and 3GS, but clearly if Mecintosh fit they were dangerously large.

"MePad, you may not yet have my trust." 3GS started, and MePad turned to face him again, "But, if you follow me into battle-" 

Static. "You Will die." His voice sounded more distorted now than it had all afternoon. "This is something that I must do, but you-" 

"I would gladly join you." He wrote, "I'm a follower."

"Very well." 

He approached the door, sidling up next to 3GS. 

MePad was startled when something started touching his back, but as he didn't flinch, it didn't retreat. Then he recognized the warmth of an arm. 3GS was hugging him. 

They stood there together and he wondered if just one more set of hands would tip the scale. He wondered if 3GS, too, would die by that despicable dagger. 

There was a loud banging sound and the muffled voice of Mecintosh. "It's open!"

"That's our cue, compatriot." He pulled his hand back and opened the door. 

MePhone3GS stepped through the threshold, out of the shadow and into the light. 

And then he woke up.

Chapter Text

He wasn’t sure why he was surprised. He was currently in a time loop. And yet, he’d fully expected to follow 3GS down to Inanimate Island and give MePhone a hand. 

Metaphorically, of course.

MePad groaned, but halted part of the way through. He could make noises again! 

He laughed, just because he could. 

He felt the carpet under his feet, as scratchy and irritating as ever. But, he was lukewarm. It was amazing how sunny MeCloud was, and yet it always left him so cold. He was still laughing.

He stood for a moment and let himself appreciate the fact he wasn't stuck in that room forever. Deserve it or not, he got to try again. It wasn’t funny. The final giggle was chased quickly by a sigh, and he refocused on the familiar wall in front of him.

This time he was paying attention. 

He teleported into Pickle’s room. Taco jumped up from her spot on the bed, immediately going into a ready stance, and he realized he mostly walked into the room in other circumstances. 

He could spot the moment when she recognized him, it was followed by a marked change in posture from “danger” to “tired.”

She was so small. Of course, she always had been. He was large, those around him were small. But without the posturing she'd done when they'd first met, letting herself shrink under the weight of grief… she looked her size. He didn't like it. 

“Oh, MePad. You’re back early.”

“That I am.” What should he say? He hadn’t seen her in a couple loops. He wasn't even sure why he'd come in here. Just that he’d wanted to.

… He was neglecting his connections. Sure, he’d just learned more about 3GS and Mecintosh, but how many loops had he spent ignoring everyone to try and make progress? 

“Miss Taco, I was planning on infiltrating Meeple Headquarters. Would you like to come with me?”

She blinked once, opened her mouth, blinked again, and closed it. He didn’t move in the meantime. Finally, she settled on, “Are you sure?”

“I am going into the mouth of danger, and-”

“I’m more appetizing a bite, is that it?” She glanced at Pickle, but quickly averted her gaze again. “No, I think I need to take a break for a bit. Really… Soak it in.”

He remembered her body, lifeless in the water, jostled by his quickly escaping air bubbles. “Perhaps, if you do not feel up for a mission, you will instead consider contemplating this outside?” 

“By this you mean Pickle, and the imminent demise of everyone I know?” She gestured to him loosely, casually.

“Yes. I am doing my best to handle it, so you needn’t worry.” How many times had she spent here, by herself, stewing?

She scoffed, “Sure, right. Nothing to be concerned about.” An eye roll. “Fine, if you want to kick me out, I’ll go.” 

“Good, please put your mental health first in these turbulent times.” It was probably for the best that she turned him down. Taking her into danger wasn’t kind, even if having someone who knew how to shoot by his side would be reassuring. “I will see you again soon. I believe Miss Microphone wishes to speak to you.”

“Okay, MePad.” Somehow, she managed to pronounce his name as though it were a mild insult. “Goodb-”

He teleported away a tick too early. Oops. Like hanging the phone up while the other person is in the middle of saying something, it was awkward, but he couldn’t think of a solution that was much better. If he went back, she would already be done saying goodbye. They’d have to discuss what had happened, and then he’d leave again. What would be the point?

Oh well. He just had to hope she'd spend the day gently.

Intercom. “Hello, former contestants, MePhone4, Mister Toilet via MePhoneX. The most important part of my message, this is not a training simulator. This is real life, and you are being tricked. Contestants would not enjoy deactivation, so please cease. Hopefully I will soon find where you, my friend, reside and greet you in-person.”

“MePhone, I would recommend telling everyone their true nature, you will feel less guilt afterwards. Everyone else, please enjoy this wonderful day while you have the chance. The sunshine is not a luxury everyone has. I look forward to talking to all of you again soon.”

He teleported to the shadow of the hot air balloon. Knife and Suitcase. Knife, as always, startled. He jumped backwards, eyes widening, accidentally extinguishing his match with the motion.

“Hello, would you mind if I hitched a ride with you?” He asked and tried to really focus on this present moment. By not paying attention, he’d missed 3GS’ story. He didn’t want to make more similar mistakes.

It was interesting the way light reflected off Knife’s face, and he tracked it carefully as the man donned his nonchalance again. Though, it was Suitcase that said, “The more the merrier! But, uh, why do you want to?”

She opened the door for him, and he stepped inside. He focused on her straps, bright yellow against brown. He noted that it was a charming combination, which was a thought he’d had before. Maybe. “I have intel that Cobs may have a ship he’s planning to attack us with. I intend to find it. And disable it.”

She frowned, a reasonable reaction, “That sounds a whole lot like defeating him. You’re not trying to…” She trailed off, as though nervous to accuse him of anything. 

“Rest assured, it is just a way for me to act as backup. You both will deal with the man,” Or, they’d try. He’d capture them. He’d take them to the ship. Fight to the death. “But I am dealing with his tools.” 

“I guess that’s helpful.” Said Knife, and he noticed that the balloon was already lit. Suitcase threw their tether overboard, and off they went. “Just don’t get in our way.”

He flicked on his invisibility, then back off, to demonstrate his intentions. “That I can do. I wish you both luck.” 

“Thanks,” Said Suitcase, she shared with him a smile. “You know, it’ll be weird.”

She looked to Knife. “What?”

“Not having challenges anymore. The show took over my life a little, I- Well, I’m excited to make my own decisions again. But it’ll be weird, too.”

Knife turned to look at the sky, “I guess you’re right. I’m still trying to decide what I’m doing with the money.”

“You mean, you have not come up with a purpose for it?” MePad asked. 

“Nah, but a million dollars?” He whistled, “It’d sure be nice.”

“Haha, you know, I haven’t figured out what I’d use it for either.” Suitcase looked sheepish, “I guess that’s a little silly. I just want it, you know?”

They were dancing around the facts of their own existence without knowing it. Should he tell them? Would that cause them to freeze up? Break their spirits? Unlike the hotel residents who had a mostly free evening to work through this and contemplate the method of their creation and what (if anything) it meant, these two were about to go face to face with the worst person MePad could imagine.

Actually, had it been rude to suggest to MePhone earlier that he should tell everyone? Was stressing them out about something they couldn’t change impolite? It wasn’t as though knowing would do anything but cause them pain in the moment.

He realized he’d spaced out some right when he noticed they were looking at him funny.

“You doing okay, there?” Knife asked, awkwardly. “Champ?” 

“I am fine. I am simply pondering ethics. Not important.” He shook himself, “I suppose I could rope you in. I am nearing the end of my lifespan-”

“MePad, do you have something to tell us?” Suitcase asked, eyes wide.

“No, apologies, it is just that I am aging. I will likely break at some point soon, but I have no current condition that threatens-”

Knife shoved him, really more of a nudge. “Don’t start off by saying you’re dying.”

Right, yes, people didn’t like hearing about it. “The point is, I was thinking of the nature of my existence.” Only a small lie. They were all artificial beings here, though of course Suitcase and Knife were different. “And also of danger. For instance, do you think keeping the current situation from everyone at the Hotel is ethical?”

Knife shrugged, “What they don’t know can’t hurt em.”

Suitcase said, only a beat later, “But if they don’t know, and something happens, isn’t that kind of on us? Since they didn’t know how to prepare? Or that they needed to?”

“Panicking about something you can’t change doesn’t help.” He argued back.

“Ah, so in this particular debate, you Suitcase align yourself with Mister Baseball. Meanwhile, Knife is more similar to Miss Lightbulb.” MePad nodded to himself, but they both flinched. “They have started discussing this by now, I think.”

“Lightbulb just doesn’t want responsibility. Ever.” Knife argued, “I’m saying it’s better to die happy.”

Suitcase seemed to be studying the wicker basket. “I guess it makes sense I’m like Baseball. I spent enough time with him.” 

“Wait, how come you know their opinions on this?” Knife raised an eyebrow, “When did you have time to ask?”

Oh, right. “Well, Knife, you will not want to know. Suitcase, I will tell you the answer.”

He got back a “Hey!” and “Huh?” respectively. 

“Judging by your answers earlier.” He clarified.

“I don’t wanna be in the dark! I just-” He threw his arms up, “Sure, whatever, give her an unfair advantage.”

“The fact you believe others should be treated in a different way from you is noted.” The golden rule. He supposed Knife hadn’t been to kindergarten, which was when it was often taught. “But, I concede, and shall be honest to you both. I am currently experiencing a time loop.”

“Youuu heard him say that too, right?” Suitcase asked Knife.

“No, yeah, sure did.” He said, patting her gently on the top.

“I know it is difficult to believe, but I was asking that question earlier because I now know many things that are distressing to hear. I have been struggling with the decision between telling people or not.” Including, again, whether they should learn (as the hotel contestants did, that first loop) that they were artificial.

“Weirder stuff happens all the time…” She said, “But, yeah, pretty wild thing to claim?”

“Is that why you think you’re dying soon?” Knife was tapping his foot. “You’re malfunctioning.”

“If you do not believe me, that is fine. I have told you, and I will go through this loop doing my best to gain information as I always do.” Something about arguing this particular case was getting tiresome. Perhaps it was the futility of it. Even if he did convince them, he’d need to do it again. And again. And again.

They all stared at the approaching building. The fact it was so near to them probably should’ve been a red flag, on their first visit. MeCloud could be anywhere, and yet it loomed over their heads. Poetic in a gut churning kind of way. Not that he had guts to churn, but he think he understood what the experience was supposed to be like.

“What kind of information are you looking for?” Asked Suitcase, finally.

“I want to hear your conversation with MePhone3GS.” To understand him better, to know what he felt guilty for. “My other objective is to find Cobs’ ship.” To be able to stand beside Toilet, to see him whole and uninjured. 

“Who’s 3GS?”

“The injured phone from MePhone4’s memories. He still resides in that closet.” 

“You sure you’re not going to just lounge around the balloon like last time?” Knife didn’t look at him. 

He didn’t look at Knife. “No. The stakes propel me forward.” He turned on the Invisibow, and no one said anything else. 

Their journey through MeepleHQ was the same as it always was, in many ways. The soundtrack. The backdrop. The company. This time, he stuck mostly by Suitcase’s side. She was the one that located the junk closet first, after all. They didn’t talk much. He studied her back as she ran. There wasn’t much to see.

Staying invisible for their conversation with 3GS was a cowardly move, but he didn’t regret it. For one, he was to pay attention as he should’ve the first time. Showing his face would be detrimental.

Also because he could not help but stare at his “compatriot,” eyebrows giving away his sympathy. But, this 3GS did not know him. They hadn’t played a game together. They hadn’t been made fun of by Mecintosh together.

And, of course, the truth was horrifying. 3GS and his teammates didn’t have the power of creation stolen from the Shimmers. They’d stolen it. They’d stolen children to please Cobs, or died trying. Or, was it kidnapped? 

He could understand being debilitated by grief. MePad resisted the urge to unveil himself and sit across from 3GS, pulling him into his lap as though to protect him from such an ethereal thing as his own thoughts. 

He’d pay him back for his kindness, when MePad had been such a wreck, by giving him a happy ending. Then, he’d be able to see the sun. He’d be able to reunite with MePhone4 and see that the light, at least, was not dead.

“Oh hey, a map.” Knife remarked, holding up a large sheet of paper, “You’d think this would be digital.”

… Had they found that before? Was that how they found Cobs’ office? Curses, paying attention at volatile moments was worth it!

The door closed and 3GS was gone from view. MePad sort of wanted to go grab a lithium ion battery and a match and blow Steve Cobs up again. He wasn’t going to.

“If I may take a peek at that, for a moment.” MePad requested, holding a foot out. Though, of course, they couldn’t see it.

“Knock yourself out.” Said Knife in his general direction.

So he did. Take a peek, knocking himself out would be a waste. 

He scanned it over, and, yes it clearly labelled the helipad. Of course it was a helipad, what other kind of vehicle could land and take off in a small space? The architecture would have been built for a helicopter, before being repurposed for MePhone4’s special flying boat.

“This is where our paths diverge, I am afraid. Please, be careful against Cobs.” 

The finalists met eyes, and nodded. He handed Knife back the map. 

MePad teleported away. 

He reappeared, staring up at MePhone’s Sailboat. It was strange standing next to it. He’d only ever seen it in MePhone’s memories, first as a toy and then as the real thing.

He teleported again onto the deck and ducked through a doorway to the rest of it. Despite the outside’s colorful and somewhat whimsical design, the inside was just as sterile and infuriating as MeCloud. Another thing that could’ve been beautiful if not for that man’s corrupting influence. 

He noted air vents, and that they were larger than they should be. He found a bedroom that looked utterly childish in a way that made him ache. He wasn’t sure why Cobs hadn’t destroyed it yet, like he destroyed everything else.

Then he found it. The room. He opened the door and found them, and it was as though something had frozen MePad’s feet to the floor.

First of all, there was a huge screen. On it was a high definition image of one of the rooms in Hotel OJ. To one side was MePhoneX. He wasn’t sure how that was possible, how could it return here before he did? How did it get back to MeCloud?

As well, the whole room was ominous. Charcoal gray with bright red accents, it was almost cartoonishly evil in here.

None of those things were more important, though, than him. Finally, MePad had found his friend. His friend who was looking at him, baffled.

“Floating bowtie?” Toilet asked.

Oh, right. He turned it off. “Toilet. I have been searching for you for, what feels like, a very long time.” He took a step into the room, then another, and another. 

Toilet hopped down from the pedestal he was on, and MePad barely resisted bumping his screen up against him like a cat nuzzling another. 

“You said I wasn’t, ah, training?” Toilet asked. In the periphery, MePad saw MePhoneX slump a little. “That the stuff through there is real?”

“It is. Thank you for listening to me about that.” He didn’t really care, though. Well, yes, he cared that Toilet didn’t murder anyone, but right now- “I missed you.”

“Aww, missed ya too, buddy!” He said with a big, bright smile. “How’s tha show doin’ with only one assistant?”

“I resigned.” He answered honestly, “I am actually here just to see you. As my friend.”

Toilet initiated contact, leaning against his side. Some part of him, one that he hadn’t realized has been tense this whole time, relaxed. He knew Toilet was alive and well. He needed to see it, to touch it, to really reassure himself.

“Guess we’re un-eployed together, huh?”

“I suppose we are.” There was so much to say, but it was all failing him now that the desperation was gone. “Though first we need to get through this situation. Here, take my tie.” 

He quickly removed it from himself and fastened it underneath Toilet’s bowl.

“What exactly is going on?” Toilet cocked his head.

“Steve Cobs intends to kill MePhone4.” He got a horrified gasp from his friend, “Which will, in turn, kill every one of the contestants. I need information, the more I have the more I can do to prevent this.”

“Well, I can tell ya ‘bout what I’m doin’ up here!” Toilet returned to the pedestal, and MePad felt the loss of his touch most acutely. “I stand up here and Mister Phone X, that’s his name, does what I do! Master ADAM said it was to help me learn the everyday mundane tasks I’m supposed to be doin’, as an assistant!”

This made sense. MePhoneX moved and emoted as he was getting used to, having spent so much time with him (Information! Some people referred to MePhoneX with he/him) on earlier loops. Except, again. “If MePhoneX is up here, with you, then what are we seeing through the screen?”

“Uh, I dunno! Again, I was told this was a simmy-lator.” MePhoneX waved his hands around, “But it does whatever I do.” 

Huh. “Would you raise a hand in front of your face?”

Toilet tilted, as did MePhoneX, and the view on the screen. Then, a hand was raised and he saw it both in person and on the screen. A claw for a hand. 

“There must be two of MePhoneX.” There was no reason to assume there were two, until right now with the proof in front of him. Though, this made some things more reasonable, such as Cobs having a severed limb to wave around. It was from the one up here. “Interesting. And inefficient. I don't see why you need to be connected to one to control the other.”

“Beats me!” Toilet said cheerfully.

MePad flinched as he remembered that horrible sound. He hoped he never dropped a plate again in all his life. Information. “Right. Well. My point. Hypothetically, if I told you to break the controls in this room, what would you do?”

Toilet looked around a little, “Hmm, smash the screen? There’s nothing to wreck, really. ‘Cept whatcha call him.” He turned to look at X, and so X mirrored and… Turned to look at Toilet? Hm, that didn’t seem right.

Then they both turned back to MePad. And he looked at them. MePhoneX, the one who fell to the ground with every loop. Toilet, who landed not far away. Those big, heavy limbs. 

MePad felt cold. It was starting to hit him, terrible word choice, that Toilet had died and woken up directly next to the murder weapon. And, yet, he didn’t know. MePad didn’t want him to, it was terrible, he kind of wished right now that he didn’t know either. 

They tilted in unison, a perfect example of Toilet’s mannerisms imposed onto X and how it made the phone seem warmer and kinder. His friend was, even on this platform, shorter than X. He imagined what it would look like if Cobs stood there instead to deactivate his friends, or to push MePad into the water.

Then Toilet left the pad, and approached, and MePad wanted to take a step back. He wanted to take a step forward.

He ended up lowering himself to the ground, not trusting his legs. 

“MePad? Buddy?” Toilet came and looked him in the eye, and he felt… Something. Emotionally. But he didn’t know what it was. It was squeezing, and it stole his breath, and he didn’t know what to do.

It had taken so much work to get here. Why hadn’t he come up with something good to say? Why was he messing this up, now? Why couldn’t he stop thinking of horrible things? 

“What’s wrong?” Toilet asked, settling down just across from him, blocking MePad’s view of the screen behind him. 

“I am feeling.” Something. Like all of his treacherous emotions recently, it was getting in the way. It wasn’t letting him put it aside until later. He wasn’t a fan. “I want you to be safe. I want you to be happy. But-”

“Aww, MePad.” He smiled. He smiled so easily, so readily. They were all in danger and had been for days and he didn’t know. How many times had he smiled today that MePad couldn’t see? Was it dozens, or more? “I’m doin’ dandy, nothing to worry about.”

And, in this moment, that was true. “I missed you.” MePad said, and it too was true. He was around, but MePad still missed him. 

“Well, I’ve been thinking about you a lot, too.” He said, “Before you said this was all some trick, I was thinkin’ about how you musta gone through something like this. Been wonderin’ how you’d do the simulator differently, you know?”

That was sweet. “Aside from the false pretenses, I think you did great.” If MePad’s understanding was correct, that he’d been under the impression that deactivating the contestants was, as Toilet understood it, solving their issues. In a morbid way, it sort of was? 

“Thank you! Though I did kill that tall green fella.” He squeezed his eyes shut, “Please don’t be mad! I didn’t know yet!”

That he did. Unfortunately Pickle’s death was sealed in, but on the bright side he still existed within MePhone. “We shall figure it out together.” He gave in to his impulse and tipped forward so his face was touching the top of Toilet’s tank and closed his eyes. 

“We can figure out your problems, too! What’s buggin’ you? If it’s somebody, I’ll pummel em!” He felt Toilet move under him, and MePad let out a huff of laughter.

“Our problem is my creator, his next move is to try and use this ship to hurt people.” MePad leaned back, “After that, well. I’m glad I got to see you.”

“Hmmm.” Toilet’s face scrunched up in consideration. “What if we used his ship to hurt nobody?”

… Oh, that was true. He stood up, pausing for a moment to poke Toilet’s bowtie, activating the invisibility. “You’re right. Let’s find the control room.”

“Alright!” His companion exclaimed, and he watched as the bowtie hovered up, wooshing enthusiastically through the air. “Let’s ding dang do this!” 

They left this room and started running down the halls. It didn’t take him very long to notice, however, that there was more than one set of feet slapping against tile, and he peeked behind him to find that MePhoneX was following them. 

That was odd. Did Toilet’s exclamation count as a command?

He was soon distracted from this thought by something banging against a door as he passed it.

He peeked through the bars at the top and saw Suitcase. He presumed Knife was also in there, but he wasn't visible. “Finalists! Let me get you out of there!”

“We would really appreciate that.” Suitcase said, smile tight. He heard a grunt from Knife, which he assumed was more confirmation.

“Mister Toilet, do you know the code?” He asked, starting to turn to look at him, only to find MePhoneX next to him, pressing the buttons with his claw. “Oh, thank you.”

He wasn’t sure why he said that. MePhoneX didn’t pause pushing in the buttons to react. He must be giving commands by accident. Or, it was possible it was still connected to Toilet still? 

It wasn’t important! The door swung open and Knife (who had been standing too close to be seen, apparently) and Suitcase walked out. He crossed his arms, she glanced around curiously. Or, perhaps, nervously. Maybe, with her, that went without saying.

“Follow me, we’re commandeering this ship!” And, they all began running again.

“Who’s your new friend?” Asked Knife.

“That is MePhoneX.” He replied, but he wasn’t sure what to say beyond that. Everything relevant felt too heavy. He killed Pickle, I am pretty sure he’s just following us because we accidentally said to, I am pretty sure it’s just a machine. Not helpful.

But, then he caught a glimpse of yellow as they ran past a door, and they all slid to a stop, looked at each other, and ran back to that door.

MePad shoved in front, effectively blocking the others from view. It might’ve been too late, though, Cobs was already looking this way. He could barely see the surroundings from how his eyes were glued to his creator. This did seem to be the right room.

“MePad shows up, my finalists have escaped, and she’s not screaming. This just keeps getting better, now doesn’t it?” His words were dripping with sarcasm, he didn’t even bother putting on a fake smile. “Let me guess, you’re going to try and defeat me. Juvenile.” 

The others pushed him, and he couldn’t help but step forward. Suddenly, they were by his side instead of behind him. Not optimal.

“You’re outnumbered this time!” Declared Suitcase with a grin. MePad realized the sun was starting to set out there. “We’re taking the ship!”

Cobs rolled his eyes, “I don’t think you’re very good at math. Eleven beats three. X, capture the escapees.”

There was a blur of movement, yells of indignation from both of the contestants, and MePad was kicked forward. He caught himself, but now he was dangerously close to his creator. This would be a good time to have matches. 

Toilet yelled a war cry, and he heard thumps as things slammed into other things behind him. He was, again, more focused on the man in front of him as he pulled out his knife. “I’ve been needing a little stress reliever, now stand still.”

MePad left his thoughts behind in a whirl of actions. Dodge, dodge, kick at him. Dodge, miscalculate, bang against wall. Dodge, kick-

Something hit the back of him, and he fell forward onto Cobs’ blade. It hurt the expected amount, flooding him with errors and freezing him in place. Fighting in a room with six people was not ideal.

“MePad!” Someone screamed, and he didn’t have the presence of mind to figure out who exactly it was. Maybe it was multiple people.

His creator was smirking. Behind him, the view out the windows. 

A thought returned to his head. How far a drop could Cobs survive? 

“I believe in you.” He croaked out, fairly good as far as last words go, and teleported himself, Steve Cobs, and the knife connecting them outside. 

Eyes widened in surprise, not his own. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” 

“You’re coming down with me.” MeLife hadn’t been unplugged yet, this loop. Suitcase and Knife were fine. Marshmallow and Taco were fine.

He peered downward, glad to find that there was nobody standing in the "splash zone." No bystanders. He teleported them again, just a little higher up, maybe enough to make a difference. Getting enough momentum that corn becomes pancake was ideal.

Having the knife jostled by the wind was… Distracting. The edges of his vision were getting dark. He couldn’t feel his legs.

The ground came faster than he was expecting it to.

He felt it as-

And then he woke up.

Chapter Text

His legs were fine. He still collapsed to the ground, as though the momentum had carried over. His legs were fine and yet they throbbed.  

He laid flat on the ground and tried to draw his focus to anything else. Where he was stabbed hurt. The entire underside of his casing, the part that had collided with the ground just after his legs, hurt. 

Other things. He looked up at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure he actually saw it. He imagined how much pain Cobs must’ve been in as his own legs broke. That helped. 

MePad was becoming cruel. Steve Cobs deserved it. If he survived this and he was still wishing painful deaths on others, then he’d worry about it.

All things considered, taking the ship wasn’t actually that bad of a plan. At the end of the loop? No, Cobs was already there, too risky. However, he started at MeepleHQ. If MePad was fast enough…

He flinched at the thought of standing up right now… But he could still speak. He had a voice.

MePad took in a deep, unnecessary breath (as well as clicked his volume up a couple times) to yell at the top of his lungs. “MISS TACO! I REQUIRE YOUR ASSISTANCE.”

He laid in silence for a moment or two, but then he heard her footsteps, and she appeared above him. “MePad? Wh- Why are you on the floor?” 

“Temporary leg pain.” It was already fading, but he still didn’t want to stand. “I have a favor to ask of you.”

She squinted down at him, “A favor of what sort?”

“There is an intercom near the rear of the hotel, opposite of the entrance people use. I would go down there and use it myself, however I find myself a bit incapacitated for the time being. Would you please announce that I am planning on stealing Cobs’ ship and that everyone should pack to evacuate?”

“Can I tell them what?”

“I am in a time loop. I intend to steal Steve Cobs’ ship. If all goes to plan, I will have everything with which he threatens us. If everyone comes with us, everyone shall be safe.”

Her expression was near unreadable. “If I don’t believe it coming from you, how will anyone believe it coming from me?”

“Oh, good point.” What to do, what to do? “How about this…” 

He teleported them down to behind the front desk, an action which thankfully took no physical movement. He was still on his back. “Please depress that button and hold it, I will shout.”

“You’ve lost it.” She said plainly, but sure enough she followed his instruction. The speaker audibly crackled to life. 

“Contestants and others! We are soon to be under siege by Steve Cobs! Do not fear, however, as I am going to steal his ship. Please pack and be ready for an evacuation, I will return to pick you all up shortly! Mister Toilet, cease your current actions, I will be joining you and MePhoneX soon. Until then, no deactivating anyone! It’s impolite. Okay, thank you my friend, you can turn it off now.”

She stopped holding it down. Taco looked… Dubious. “Has your brain cracked? You sound insane.” 

“I am sure that I do. The circumstances make it difficult to behave in an outwardly reasonable manner.” The irritation of carpet on his back was getting to be more intense than the pain in his legs. He sat up. “Ah, wait, press the button again.”

“I should stop enabling this.” She muttered, but did indeed press it again.

“If someone would please go tell the residents of Purgatory Mansion to evacuate I would very much appreciate it, thank you. That is all.” Was there anyone else who wasn’t in either of those places? He knew there were several contestants from Season 3 around, hopefully they were all in the hotel? 

Miss Tea Kettle was. That spoon fellow, Cabby, and the slime creature were. He had no idea if there were others in that season. He hadn’t made time for that, yet. It seemed… Less pressing than everything else. 

“So, to be clear, you do believe this?” Taco put a hand on her hip, “If it’s some sort of trick I’d prefer to be in on it.”

“You will have to trust me on this one. Everyone will. If my plan is to work, we must all be relatively crispy in this endeavor.” She raised an eyebrow. “Humoring me and getting on the ship when I have it is a safer bet than staying here, so close to MeCloud.”

“If you say so.” She didn’t sound like she believed it. That was fine. She just had to get okay with it… Soon.

“Now, I have a balloon to catch.” He said and teleported away. She might’ve, in that last moment, opened her mouth to say something. He hoped he wasn’t making a habit of leaving in the middle of conversations with her.

Time was of the essence.

When he arrived on the lawn, still sitting, the hot air balloon was, sure enough, in the air. But, thank goodness, it was still tethered. 

“Excuse me!” He shouted up at them. “Permission to come aboard?”

“Uh, granted?” Said Knife. 

Another teleport and he reappeared in the basket, sitting against a far wall. Thankfully he hadn’t collided with anything. Suitcase threw the rope overboard.

“So, uh, welcome? The more the merrier, I guess.” She smiled at him, but there was an edge of confusion. “Why are you sitting?”

“My legs hurt.” No, wait. He took stock of his body. That wasn’t true anymore. “Correction, my legs were hurt. If it is not troublesome, I will continue to rest until we arrive.” It wasn't quite what Marshmallow wanted for him, but it would do for now.

“Sure.” Knife crossed his arms, “Did MePhone send you?”

“No, actually. I haven’t spoken to him yet.” When was the last time they spoke? MePad thought back… It might’ve been just before he jumped off the cliff. Though, he hadn't been paying much attention, then. That could barely be considered a conversation.

Of course, from Knife and Suitcase’s perspective it would’ve been when MePhone gave them this mission in Pickle’s hotel room. That felt like forever ago. 

“Then why are you here?” Asked Suitcase, “Not that you’re not welcome! But we were about to have our big confrontation.”

“Yes, I know. I had a better idea. Defeating Steve Cobs is an admirable goal, however I think stealing his ship and fleeing may give us better odds.”

“His ship?” She tilted her head.

“Yes, he is using the sailboat MePhone4 made as his base of operations for this particular endeavor. The device MeLife is currently being funneled through is on there, as is the weapons he plans to use against the aliens. If we take it, he is nigh powerless.” 

(A slight exaggeration. A billionaire CEO could never be powerless in a world that used money. However, the fact Cobs had put all of his “eggs” in that one “basket” was exploitable.)

“Wouldn’t this have been good to mention earlier?” Knife rolled his eyes, “Not to be ungrateful.”

Had they believed him about the time loop? No, they hadn’t. He would need to keep avoiding the full truth. Or, as he liked to call it, lying. “I only learned it recently myself. But, is it not a relief that you no longer have to face him?”

“Ohhh, I get it!” Suitcase said, smile on her face. “You’re still working with Taco, right?”

He nodded. “I consider the two of us friends.”

“You're still trying to get us to quit.” She shook her head, determined expression on her face. “We’ve come this far, we’re not backing down.”

“If she’s not quitting, I won’t.” He smirked, “Winners don’t run away, huh?”

Suitcase nodded back and nudged him. He pushed her back, just a little, teasingly.

The dread was back, seeping into him like water between the cracks of his casing. They weren’t going to listen, were they? It was funny that Knife had phrased it like that. 3GS had phrased it similarly, the other day.

“To be clear, that is not why I am suggesting this.” Though, he agreed with Taco more than ever that winners and losers were pointless. “I am suggesting this because I do not want either of you to die.” 

“Wow, no confidence in us, huh?” Knife leaned up against Suitcase, an elbow resting on her handle. “It’ll be nice to prove you wrong.”

“If that is how you choose to take my words, so be it. I sincerely hope you both stay safe.” But he knew they wouldn’t. Suitcase wiggled until she dislodged him. Knife rolled his eyes. 

They might as well be dead already. And yet, he still hoped for them that fate would spare them this once.

Hopefully… With the device that could cease MeLife’s operation available, they would figure out how to get them recoverable again. He wanted this plan to work, but he didn’t want to lose these two in the process. One could only be safe in Cobs’ lair for so long, after all.

More words were exchanged before they got to MeCloud, but he didn’t register any of them. Instead, he thought.

They, Knife and Suitcase, kept throwing themselves against this challenge, and every time they failed. Would they be happier if they gave up? Likely there would be some mental discomfort. Being pointed forward gave them something to do other than worry. 

He imagined if they could remember, like him. How long would it take them to give up and relax? Ignore the pressing issues and rest? 

He knew Lightbulb would probably give up and accept the same day over and over again as her life. Ignore it until it went away.

He wondered how long he himself could persist, under these conditions. How many times had he tried this, so far? 

He remembered everything that had happened, he was fairly sure, but it was beginning to get difficult to keep everything in order. The beach, exploring the hotel, playing The Oregon Trail, committing terrorism, hearing Toilet die, all distinct and yet. It was the same day. It blended together. 

Of course, Suitcase and Knife were determined. It was possible they had it in them to stay with it, to chip away until the wall was rubble.

He was a machine. There were similarities. He'd keep running until he broke. He'd see it through to the end. 

Who could say what would still be left of him, though?

He made it through the front door and into the room where the singing started, invisible of course. He prompted them again, if they wanted to come with him and escape, but they did not change their minds.

Next step. He teleported in front of the junk closet. He opened the door and saw them, just as he’d left them. He stepped inside and dropped the invisibility. “Mecintosh, MePhone3GS. Come with me.”

3GS startled awake and his arms went flat against the walls as though to brace himself. Mecintosh didn’t even turn on his screen.

MePad stepped further into the closet. “I am escaping, I want to bring you with me.”

He took stock of 3GS’ wide, wide eyes. He dissolved into static, grimaced and shook his head. “N-”

Another step, a stomp even. “You are not happy here! I am stealing a ship, you can-”

“Hey, buster, back off!” MePad swivelled to see Mecintosh glaring at him, “Leave us to rot.”

“You do not need to rot, without his ship Cobs won’t-”

3GS let out a terrible sound, and he had his full attention again. 3GS, however, stared at nothing. “Please, Cobs, no. Please, Cobs, no. bzzt We can still- Mission parameters logged- PLEASE, I CAN SAVE THEM!” 

He convulsed, ending up with his screen flat to the ground and his shaking arms over him, as though to protect himself somehow. He was muttering to himself, “ Please please please please.”

“Leave.” Macintosh said again.

He didn’t want to, but he listened. He backed away until he was out the door, shut it with a shaking leg, and he stood there. He’d done something wrong. He’d scared him. But- He needed to save everyone else, still. 

He’d- He’d come back for them. 

MePad teleported away, up a floor, up another, across the building, up another. And, there it was. MePhone’s ship.

MePhone4’s ship. Not 3GS’. He’d come back for them. He’d find a way to.

He teleported onto the deck and ignored how winded he was as he slipped inside. Find Toilet, then to the control room. He said it to himself over and over, to block out the other thoughts. Find Toilet, over and over.

There he was, stark, bright white against this primarily gray room. Light against this darkness.

And, of course, next to MePhoneX who was all imposing red. A relief, how quickly he could get to him now that he knew where to look. “Mister Toilet! Come with me to the control room. We’re stealing this ship!”

His friend wooshed around to face him, “MePad! Ah, okay!” 

He turned to run, trusting Toilet to follow. He heard another pair of footsteps behind him, and he ignored it. It was just X. He couldn’t save 3GS because he scared him, but at least the hollow shell was coming with.

MePad felt his eyelid twitch. Time was of the essence, he’d come back for them. He’d figure it out, they’d been fine so far, they’d be fine until he came back. He wanted to believe it, he had to.

Control room. Devoid of Cobs. Thank whoever was listening, if he saw that face right now he might blow a circuit. 

He turned around and, as he expected, Toilet was there. He could breathe a little easier, at least Toilet was here. “I don’t know how to fly this, do you?”

“Not a clue!” He exclaimed, approaching the controls. “I can drive a stick, though!”

MePad had, perhaps, a negative amount of information about what that meant. A branch? A twig? “No clue as well, but-”

MePhoneX approached the controls and started pressing buttons, pulling levers, turning knobs. The ship underneath them lurched, and Toilet collided with him, toppling them both to the ground.

Ah. He wondered if Cobs had ever had MePhoneX fly it before. He must have, MePad thought, as he felt the ship rumble beneath him. He could feel it rise, not dissimilar to how it felt to ride an elevator. 

He sat up, pushing Toilet off his back in the process. MePhoneX hadn’t moved at all from the spot where he stood, swaying effortlessly with the movement of the boat. “Thank you. Please, uh, chart a course to Inanimate Island?”

There was no response, but X kept steering the ship. They either were going there or weren’t, he supposed. At least, until he could figure out how this thing was piloted.

“MePad!” 

He turned so he could see his friend. “Yes?”

“Not that I’m not glad as a gander to see ya, but what’s happening?” 

Were ganders glad? His life had been goose-free up until now. “You see, Steve Cobs tricked you. You were not in a training simulator, you were piloting his most recent deadly robot.”

A gasp, “Aw no! I didn’t mean to, honest!”

“I understand, and I do not blame you.” MePad shook his head sympathetically, “He is a very tricky man, but luckily most of his plans rely on being on board this ship. If we have it, he cannot.” 

“We’re pirates!” Toilet looked suddenly delighted.

“I suppose we are! We have commandeered this vessel.” Situation as unfortunate as it was, he hadn't had a boring loop so far. 

“Maybe we can find eyepatches!” He exclaimed, “I’ve always wanted a hook for a hand, too. They seem mighty useful.”

Toilet started hovering a little, and MePad followed his lead and stood up. “I have given very little thought to their utility, elaborate?”

“Well you can use em to open cans, and to hold onto a pole in a windstorm so ya don’t blow away, and even to catch fish if you’ve got enough longanimity!” 

“Fascinating.” He wouldn’t have thought of any of that. He also made a note to look up the definition of longanimity, he didn’t think Toilet had used it right. 

“Let’s go to the deck! I wanna feel the wind in my face, now that we’re proper criminals!” 

Toilet wooshed through the doorway, but MePad found himself lingering. He spared a glance at MePhoneX, who was still operating the controls with mechanical precision. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to say something, or if it’d continue to pilot until they got there without issue.

Should… He give a next instruction? 

“Uh, MePhoneX. When we get to Inanimate Island…” Should they fly in a holding pattern, and MePad teleport folks up? Or should they land, have everyone come aboard, and then take off again? “I’ll come back in here, I suppose. Thank you for… Knowing how to fly a ship?”

There was no visible response, because of course there wasn’t. He might as well be talking to an overengineered can opener. So, he turned and left, following Toilet to the deck.

It was, technically, very similar to flying in the balloon. They were going a bit faster, so the wind speed was more significant. But it was the same blue sky, dotted with whispy white clouds. 

And yet, sitting on the bow (he thought that's what the front was called) of the sailboat with Mister Toilet was much, much more pleasant. Even if he had to sit oddly to avoid catching the wind with his own large, flat body.

Currently Toilet was eagerly telling him about pirate media he'd seen as a child, and any adjacent thought that floated through his head. 

“But then my cousin caught con-junky-virus and she didn't wear an eye patch or nothin’! It was just facing the world, that pink eye o’ hers!” 

MePad nodded along. “Gross.” 

“Right?! But then she made a big deal out ‘o me sayin’ so! I just don't get it, why have a bad eye and not cover it?”

A good question. “Perhaps an eye patch would've been more irritating? It's possible it made the area around her eye more sensitive, or that her optometrist advised against bandaging it.”

“You know? I'd believe that.” Success. “But… That's sad, then! The perfect opper-chu-nity to play pirate, but you can't take it!”

“There may sometimes be benefits to injuries, but I feel as though in most cases they are a net negative.”

“Fair enough, buddy!” Toilet grinned at him, “Thanks for listening, by the by. I've been pretty lonely, you know, training all on my lonesome with Mister Phone X.”

“I can imagine, you are somewhat of a social butterfly.” Though, one who often said things in ways blunter than he intended. MePad was alike in that respect, since his main goal in conversation was to plainly convey information. “I have missed you as well. Have I told you yet, today, how much you mean to me?”

“Erm….” He heard him hum, “Not sure! Wouldn’t mind hearin’ it again.” 

And MePad didn’t mind saying it. He’d say it every time, if he needed to. “You are one of the most important people in my life, and I am so glad to have met you.” It wasn’t the most elegant way of putting it, it hadn’t been the first time and it still wasn’t now. But he meant it. 

“Aww, buddy! I love you too!” He rushed forward to collide with MePad, glass clinking against porcelain. MePad wrapped a leg around him. 

Love, huh? He thought back to his first death. He'd thought about love then, too. If love was an action and not a feeling, he was performing it every day as he tried to secure everyone’s happy ending.

“One other thing I admire about you is how open you are about your feelings.” MePad said, “For instance, the fact you care for MePhone, I have never doubted it.”

“Of course! My mum taught me that, you know!” He leaned back a little, and MePad could again see his eyes, “My parents kept their feelings all locked up for forever, because Mum figured if Dad liked her back, he’d say something. But, Dad thought Mum was out of his league!”

“I presume they figured it out eventually.”

“Well, yeah, but the point is wearing your heart on your sleeve is the best thing to do always!” Toilet clinked the side of his head against MePad, again. 

“I can very easily trace this philosophy’s impact on your lifestyle and demeanor.” And, now he knew Toilet had at least two parents. “I admire it, I think, because it is very different from how I naturally operate.”

He felt Toilet nod against him, “When we first met, I thought you hated me back! You were so prissy.” 

“Was I?” He was certainly optimistic upon first boot, he remembered that. 

“You were! I thought you thought you were too good for me, just because you were tall and fancy and pretty and smart and had a cute voice and all that!” Toilet laughed, “But really you’re nice, too.”

Despite the breeze, he felt warm up here. A cute voice, huh? “I am very glad we got that sorted out.”

Toilet inhaled to say something else, but cut himself off. He floated out of MePad’s grasp, did a somersault, and shouted, “LAND HO!”

MePad peered over the guardrail and, sure enough. “Ah, Inanimate Island. Do you think we should have MePhoneX fly us in a holding pattern, or land?”

“I said land ho, gotta land on the land!” 

MePad blinked. “As good a reason as any.” 

They headed back inside, and MePad didn’t even need to adjust to the change in lighting from the bright outside to the dark outside. Because, well, it was obnoxiously illuminated in here. 

Toilet followed him back to the room-with-the-steering. He was sure there was a special boat name for that. Unfortunately, nautical terminology was out of his wheelhouse. 

MePhoneX was exactly where they’d left him, operating things. “Hello, MePhoneX. Would you please land the ship adjacent to Hotel OJ, and lower whatever it is people use to board?”

“Oh! Oh! I can help with that!” Toilet said, “I used that to get up here, myself, I know where it is!”

“Fantastic! I will focus on getting all of the contestants.” He hoped they'd had enough time to pack their essentials by now, whatever those ended up being. They'd all lived outside during the show, so he had no real idea what possessions they'd be worried about. He supposed he'd learn soon.

MePad teleported in front of the hotel before they even landed. He thought of Steve Cobs and what he'd be able to do about this plan. 

He might not have noticed by now, or maybe he was already on their tail. Who could know?

That to say, he was wanting to move quickly. 

He stepped inside what was probably technically the back entrance and was greeted by the partygoers, though they didn't seemed offput. That was reasonable, they were in danger.

“Hark!” He said, it seemed the right exclamation. “It is time to evacuate.” 

OJ crossed his arms, “My hotel is perfectly safe, I’ll have you know. Nobody needs to go anywhere.”

“Yeah! We’re up to code!” Paper declared, from behind OJ’s shoulder. Then his expression changed and he put some distance between them, “I mean, OJ’s hotel is up to code.”

OJ looked hurt, but MePad spoke up next. They’d have time to work through whatever was coming between them once they were safe. “I am not alleging any structural fault with the hotel, we are about to be under attack. Please follow me outside and onto the boat.” He gestured through the open doorway, where it could be seen landing.

Everyone started sharing glances, though he did notice OJ and Paper deliberately not looking at each other. Balloon raised a hand, “So, did Suitcase come back with you, or…?”

Ah. Right, he’d been trying not to think about that. How to put this politely… “She decided she’d rather win than be safe.”

“Well, I’m not leaving without her.” 

“Yeah!” Nickel piped in, and he was surprised to see Balloon not flinch. “We’re not just going to run away! Right, Baseball? I mean, it can’t be that bad.”

He looked exceptionally nervous, “Well, uh, I mean- It could be pretty bad?”

Lightbulb leaned up against him, wide grin on her face. “I vote boat, no downsides to that plan.”

He appreciated the confidence, though he thought she might just be trying to ignore conflict again. 

“Whatever, losers, I’m not gonna die.” Trophy shoved past MePad and out the door, “Peace!” 

Cabby raised a hand, “Hello, excuse me. To be clear, you think famous billionaire Steve Cobs, who regularly sends killer robots after the crew of the show, is now planning to attack contestants?”

“That’s ridiculous, we’ve got nothing to worry about!” Lightbulb said and took a large gulp of a soda, “Ah, this is the good stuff. We’re so safe.”

He shared with Cabby an especially flat look, “He has already killed someone today, please get on the boat.”

Many people flinched, but Cabby wasn’t one of them. “Fair enough.” She said, scooped up the little blue thing, and started rolling towards the door. “Come along, Goo.”

“Oh boy! Do you think there’ll be a pool?” 

MePad didn’t hear Cabby’s response over Yang shouting, “LAST time we went on a boat, we ended up on another STUPID TV SHOW! We didn’t even WIN!” 

A purple candle nodded, patting him on the shoulder, “And how did that make you feel?”

“Well- I think having another chance helped us grow as a person!” Said Yin, his side of the face curling into a wobbly smile. 

“People!” Argued Yang back. When the candle took one of their hands, though, neither of them pulled away and she started leading them towards the door. The spoon followed, though he seemed to be pretending he wasn’t walking with the others.

“You should work on your self worth.” She commented as she passed, expression still serene. 

… The new contestants were odd, he wasn’t sure how he felt about them yet. 

“There’s no reason to leave!” OJ announced, again. “Any threat we’re facing, we’ll be fine! My hotel was built back stronger than ever!” 

Paper audibly scoffed. 

He scanned over who all was left. Salt, who was barely paying attention as she typed something on a phone, and Pepper who seemed nervous enough for the both of them. Cheesy and The Cherries both stood by the snacks, watching thoughtfully (maybe for a comedic window, maybe they were just interested.) Bomb and Tissues, who were actively in the middle of a game. Baseball, Nickel, Balloon, and Lightbulb. OJ and Paper, deliberately standing apart. Microphone and Soap, lurking by the doorway. Now that he looked, he could see Taco back there.

They were all alive, for now. “I do not wish death on any of you, so please, follow me onto the boat.”

Pepper raised a hand, “Uh, not to be, like. Insensitive. But who died? You said someone died.”

“Pickle.” He displayed an icon of him, the MeLife picture in his Contestants Folder. He’d never actually used it. He crossed it off for emphasis. Several people gasped, and Bomb flinched so hard that his controller went flying into the TV, shattering it. 

Paper trembled, The Cherries frowned. Mic tellingly glanced down at Taco.

Lightbulb started laughing. “What a kidder! I always said, Meepers knows how to prank a pull!”

Baseball grinned like a man with a gun to his head. “So what! It’s not like we’re in a situation where MePhone can’t bring us back if something happens, and I’m not allowed to tell anyone so I’m just quietly panicking and have been for over an hour!” 

Everyone turned to him, even Salt. Lightbulb tsked, “What a thing to keep secret.” Baseball looked ready to explode.

“Wonderful, now everyone is aware of the true stakes.” And said by someone that wasn’t him, which was good because apparently his own word wasn’t trustworthy enough for everyone here.  “Please board the boat, I will now grab MePhone and any other stragglers.”

He teleported to MePhone’s closet (the old contestant closet, but it was pretty much his at this point, was it not?) only to find it was empty. Huh. 

Well, that was a good thing. He’d been suggesting for loops now that MePhone go out into the greater hotel, or even better fully outside. He left the closet himself and walked a few steps before he thought of the next best place to look.

His guess was right, MePhone was absolutely in the kitchen. And with Tea Kettle as well! Perfect. “Hello, I have found both of you, perfect!”

MePhone whirled around, visibly startled. “MePad?! What were you talking about earlier?” 

He absolutely didn’t want to be having this conversation right now. And! He had an excuse, they were all in danger. “No time, sir.” He took a couple quick steps forward, then teleported the three of them (and their respective trays of snacks, because he didn’t want to be yelled at) onto the deck of the sailboat. 

“Hey!” Exclaimed Tea Kettle.

“Wh-” Started MePhone, but he left again before he could hear the rest of it. 

Purgatory Mansion. He kicked open the door to find the residents, alive and dead, standing around and having a conversation with Paintbrush, Test Tube, and Fan. Perfect, he wouldn’t have to find them. 

“Hello, apologies for interrupting. We are all in danger, I have secured a getaway vehicle. Please proceed to the sailboat parked a short ways away.” He gestured to behind him, hopefully it was visible back there. 

Everyone stared at him, for a moment. 

“It’s like Space Allegories. Season 4, episode 11.”

“Oh!” Fan smacked himself in the forehead, “Of course! Your weird message at the hotel was a days deep into the time loop, barely coherent warning!” 

Test Tube crossed her arms, “Just because MePad’s a Space Allegorer doesn’t mean he’s actually experiencing a temporal anomaly.” 

“Allegorer seems like a pretty unfortunate name for a fanbase.” Paintbrush said, “Couldn’t it be something like… Spacer?”

“Hey look, you’re geekifying them!” Apple smiled, “Whatever that means.”

Marshmallow waved her hands, drawing their attention, “Excuse me, what’s this about us being in danger?”  

He was tired of explaining it, especially since he kept doing such a bad job. Everyone had listened to him when he’d ordered they all go to MeCloud and retrieve a new battery for MePhone! What was the difference? Was repeating himself making him less effective, or was it simply that he hadn’t ever been very persuasive, and that being able to hold the contest over their head was the deciding factor?

MePad, again, wished that someone else was in charge of all this. 

“-in the first place!” He suddenly realized Fan was talking, “Well, originally we didn’t think anyone actually lived here, but, like...”

As he trailed off, Test Tube shrugged and picked up the conversational slack. “My sensor was pointing us in this direction anyway.” She held up the device she carried around today, the one that led the three former Bright Lights out here, if he didn’t distract them. 

“Right!” Fan said, “And, before we got distracted by our very interesting scientific and philosophical debate over the nature of existence, we were trying to tell you that Cobs is coming for us and we need to evacuate!” 

“Umm, not to be a drag, but like doesn’t evacuating require leaving?” Asked Bow. “Because, like, that’s one of my growth areas.” 

“Yeah, like, we’re pretty stuck here.” Nodded Dough. “For the next eternity or whatever.”

He didn’t want to give up on the two of them, but they had a point. They physically couldn’t evacuate. “What if you possessed someone, or something?” 

“I don’t know how long I can even do that for.” Bow groaned, “I mean, you look away to check one mention and suddenly everybody’s yelling at you for dropping all the dishes!” 

Apple worried her bottom lip, glancing between her friends’ faces, “It was pretty loud…”

“Who cares about a little noise?” Dough said, hand on his hip, “I just miss having plates.” 

Paintbrush shook themself, eyes refocusing. “So what?” 

“So what, what?” Asked Apple. 

“So what if he's trying to kill us!” They mirrored Dough’s pose, “Dying isn't fun but also… Who cares?”

“MePhone currently cannot revive anyone who is lost.” MePad clarified. He kept forgetting everybody was unaware. It was fundamental to the problem at hand, but almost nobody knew at the start. 

Fan and Test Tube gasped, Paintbrush blanched, and Apple shrieked, “Hold me!” She leapt into Marshmallow's arms, which succeeded only in knocking both of them to the ground. 

“Oh, so just like normal.” Dough shrugged. 

“Yeah, man, it would be so rough to die forever.” Bow rolled her eyes, “Welcome to the club, besties, it is not that bad.” 

Marshmallow groaned, smushed under her roommate. 

“Okay, team, let's get in another boat and hope it doesn't lead to Season 4.” Paintbrush started ushering their friends towards the door. 

“But- for how long?” Apple asked, rolling off of Marshmallow, “Me and Bow were gonna do a jigsaw puzzle tomorrow!” 

“Our journey does not have a preplanned end date, nor a destination, because we are not running to anywhere. We're running from somebody.”

“Sounds great to me. Personally, I love not dying.” Paintbrush turned back to face the room again once Fan and  Test Tube were outside. “Apple, Marsh, you coming?”

They were both sitting up, now, though Apple still clutched at her. 

“I don't think we will be.” Said Marshmallow, “I'm not going to leave Bow behind. But, Apple, if you want to go-”

She shook her head, “No, Marsh, I already ran away with you, I don't need to do it again without you! You and me and Bow, we're a team!”

“And Dough.” He interjected.

“And Dough!” Apple agreed. 

“Aww, my girls are willing to die for me! Yayyy!” Bow did a loop in the air, then came to rest right above both of their heads, one hand on each. They were clearly just phasing through, but it was a cute gesture. 

“And me!” Dough hovered nearby, arms crossed. “Ugh, I'm a part of this too!”

MePad followed the other three outside, missing the next response as he closed the door behind him. 

Paintbrush sighed, shoulders slumping.

Test Tube raised an eyebrow, “We could just take them with us anyway, you know. They're super easy to carry, or we could have MePad teleport them.”

They shook their head, “It's their decision, we can't-” Another sigh, “Let's go.”

They all started walking in the direction of the boat. 

Fan rubbed his shoulder.

“I kind of want to talk more about the fact we're in a time loop, but that was a downer, huh?” 

“You know he hasn't proved anything, yet, right?” Test Tube asked.

Had he not? What had he done in the past? 

… Oh, right! “The first time I tried to prove my situation, MePhone ended up yelling at me. I would not like to repeat that part.” 

“What does that mean?” Asked Paintbrush.

“I told Test Tube something only MePhone knows and we confirmed with him, but I ended up worrying him. Not my intention.” MePhone did not like hearing about MePad dying, he established that very clearly. 

“So, I don't know much about time loops. Fan was talking kind of fast-” Said Paintbrush.

“Of course I was! They have so much narrative potential! It's just unfortunate that from the show’s perspective none of this can be feasibly captured. Probably? Right?”

MePad shook his head, “I am fairly certain film cameras would reset along with everything else.”

“Have you figured out the catalyst yet? What causes a loop to occur? When does it start? I would presume around when you said that message over the loud speaker or whatever it is, but that's the middle of the day? Kind of a weird time, isn't it?”

“What part of this is you not talking about it?” Paintbrush asked with a little smile. 

“It's a very interesting subject! Time loops are in my top 50 sci-fi tropes!”

“Show me that list sometime.” Said Test Tube, and he nodded eagerly.

MePad gazed at the boat as they approached. He noticed the little boarding ramp and the fact there was no one left at the bottom of it, and he suddenly remembered they had limited time. They were in danger, there was no telling how fast Cobs could requisition another aeronautical vehicle! 

He teleported the four of them aboard the front deck part (bow?), startling everyone that wasn't himself. “Apologies, we can speak again later. I am needed elsewhere.”

He rushed to the side-deck, where Toilet was standing near the ramp, whistling a tune to himself. 

“Is everyone aboard?”

“MePad!” He smiled, “Well nobody else seems to be comin’ this way. I'd say we're set to go!”

“Fantastic, please pull up the ramp, I'll get us in the air.”

“Aye-aye, matey!” He winked, “Still haven't found myself an eyepatch, let me know if you find any.”

“Will do.” And, again, he teleported away. 

Having the ship take off again was not difficult. With MePhoneX at the helm, it was as simple as requesting it be done. But, there was still a jittering inside him. It felt as though something small, like a mouse, had climbed inside and began to shiver. 

He didn't want to leave anyone behind. He didn't want to compromise anyone's agency. 

Suitcase and Knife. Marshmallow and Apple. Nickel, Baseball, and Balloon (he presumed.)

He'd known the contestants of Season 2 his whole life, and yet he couldn't save all of them. 

He wanted this plan to succeed, so he could stop all this. But he didn't want to live if it meant the death of those he held in regard! None of them deserved that. 

He stood next to X and watched through the windows as the world wooshed by. 

He was good at identifying the problems others had. And, of course, this situation was very simple. Cobs was the danger.

He didn't know how to fix it, especially not if so many wouldn't run away with him. 3GS and Mecintosh, he wasn't sure how he could've done that any worse.

In retrospect, rushing in there as someone neither of them knew and demanding something from them was wrong. It was unkind and ineffective, which he considered to be a very bad combination. They deserved gentler. Neither of them were to be rushed. 

But, how could he get around rushing them? Was there anything he could do to get the ghosts out of the Mansion? He really didn't know enough about how they worked, though it wasn't the Mansion itself that contained them. It was the land the Mansion occupied, right? 

There had to be a workaround. That was something to study. 

But that was just one piece of the puzzle. Three- Sorry, Dough, four people out of thirty-ish.

Could he ever convince Knife and Suitcase to give up? Had everyone boarded? Toilet had just said nobody else seemed to be coming, not that every person was accounted for. 

How many had he failed to convince? How long until Cobs found a way to catch up? If he figured out how to do this perfectly, would he have enough time to save everyone?

Out of the corner of his eye he saw as MePhoneX’s screen angled to face him. He mirrored the action. 

They regarded each other in silence. Toilet wasn't piloting X right now, he wasn't emoting with X’s arms, or talking through X’s speakers. He saw the dark, ominous wallpaper. It contrasted well with the bright red of the X, he could see the intent behind the design. 

It was fitting, for a killer robot. He wondered how often others looked at MePad and thought about how his impassive voice and flat face were perfect for his own role. 

Flashy enough to look interesting as he displayed visuals, subdued enough to not get in the way. The role Cobs planned for him must've been similar, the way he slotted into place. 

They were alike, in a lot of ways. Himself and X. They were both cogs in a machine, disposable. The issue MePad was running into was that he was In Charge of This Whole Mess. 

Built to be a follower, forced to be a leader. He wasn’t sure if he had it in him.

Everyone was relying on him, whether they knew it or not. Was that self-centered, or was this situation just him-centered?

MePhoneX reached out and… Patted? MePad’s side?

Tablets didn’t bluescreen in the computer-sense, but it was a good comparison to what he was experiencing trying to process this.

Then the door slammed open, the bang of it against the wall chased by a voice.

“There you are!” MePhone4 stood, looking very harried, in the entryway, “MePad, what’s happening? And who’s that!?!”

“MePhoneX, sir.” He glanced at X again, but he’d drawn his limb back and returned to steering. Huh.

MePhone4 approached. “My other questions!”

“We’re stealing Steve Cobs’ ship so he cannot use it to hurt anyone.” Toilet’s idea, he added silently. Then he remembered MePhone wasn’t as vitriolic towards Toilet these days, he could say it out loud. He’d wait until MePhone had decided it was a good idea, though.

“Well, first of all, it’s my ship. He stole it from me. Second.” He paused, stopping to stare at X. “No, we’re coming back to this. X? MePhone… X? What, did he run out of numbers?”

“I believe he meant X as in the roman numeral for 10.” Had there been a 9? The last ones that were on the show, even briefly, were 6 and 6+. 

“That sucks, we’re ignoring that. Are you, like. Cool?” He looked to X for an answer.

But, MePad supplied it. “MePhoneX does not speak. I am fairly certain he is just an empty shell with enough programming to follow commands and not much else.” He had been startled a moment ago when X had reached out to touch him, but there was probably a simple explanation for that.

“Eugh.” MePhone shivered and leaned away, “So did it come with the ship, or-?”

It was a little more complicated than that, but, “Yes, X knows how to drive.” 

“Okay. Great, now that we've got that filled away…” He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, and let it out. “Ah. Whew. What is going on around here?”

MePad glanced around, first at the interior of this stolen ship, next towards MePhone's replacement, then at his former boss who had died several times today, out the window at the endlessly stretching sea and sky, and finally back to MePhone4. “Please clarify what troubles you.”

“You do!” He exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger. “I leave you alone for two minutes, you tell everybody the thing that we just agreed to keep under wraps, and you- Risk your life? Go to MeCloud? Steal a boat?!”

“Yes, well-”

“No MePhone, you can't confront Cobs, think of the contestants!” MePhone’s impression of him was terrible, though in this situation he thought it was maybe supposed to sound mocking. “Was it a cover for your plan? How did you know he'd have this?” 

“Because-”

“And- Okay, you steal the boat. You don’t tell me like a normal person that you’re home! You just waltz in, teleport me onto the boat without asking, and abandon me to get yelled at by Tea Kettle. Like I get that we're not working together anymore. Sure, whatever, you go behind my back to do your own plan. But, MePad, your own plan is crazy!”

He waited a couple seconds to see if MePhone would actually let him speak this time. “I could have answered any of those questions individually, but at this point I am not sure which part to respond to.” 

MePhone made a sound similar to a real tea kettle. Like contestant, like host. 

“I can try and summarize, I am sorry to have distressed you so much, sir.” He still didn’t agree with the way MePhone operated when it came to his contestants, but he also understood. And it wasn’t like he wanted to harm him back. Also, seeing MePhone die had dulled some of that. “No answer I will give can sound reasonable, because the situation I am in is bizarre. Sir, I am in a time loop. And, in this loop I am trying to steal the ship to see if that keeps us all safe.”

MePhone looked at him. No, he examined him, as though MePad’s face could explain things better than his voice. He heavily doubted that.

Taco appeared. The door didn't slam open this time, because it was already open. She just deactivated her bowtie, leaning casually against the doorframe. “So, you're still claiming that?”

She was doing a good job playing at nonchalance, but he knew she was worried. “I am, because it's true.” 

“You told Taco before you told me?” MePhone looked genuinely hurt. “MePad, I know you quit, but-”

“One moment, it is getting crowded in here.” He turned their pilot, “Goodbye, X, please keep steering us to the nearest landmass. Thank you.” 

“Are you ignoring-” MePhone started to shout as they teleported away, reappearing in a featureless, padded room. “-me? Weh?”

He squinted at their surroundings. Taco, meanwhile, observed with a veneer of disinterest as she found a new, somewhat plush wall to lean against. 

“My continued apologies, I did not realize this room was quite so desolate. This is where Suitcase and Knife are held when we capture them. I was correct in my assumption that no matter how many inhabitants the ship possessed, here would be empty.” MePad chose his own spot and sat down. He’d been doing a lot of rushing today, and it was soft enough. 

MePhone didn’t sit. “I wish you would stop stalling, MePad.” 

He resisted the urge to insist he wasn’t stalling. “Ask me one question at a time and I will try answer it, sir.”

Taco eyed them both with an intensity that gave away her façade of disinterest. MePhone huffed. “You think that you’re in a time loop?”

“Yes. Either I am, or I have been hallucinating for what feels like two weeks.” Technically this could still be a warped version of life flashing before his eyes, but it hurt too much not to take it seriously. There was no real reason to doubt his senses. “Unlike most others, I can prove it to you.”

“Yeah, go ahead.” He said with a tight expression.

“Oh this, I’m interested to hear.” Taco chimed in with a little smile.

“Then, please forgive me for my bluntness.” He said back, returning the smile as best he could. “You, MePhone4, have an alien power within you. It is what gives you your ability to create objects, inanimate and not. That is the reason our creator puts more effort into recapturing you than seems strictly necessary. You cannot run away from him forever, because he will always want that power back.” 

He didn’t see Taco’s reaction, eyes focused exclusively on the way MePhone's eyebrows created a wrinkle between them.

“How do you know about that?” It wasn’t even a question, it sounded like a demand.

“I am in a time loop. The first time, Mister Toilet noticed you were still hiding something. Another time, several other times, Mister Fan told me his theories. Recently, 3GS told me a story.”

He flinched with his whole body. “You don’t mean-?!”

Taco raised a hand, the other pushing her off from the wall to stand up straight. “Forgive me for my, ahem, own confusion. I feel I may have missed a bit of necessary context.”

“It doesn’t matter.” MePhone’s fists clenched, shoulders shaking. “She doesn’t need to be here for this.”

“She is my friend, I want her here.” He looked to her, “You are a living object that he made-”

“Shut up!” He demanded.

“-as is everyone-”

“Shut up!” He demanded again, shoving MePad as he did. 

But, MePad just fell harmlessly on the plush surface and kept going, “-except Toilet, Cobs, M-”

In a show of maturity, MePhone started holding his volume down button, chanting “SHUT UP!” to drown him out. MePad, in retaliation, started trying to kick him back, but his legs couldn't quite reach. 

Taco began trying to pull 4 off, which dislodged him just enough that his own internal volume raising made some headway. “-3gs who is aliVE. AND I MET!” 

The effect of both yelling at the top of his voice to be heard and suddenly growing louder caused them all to recoil. MePhone suddenly gave up, slumping against him. “... Did he remember me?”

MePad quickly clicked back down to the middle range he preferred, “I am not certain, but he wanted to save your life with me nonetheless.”

“His loss.” Taco muttered, but not quietly enough to avoid being shoved off of 4’s back. 

“I- I hoped he'd-” He curled his arms closer to himself, “I don't know what I hoped. 3GS is the… The gray one? From- I looked it up, once, who was before me in the lineup-”

He put gentleness in his voice. “Yes, that is him. He is capable of being coherent, though not when startled. He is kind, and brave, and charming, though self-critical. I want to get him out of there.”

MePhone took in breath, and shuddered on the exhale. “Three of us. That would make three of us.” 

Yes, he could imagine how beautiful a true meeting between the three of them would be. MePhones on either side of Mecintosh, cradling each other, the ones that made it. Three of them. “My plan is not finished, I cannot promise you this attempt will succeed. But your happy ending is my goal. Both of you. All of you.”

“You need to learn to stop obfuscating so much, though I know I'm one to talk.” Taco said, his view of her mostly blocked by MePhone who was essentially cuddling him at this point. “For instance, the way you phrased that implies that you are not part of us.”

“If it works out such that I may have a continued existence-” 

MePhone started clumsily thumping a hand against his side, “Shut up, you're living. If I'm alive you're alive.”

“Sir, if I may-”

Taco came into focus, arms crossed. “Ah-ba-ba-ba. Clarify. Why if?”

This was troublesome, he was beginning to see bringing her with them to be a mistake. “You are taking the truth of your creation very well.”

“And you are dodging the question. Continued existence, clarify.” 

“Neither of you like it when I talk about this, I did not mean to bring it up.” MePhone didn’t stop thumping him, and Taco didn’t back down. He sighed, he wasn’t getting out of this conversation without being honest. “I am in a time loop. In the first iteration of today, I perished. It is a fluke that I am getting additional chances, and it would be unrealistic to expect me to survive.”

MePhone finally sat up, switching to gripping MePad’s side tightly. Though, it was Taco that said, “I don’t think it is. You identified the cause of your death, clearly. If you’re not insane, we now know how to avoid it.”

If it were only that simple. Technically he hadn’t died in the exact same way, but, “My primary focus is facilitating a scenario in which Cobs no longer holds power over you.”

“And not not dying?” MePhone shook him, “I hate Cobs, don’t get me wrong, I hate him. Focus on not dying!”

“It’s not something… Terminal, is it?” Taco asked with a grimace. He saw out of the corner of his eye, the way fear flashed across MePhone’s face.

“No, no, I am physically functioning fine. As well, Mister Toilet has made it clear that despite my looming obsolescence he will still love me-”

“What?!” He was shoved against the padded wall again.

MePad sighed again. “Would you please stop manhandling me?”

“Would you please make any sense?” MePhone threw his arms in the air, “Did I forget to pause you? Did you go insane? You’re telling me you’ve died, and you don’t even seem to care! Where is your self-preservation?! And WHEN DID YOU START DATING TOILET?”

“Personally, I thought he was already dating Toilet.” Said Taco. “Does this mean you’re single?”

“I am single.” He confirmed, and Taco nodded with a thoughtful look on her face. “Toilet simply offered that I could be his roommate, in the event that I survive.”

“WHY WOULDN’T YOU SURVIVE?” MePhone continued to yell, inches away from his face. MePad thought it a shame that in this position he couldn’t reach his buttons to turn him down.

He hated this conversation, he hated that he kept having to have this conversation. He hadn’t changed his mind, though. “If I must choose between the two of us, I would rather die by our creator’s hands than watch it happen to you. I know it would be optimal to both survive, but…”

He cut himself off as a shadow fell across MePhone’s face.

Taco raised a hand with a tight, predatory smile. “Excuse me, inferring from what you just said, have you had to choose between the two of you?”

It was definitely a mistake to bring her. “Yes, several times.”

“As I thought. Follow-up question, is that why you were in so much pain earlier that you couldn’t stand up?”

She was too smart for her own good! “I was already dying, so I made the decision that I would like to take Cobs down with me. We fell to our deaths, it was very painful and I do not recommend it.”

“Very painful, you say. As opposed to?” He felt like this was a trap, but he had data on deaths now.

He studied where the wall met the ceiling, trying to get his thoughts in order. "Both explosions and falling, I have a bit of a skewed view on, since I have always been stabbed as well while experiencing them them. However, an explosion was the most intense death, I think. Being stabbed through is never pleasant, it is a slow death, which gives you more time to dwell on the pain. Drowning is best, it is what I choose when I have to pick.” 

When he looked back down at her, Taco looked aghast. “You pick drowning?”

“Technically I do not need to breathe, so it is not drowning in the dictionary sense. But, I am electronic, so what usually happens is water seeps in, something short circuits, and I wake up perfectly-”

“Stop.” Said MePhone. It wasn’t loud, but the word had intensity. 

MePhone stood up, grabbed one of MePad’s sides, and started dragging him. MePad scrambled to his feet as he pulled him out the door and down the hall. 

They passed Soap and Mic, who stopped their own conversation to watch. Embarrassing.

He caught a glimpse, before they turned a corner, of Taco sidling up beside them, clearly ditching this mess to gossip with them. That was for the best. He would do the same thing if he could.

Then MePhone opened a door and shoved him inside. MePad stumbled, but managed to stay upright. “Sir?”

The steely set of MePhone’s brow and tight, thin line of his mouth didn’t give anything away. MePad glanced around, finding that this was… A bedroom. There was a desk on one side and bunk bed on the other, the lower one significantly larger than the upper one. The walls were navy blue and covered in plastic stars. He’d seen this room before, last time, when he’d been looking for Toilet.

He watched him walk over to the desk and run a gentle hand along its top. He couldn’t see what kind of expression he wore. 

The silence stretched, uncomfortable. He kept expecting MePhone to say something.

“Why are we here?” He finally managed to ask.

“This is our room. If he hadn’t- I made-” He sighed. “This is our room.” 

He looked, again, at the bunk beds. A big lower one and a little upper one. “Oh.” 

“I wanted to give you a good life. He controlled so much of me, but you had a chance, you know? To not have to worry about him.”

“Unfortunately, I think he is inevitable for us.” 

His hands balled into fists. “Then why are we running away?”

“I’m not sure.” He looked down at the floor. Unlike everything else, stark and sterile, this room had dark wood flooring. There was more life in these few square feet than the rest of the ship combined. “This plan is bad, I acknowledge that. I did not convince everyone to come with us, and I am certain he will chase us.”

“What if I just… Gave in? I’d- I’d do it. If it meant you got to live.” 

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why?” MePhone whirled around, gesturing with his hands again. “You’re my best friend, you were my only friend! I get that you see this as a professional relationship, MePad, I haven’t pushed you to be touchy-feely.”

“I thought we were professional for your sake.” When he’d first booted, he sure hadn’t said you’re my best friend, welcome to the world.

“MePad, when I woke up, you were all I had!” He saw, now, that MePhone was crying. He didn’t bother to wipe the tears away and so they streamed down his face. “You can’t die for me. I won’t let you die for me.”

“But, if I manage to reunite you with 3GS, you won’t need me anymore.” He would relate with him better, which will take care of the emotional aspect. “I understand your attachment, I care about you as well, but you ran Season 3 perfectly well alone.”

“This isn’t about the show! 3GS isn’t you! Nobody can be you!”

The ship lurched. They both looked at each other, eyes wide.

The boat overcorrected and MePad’s top banged against the bunk behind him. 

A moment later, MePhoneX burst through the door, sliding along the hardwood. He looked to 4, flinched, and turned toward MePad. 

“X?” He watched as the clawed arms started waving around, then pointedly gesturing towards the door. 

“We're in the middle of something!” Objected MePhone.

X was being a Toilet panicking amount of expressive. “This looks serious. No worries, sir, I am sure I will cause you to yell at me about this again soon, we can resume then.”

“Wh- MEPAD!” 

X ran back out, and MePad followed as quickly as he could. Every time the boat turned one way or the other, he found himself dinging a wall. As he passed the padded cell, he caught a glimpse of Taco with Soap, Mic, and… Paper inside. Ah, smart.

He supposed an emergency situation would get you over your fear of Taco. 

X led him to the boat-steering-room and MePad felt a bit foolish, since he knew that’s where X was supposed to be. The problem was immediately clear. A MePhoneX, screen shattered, was doing its best to fight off Trophy as he tried to take the controls. 

He spared a glance at the one that had gotten his attention. He was right, there were two. That wasn’t important right now.

The task of “stopping Trophy from crashing the ship,” unfortunately, did not pan out. He was insistent that “he could handle it” so long as “this dweeb stopped bothering him.”

They shortly collided with the sea.

And then he woke up.

Chapter Text

He went from a choppy awareness of the boat’s glass shattering and the water that soon engulfed them to, of course, standing in the hallway. 

Huh. Jarring, but not that bad. 

He was pretty sure neither Taco nor MePhone would appreciate that insight from him. 

Back to it. There was something he should've done a long time ago. 

He teleported down to the intercom and pressed the button. “Hello, everyone, it is MePad. I would like to ask a small favor. That is, to please take a moment to look around and note where you are physically standing, right as I'm saying this. What room are you in? Who are you spending time with? It is just information to make my life more convenient, and I will be pleased if you tell me this, when you see me next.” He stopped pressing it.

No, wait. He started again. “Apologies, I forgot to say. Mister Toilet, please cease your current actions. In addition, I recommend that any compatriots of mine that might be currently mourning, or panicked out of their mind, or currently in a training simulator to take a step outside. It is beautiful today.”

There. Now he was done.

He followed his own advice and stepped outside. He kept walking until he found some flowers, and he laid down in them to watch the clouds move through the sky. 

The plan with the ship was good, in some ways, but utterly underbaked in others. Yes, removing it from Cobs’ custody was for the best. Thank you, Toilet. No, he didn't know enough about the contestants and their version of today to convince all of them to come aboard. The interpersonal drama, to start. He never would've guessed that Paper and OJ would be fighting. They seemed joined at the hip, usually. 

He felt silly for not having made a complete tally of who actually made it onto the boat. He wasn't even entirely sure who he'd failed! Furthermore, the fact that the two ghosts were tethered here…

But then he thought back to the way it ended. Trophy becoming confident he was good at something and should be in charge of it was fairly typical. He could try and detain him somehow, perhaps in the padded room? But, at that point he might as well start kidnapping everyone. Ideally he'd hold no one against their will. 

There was the big unknown, in all of this. The one he'd been ignoring. MePhoneX. He'd presumed it was nothing more than a hollow shell run by a computer program, a more streamlined version of his own concept. Just enough to do a job. 

It'd done lots of things without directly being told. That he could excuse, and he had been. But, X reached out to MePad as he worried about something. Something was going wrong with the ship, and X came to find MePad.  

That was too sophisticated. If X was a good little program, why would it go to anyone but Cobs when there was an error? Why would it listen to somebody like MePad at all? MePad wasn’t an operator, he was a parallel system.

It was too much to continue ignoring. Last time he’d rushed and everyone crashed into the ocean and died. That was bad. By every definition. 

… The sky was beautiful today. The shapes of the clouds were dynamic and interesting. He was sure he’d flown right by some of them. He had looked up at the sky countless times “today.” It hadn’t gotten tiresome, yet. 

Would this day be all he would ever know? How long until he started to think of his life before as an illusion? Maybe it was too early to be worrying about things like that, but he still didn’t understand why he was here. Why him? Why MePad and not MePhone? Taco? Mecintosh? 

Did something pick him? Was this by random chance? In stories, time loops were used to teach someone a lesson, or give someone a chance to right a wrong. He hoped that he could save everyone. That was the goal MePad was working towards, but that wasn’t necessarily the cause.

If the villain of this story needed to die, he’d already succeeded.

So, maybe the problem to solve wasn’t what he thought it was. Even still, he knew the best person wasn’t himself. That begged the question: Who would he pick? If MePad was deciding, if he had the power to set everything up and just let somebody take care of the problem as he saw it, who would he pick to figure it all out? 

There was an argument to be made that it should be Knife and Suitcase, since they were the final competitors in MePhone’s game. The best of the best.

By that logic, OJ, too, would be a good pick. As well, whoever won Season 3, and their runner-up. Taco would be a good choice, she was smart, driven, and had come in second place in her competition. It would give her a chance to redeem herself in the others’ eyes, too. That would be narratively satisfying.

But, MePad? He was set dressing. What did he have that made him good for this? Some of the contestants trusted him, but not all of them. His teleportation powers gave him a fair amount of speed, but his lack of arms made fighting difficult. Height? He could agree he won in the height department. 

MePhone had said, “Nobody can be you!” He'd shouted it, confidently. What did he see in MePad? How could it stack up to all these vibrant others he knew?

Suitcase would be able to convince everyone to evacuate, if that’s what she believed was best. She was a nervous person, but very likable. If she told him she was in a time loop, he may doubt that it was real, but he would likely trust her “intuition” of danger. 

What was there to do? What was the real problem? What did he need to learn? 

If fate was cruel and twisted and the answer was that he needed to give up and let MePhone die… He’d already failed and let that happen! If Cobs needed to die, he’d succeeded twice. Save the Shimmers from the boat’s weapons? Done! Get 3GS out of the closet? Nearly! He’d spent a day on the beach, discovered an underutilized piece of technology, watched tv. 

What was the answer? The day was beautiful. The circumstances were horrific. The one who remembered was almost definitely the wrong one.

He was honest with himself, right? Should he start polling people to ask what personal issues he should be working through? That couldn’t be it, though, right? This was way too much trouble to go through to make him realize something about himself. 

He'd ask someone later, MePad decided as a shadow fell over his face. It was just who he was hoping to see. 

“MePad!” Toilet exclaimed, waving X’s arms around enthusiastically. “You wanted to see me??”

“Always. Thank you for coming to find me, I think having different visuals while I ponder my situation may be helpful.”

“Sich-e-ation?” MePhoneX cocked to the side, “What's up buddy?”

“It is a little complicated. The long and short of it, as it pertains to you, is that you currently reside on a ship docked at Meeple HQ.”

“Oh, so you've seen it! It's a beaut, yeah? Master ADAM said it was State of the Art! And I get to train in it!”

It was such a shame to have to tell him this, every single time. The alternative was let him go around killing people unknowingly, which basically wasn't an option. “That would be a golden opportunity, but unfortunately, he was lying to you. ADAM works for Steve Cobs, my Creator. He wants to hurt us.” 

Clawed hands covered the area a mouth might go, if Cobs had bothered to include one, “That's terry-bull!” 

“It is.” He agreed, “Luckily, though, I know how to get you to safety.” 

“Wait, would I need to leave the simmy-later? You're not trying to make me fail, right?” He watched MePhoneX pull away a bit, emulating Toilet's nervousness. “I've been trying real hard, ya know!”

“I would never attempt to sabotage you, my friend.” He imagined how different it would look to stare up at Toilet instead, against the blue blue sky. X certainly was more distinct from the clouds that passed behind him. 

“That's true. I trust you explicitly!” He scratched at the top of X’s casing. “So, where do I go?”

“Let me think of how to describe it…” Technically, MePad didn't have a way for Toilet to escape yet. But, he knew a safe place to wait for things to blow over. “MePhoneX, do you have a map of MeCloud?” 

Toilet looked back and forth, then down at his hands. A few moments later, deep chime emanated from him and a stark white map showed up on screen, underneath the X. 

“Oh, thank you. That is perfect, let me just-” MePad sat up, careful to telegraph his movements so they didn't bump screens.

MePhoneX sat down across from him and he examined the map. Rooms were labeled differently than in the physical version from the junk closet. 

“Can you see the map, Mister Toilet?” 

“Yup!” Came his voice, tinny through the speakers. “Mister Phone X is showing me! What a big building, you're saying I'm in here somewhere?”

“Yes, you are docked up at the area labeled helipad. What I would like you to do is disembark from the boat, go inside, down two flights of stairs, and into the storage closet.” 

MePhoneX tilted to the side, “Why? Seems like an odd place to place a fellow.”

A cruel place to put someone, actually. But, this was like hunkering for a storm. It would be safe until this blew over. “There are two people who live there, and no one ever visits them. They are kind, but sad. You will need to be gentle with them.”

Toilet perked up. “Friends of yours?”

“Yes, Mecintosh and MePhone3GS. They will not remember me, but you may be honest and tell them that you are in danger due to Cobs and that you need to hide with them.” It was possible that Toilet would alarm them and have to sit there in silence, but he hoped he would bring them joy.

“How'd they forget a guy like you? I don't think I'd ever be able to forget my pal MePad!” 

And MePad would never forget this kindness, the warmth he felt around his best friend. “It is complicated. Would you forgive me if I explained it another time? I want to spend time with you, to speak with you, but more than that I want you to be safe.”

MePhoneX started nodding vigorously, “You're right! Okay, out the boat, down two flights, storage room with ya friends in it! Make a good impression by being all gentle and sweet and nice! Have I got it or what?”

He was tempted, just for a moment, to reply in a teasing manner. “You have it. Please go carefully, and know that I look forward to seeing you again.”

“Of course!” MePhoneX leaned forward to give him a big hug, “You’re my favoritest ever, I love you!!!” 

Then X leaned back and MePad saw him droop as Toilet stopped puppetting him. He heard a door squeak through MePhoneX’s speakers, and knew that they were alone. The… Three of them?

Now was the time. He’d been putting it off for so long, acknowledging what was going on here. X looked impassively back at him, still as a statue. He could probably sit here for hours without asking and there wouldn’t be any consequences. But, that wouldn’t be right.

“MePhoneX. I have begun to wonder… Are you just a hollow shell, or are you a person?” He’d been assuming it was the former for so long, but counterevidence just kept appearing.

If this was a program, it was one that was incredibly good at intuiting intent from vague instructions. It was one that, for whatever reason, recognized MePad as someone worth asking for help. It was one that… Knew when to comfort someone.

MePhoneX sat still for a remarkably long time, and he began to wonder if he had been reading too much into things. Then, X shrugged.

MePad blinked. 

And he thought about how he had treated X, so dismissively! “I am so sorry for talking as though you were not here on so many occasions! You would not remember this, but I am in a time loop, and this is the first time I realized- You do not need to forgive me!” 

X tilted to the side a little, and MePad thought about the fact that Toilet didn’t have any arms. “When someone puppets you, can you still move?”

X nodded, paused, and made a so-so motion with one hand.

So intuitive! Toilet had said. MePad was so stupid. Cobs hadn’t managed to make a MePhone who wasn’t alive, he’d just removed the outward signs of life! It was so obvious, he’d been doing that generation after generation. Removing eyes, the windows to the soul. Removing a mouth, so that- Well he wasn’t actually sure about that one.

“Can you speak?”

X shook no.

MePad was going to make Cobs’ next death even more painful than the last. X flinched away from him, and MePad realized he must’ve started glaring. “Apologies! All around, you have my apologies. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

MePhoneX stared back at him, and MePad waited. The silence stretched. A breeze rustled the flowers. X didn’t move. 

He realized that he’d asked a question that didn’t have a yes/no answer. Ah. He hadn’t met anyone incapable of speech before, he wasn’t sure what to do.

“How about this…” He stood up, “I am about to go talk to the contestants. If you’d like, you may come with me. If not, feel free to roam. As Toilet is hiding, you no longer need to deactivate anyone. If you do not wish to accompany me, the island is your oyster.”

He started walking away. Alternative forms of communication… Asking everyone where they’d been when he used the intercom would give him something to do as he mulled this over. 

He noticed, only a few moments later, that X was following him. 

“Ah, we appear to be heading in the same direction. I accept your company.” X didn’t outwardly respond. He supposed he hadn’t said anything that necessitated a response. 

He observed the day. It was still beautiful. The grass was warm, as he liked it. Flowers were in bloom. There was no precipitation, and there wouldn’t be. 

There were a lot of things to think about, now that he knew X was a person. He imagined his life must be similar to 3GS’, to have off time but not have anywhere to spend it. MePhone had made this island very well, or at least he had improved it to be quite picturesque. It was a good place to have a vacation, if you didn’t already live here. 

They approached the hotel, and MePad stopped right outside the door. “Just to make sure, you do not have any desire to deactivate contestants, yes? You were just doing that because it was what Toilet was supposed to be doing?”

X looked back at him.

It was nearly a yes or no question, but he’d said too much. Oops. “Sorry, rephrase. Do you want to hurt my friends?”

X shook no.

“That is ideal, I will not need to stop you.” Technically X could be lying, but he could very easily overpower MePad and hadn’t so far. Without a directive, X seemed fairly passive. “Alright, feel free to split off from me at any time.”

MePad opened the door to the party, electronic music washing over him like a wave. He stepped inside, noting that Test Tube, Fan, and Paintbrush weren’t here. Likely on their way to Purgatory Mansion already. Cabby was sipping a drink by the door. He’d seen her in conversation with others a couple times at this party, but he supposed she could have a moment to herself if she wanted it.

“Ah, MePad! And someone new?” Cabby smiled at them, opening a drawer to pull out a… File? “That wouldn’t happen to be another killer robot?”

“No, do not worry about MePhoneX.” Until Cobs arrived. Hm, he should do something about that. Maybe saying yes would’ve been more accurate. “I came to ask, where were you when my message-”

“By the refreshment stand with YinYang. Everyone else you see here was here, plus Test Tube and her friends.”

“That is… Remarkably helpful.” He readjusted his weight curiously, “Wait, Miss Cabby, how do you know my name? I do not believe I have yet introduced myself.”

“You were on Season 2. The real question is how do you know mine.”

The answer was time loop. He wasn’t just going to say that, though. “I have been making an effort to learn more about Season 3 as my time permits.”

“Ah, well, you’ve come to the right place.” She started rolling further into the room, motioning for him to follow. He obliged, realizing as he did that X had either wandered off or gone invisible. Possibly both?

They ended up in the hallway and she put herself against a wall, “I’m a bit of an expert. What do you know so far?”

“MePhone paused Season 2 to make 3. Some previous contestants were invited, others were not. There was you, YinYang, Tea Kettle, a spoon, a candle, Paintbrush I think, someone named Goo?”

Cabby started rifling through herself, “Good start. Returning contestants were Nickel, Balloon, OJ, YinYang, Test Tube, Fan, Paintbrush, and Box. Candle, Goo, Silver Spoon, Clover, Blueberry, Bot, Lifering, The Floor, and I were all new.” She pulled out a file labelled III and held it up.

“Interesting. Test Tube mentioned Bot and showed concern. She does not form new connections easily, so I am curious.” 

Cabby smiled and nodded. “Bot is a sweetheart, very difficult to dislike. Kind and empathetic, but not afraid to speak up. Good communicator.” 

She pulled out another file and opened it, revealing a page of cute drawings. Stretchy limbs, a smiling face, some sort of bat thing doodled in the margins. “I see that MePhone decided to have another nonbinary contestant after Paintbrush.”

Cabby shook her head, “No, they figured themself out mid-season. He didn’t invite them on Invitational, either. Entirely out of his hands, aside from the fact he didn’t kick them out.”

He... Huh? But the contestants were made by MePhone! Was Bot a prototype that found their way into filming? Odd. “Well, I am glad Test Tube made new friends?”

Cabby started laughing.

“I feel as though I am constantly one step behind, in this conversation.”

“And yet, I have no legs!” She closed Bot’s file, slipped it into her drawer, and closed it. “Test Tube made a friend, alright. Constructed is the word you’re looking for, however.”

His eyes widened. A contestant not made by MePhone? A contestant made by a contestant. “I understand now why she would be worried for their safety.” 

Would they disappear, when MeLife did? If Test Tube made them out of parts MePhone had generated… But, if they weren’t made by MeLife….

Unplugging MeLife might have any number of effects on someone like that. 

“Glad to catch you up! Anything else you’d like to know? I have my own questions for you.”

He felt as though he was waterlogged. “I thank you for the information, but I think I need to take my leave. I would be happy to speak to you another time?”

“Sure, run along!” She waved him away, “Now that the shows are over, I’m sure we’ll see each other around.”

“Definitely.” He left to go find MePhone’s closet. He’d left in the middle of being yelled at, which he didn’t exactly want to resume, but…

He teleported inside instead of opening the door, getting a little thrill as MePhone jumped. “MePad?” It came out squeakier than usual.

“MePhone. Where were you when you heard my message?”

MePhone opened his mouth, but was interrupted by an incoming call message. Right. He declined it, eyes not meeting MePad’s as he slumped. “I thought you knew. Panicked out of my mind.”

“You are correct, I could have guessed.” MePad sat down across from him. 

The door behind them opened and then closed again, but as MePad looked he saw no one. Huh.

He looked back at MePhone, but he didn’t look like he wanted to speak. He just stared back at him, tired. He didn’t have any anger to energize him, so he just looked… Exhausted. “Sir, why have you ignored my advice to see the sky?”

“It's bad advice! He’s coming to get us!” He threw his hands up, “Go outside? It's beautiful today? MePad, I don't wanna die.”

“I do not want you to die either, sir. But, I am in a time loop. It is a waste for you to worry, since I am handling it.” Not that he felt confident in handling it. He, in fact, did not want to handle it. But MePhone stressing out in here wasn't helping. 

There was silence. MePad could swear he felt a looming presence over his shoulder. MePhone stared at him until he vibrated with the force of another call, which he also declined. That seemed to shake him out of it. 

“Let me guess. You kept trying to talk to the contestants, but they were frozen in place. That's not a time loop.” MePhone sighed, “I… Made the contestants. So I can control… How fast time is for them? I guess? But I didn't make you. But, Cobs turned off my powers somehow!”

That actually wasn't a bad guess, and it… explained a few things. “No, I am calling it a time loop because I have been living the same day over and over.”

“Because you're crazy?”

This wasn't going anywhere. MePad stood up. “You were trying to express in the last loop that you cared about me. I care about you as well. Please do not keep sulking here.”

MePhone, glaring, stuck his tongue out. 

MePad turned and left, through the door this time. He didn't close it behind him, but someone else did. He let out a long, deep sigh. “That was MePhone4, I no longer work for him but he is just as annoying as when I did. Feel free to keep following me, X.”

He didn't hear him or see him, but he had a feeling X was taking him up on it.

He continued walking through the hotel, asking stragglers he met to convey their origin point. 

As he did, he rotated through thoughts. The real solution to the time loop? What would become of Bot, if MeLife was unplugged as it was every loop? How to best communicate with X?

Most of the contestants were at the party. He was happy to find no one where Taco usually resided. Maybe she'd actually followed his advice. 

He took the elevator back down, thinking and thinking and finding no conclusions. 

How did he end this? How would he ever convince Suitcase and Knife to take a break? Were there other, less painful ways than drowning? He was so tired. 

MePhone wanted to surrender if it would save MePad. He didn't understand how, even after learning that 3gs could be there for him instead, MePhone still wanted MePad too. 

He exited the hotel invisibly. He hadn't really learned anything at all. 

MePad walked and walked, past the mansion, past the lake where he'd first drowned. He kept walking until he arrived at the cave where he'd first awoken. He turned off his invisibow and wasn't that surprised when X appeared next to him.

He sat down, back against the stone. “Thank you for you patience. I think I just wanted to be useful, whether or not there really was anything of use to be done there.”

MePhoneX stared down at him for a few long moments before settling down across from him. MePad tried very, very hard not to think, as he watched X’s legs flex, about the time they'd been used against Toilet. Also, the horrible realization that X had died many, many times and MePad hadn't known to care. 

He shook himself, “I would like to get to know you.” This reminded him of happier times, such as meeting 3gs. When he had been muted, he pulled up a textbox and typed. That had worked fairly well.

Almost as though he'd read his mind, a portion of X’s wallpaper was covered by a speech bubble. He sat thoughtfully for a moment, tapping a clawed hand against his screen before seeming to settle on something. 

No sooner did the letter H appear on his screen than X started convulsing. MePad’s heart stopped, frozen as he watched and realized he knew exactly how that felt. 

“Erase it!” He managed, and just an instant later the letter was gone, leaving behind an empty text box and person with trembling arms. “I am so, so sorry. He does that to me sometimes, with my teleportation and wifi. It is a terrible feeling.”

It looked like it took effort to sit upright. MePad teleported them both, switching their positions so X was against the wall. 

“Is that any better?” 

A long pause, then X raised a hand to nod as though it was a head. 

People spoke with their hands and feet sometimes, didn't they? But, looking at X’s stiff, inflexible extremities… 

And MePad had thought it was difficult to express himself with a waveform style mouth! Not that he had much to express. He was sure they'd find a way around it, but the fact that Cobs had deliberately removed both speech and writing… 

X reached out and patted MePad's side, and he saw it for what it was this time. Comfort. He leaned into it. “Thank you.” 

He waited very patiently and was rewarded by an ominous bwom noise. X shook himself, as though frustrated, and made a similar noise. This one was a little louder, which didn’t appear to be what he was going for.

“It is alright, we will find a way. Have you tried pen and paper?”

X shook the arm not currently touching MePad no. 

It was a bad suggestion, he didn’t have pen and paper. But he did have… Himself! MePad pulled up an on-screen keyboard. He made it as large as possible so the keys would be easy to click. “Unless you want to try and find a stick to use at the beach, or rifle through drawers at the hotel, let us attempt to use me.”

X hesitantly reached out and clicked the H. They both paused for a moment, waiting for a jolt to punish the behavior, but nothing happened. 

Progress! Communication!

X kept typing, letter after letter appearing on his screen, and MePad began to think about what he wanted to ask. What were MePhoneX’s goals? What did he like to be called? How could he make it up to him for ignoring him so often? For speaking to Toilet as though X wasn’t there?

He was pulled from his thoughts by a hand tapping his side, and he saw that it was a… Full paragraph! He had only expected a couple words, but if this was the first time he’d ever had an outlet…

“I will read this aloud.” MePad cleared a throat he did not have. “Hello, I am MePhoneX. I do not mind being addressed in any way. My goal is to make Father happy.”

X held his hands, clasped, in his lap.

“By your father, do you mean… Steve Cobs?” A nod. He reached out again, stopping just shy of touching MePad. “Go ahead.”

His hands were gentle as they clinked against his screen over and over, carefully selecting letters. He tried to not pay too much attention to the words until they were done. He had a feeling that he, verbose as he was, would ask too much too fast. Patience. 

X pulled back again, and MePad took that as his cue to read. “He would prefer being called Cobs, but he cannot read my mind, and so he is Father. He made me to please him.”

A sinking feeling, a horrible one. How many times had MePhoneX died trying to please Cobs? If the other one died, was this one okay? Would this one be safe? “He… Does not care about you, X. You will die and he will not shed a tear.”

X nodded. There wasn’t a face to have an expression, but there was no outward flinch away from this terrible truth. 

“To him, you are just a tool. A stepping stone.”

X nodded again, the same way. This was not news to him.

“Why do you not care? You are being used in the most strict, dictionary sense of the word.”

Now MePhoneX reached out to explain himself. MePad had to focus very firmly on studying his wallpaper to avoid blurting out more questions, and to avoid trying to respond early to half a message. 

X pulled away. MePad… Didn’t read the next one aloud. It said, “You’ll die for your brother. It’s the same. We’re tools to help them be happy.”

MePad stood up. It was rude, childish, to stand up to feel bigger. “That's different.” He turned away, looking towards a colorful mountain. A purple one. 

It wasn't the same. First of all, MePhone didn't consider them to be siblings. 

Except - he'd always been enthusiastic about hiding his true feelings about things. When he'd claimed, in their room, that he wasn't touchy-feely for MePad's sake… Certainly, he was lying, it was for his own sake as well. But, then...

He sighed and sat back down, finding MePhoneX in the exact same position, waiting for him to get over himself. “It is different. To start, he's not my brother.”

X reached out, just as gentle as before, and started typing again. MePad looked at the stone behind him, deep gray with streaks of teal and violet. If he'd been asked to blindly guess which thing hadn't been created be MePhone, he wouldn't have thought of this, here. It was almost too fitting a place for the both of them to have resided.

X leaned back, faster than the other times. The message read, “He can't read minds, either. You can call him your brother.”

MePad shook no, “MePhone is the real person, he gets to decide.”

X didn't need a face to fix him with a look. He didn't yet know what kind of look it was, though. 

“This part isn't important. We… Have our reasons. We can discuss them more later.” MePad knew he was deflecting, but it was fine. There was more pertinent information to get. “When Cobs comes back and wants you to continue tormenting MePhone by deactivating contestants, what will you do?”

Instead of reaching out, X shrugged. He wasn't happy about that. 

“Well, we have a truce right now.” One as fragile enough to be broken by a single command from Steve Cobs. “And I'm still sorry for ignoring you.”

Patience again. Gentle hands tapping out sentences. Toilet was his best friend, he'd spent loop after loop with him, with no thoughts towards X. He sat by the lake with him, he'd walked through the entire hotel with him, he'd reunited with Toilet… and X was there! He'd stolen the ship and asked X to drive it! How much worse was an accidental cruelty than once done deliberately?

X pulled away, shaking MePad from his thoughts and leaving his words behind. “A vessel for someone else's affections... I can think of many worse fates.”

“Oh. I suppose I can, too.” He couldn't smile, but sometimes he tried anyway. 

He had no mirror, and was not vain enough to ask MePhone to photograph him as he tried to practice expressions. But, he knew how. It was natural, preprogrammed into him. Vestigial, maybe. 

X didn’t see himself as someone worth saving yet, but MePad would find a way. What was the point of all this, if he didn’t?

Maybe this was it. Maybe the issue was that he hadn’t known everyone to include in his plans. 

X started to reach out again, but paused. He had only a moment to guess at why.

“MePad? Trying to talk sense into my killer robot, are we?” MePhoneX stood up and MePad dismissed his keyboard, leaning backwards by instinct. There went the warmth. There went the curious, gentle atmosphere they'd been cultivating. “Let me give you a hint. MePhoneX can’t be reasoned with.”

Out of time. The predator was here. “I see no reason not to try.” He managed, proud that his voice did not wobble.

“Such an idealist.” Unlike when Toilet was on the other side, X didn’t emote. He stood stock still, unnaturally so. “It’s funny, watching someone like you be surrounded by terrible people. 4 knows how to make a cast, I’ll give him that!”

“They are doing their best.” Unlike Cobs, who had power and used it to torment others. “I am very proud of them.”

“You would be, wouldn’t you?” He hated that he could imagine the smile that went with that tone, now. He hadn’t spent any real time with Steve compared to the others, but he knew enough to be revolted. “I’m just about to wrap this up, a little behind schedule because of your little heart-to-heart. You could make it up to me.”

MePhoneX offered him a hand. If he could’ve spit in it, he would have. (Or maybe he wouldn't have, it would tarnish on X's hand and not Cobs', after all.) Instead, he said, “In what way?”

“It’s such a long walk to the Hotel from here, just bring me closer. We’ll rope 4 in, and we can get talks started on the future of Inanimate Insanity.” He leaned ever so slightly forward, reaching further into MePad’s space. “I’m sure we can find a spot for you, somewhere in the background.”

He couldn’t stop thinking about how differently he moved like this. With Toilet, X would’ve gestured through that entire thing. He would’ve swayed, and waved, and let personality seep through. This was emptiness. This was pleasing Cobs. 

He wouldn’t teleport X to Hotel OJ just to have everyone killed. It was antithetical to everything he’d been doing. “Unfortunately, I will have to decline at this time.”

“Hm. Suit yourself.” Cobs struck.

Hands collided with screen, a violent echo of his conversation with X. MePad let himself fall into the grass.

It hurt.

Cobs did it again. With each new strike, MePhoneX out a loud BWOM. With each new strike, glass splintered into smaller and smaller shards. He was sure his face was reminiscent of a mosaic.

As MePad stared up, eyes blurry, at the blob of red and black rearing back to hit him a 5th time (maybe 6th, maybe 4th, it hurt too much to keep count) he saw a chunk of it turn white. Then, of all things, X shuttered and fell backwards against the stone wall.

Oh. It must have typed something. How kind, to try and stop. But, it was too late. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought his circuit board was facing the outside. The feeling was sharp in a way he'd never felt, the wrongness of it as jarring as anything else.

It would end, soon. “Thank you for trying.” 

He wasn’t sure if he’d managed to say it aloud, or just if he’d wanted to. Colors blurred together, like an image unwilling to load.

A horrible voice said something, but MePad was too far gone to know what it meant.

And then he woke up.

Chapter Text

He thudded to the floor again just as soon as he was upright. 

Getting beat to death was a bad one, too. Having his innards exposed to the air was novel, though. Not good, but at least it wasn’t getting repetitive.

It was… more drawn out than when it happened to Toilet. He didn't want to think about that. He wasn't sure what else he could focus on, he'd fallen face down this time and he didn't want to think about the texture of the carpet. Or the pain. 

Was Cobs stronger than X? That didn't seem right. Cobs had to be… He didn't want to pull up Wikipedia and end up seeing his face, but he had to be 50 by now, right? Older? Surely a killer robot could do better. The only conclusion he could come to was… MePhoneX didn't want to kill him. 

It didn't change anything, in the end. That attempt at mercy might've actually made his death hurt more. But… It was still someone trying. That was worth something.

MePhoneX can't be reasoned with.  

Once again, Cobs seemed to have underestimated his creations.

All that said, MePad was sore, and tired, and it was nice and dark with his screen laid against the floor like this. If it were any other situation, he might have been able to excuse a nap. 

Unfortunately, on a day like today a 30 minute power nap would lead to OJ’s demise. And then Nickel, and Test Tube, Fan, and Lightbulb. Soap was in there, too, somewhere. YinYang. It had been quite a few loops since he paid attention to the death order, so far he'd just been preventing it all.

He really, really hated today. 

With a deep sigh, and all of his willpower, he stood up and trudged to the elevator.

He realized, as he walked by Pickle’s door, that he'd went the wrong way. Well, it wasn't all bad. 

“Miss Taco?” He peeked in and, sure enough, she was at her station. 

She looked up, slightly startled. “You're back early. And- Have you been running?”

“I am curious what gave you that impression.” 

“You look exhausted. Not that I'm one to judge, at the moment.” She smiled without any humor. “It's just that kind of day, isn't it?”

For different reasons, but, “On that, we agree. I have the most inconsequential favor to ask of you. Would you come with me?”

She looked down at the corpse, stony faced. A couple moments passed and she hopped off the bed. “Can't be any worse than staying around here.”

He turned and started walking in the direction of the elevator, again. But the right way, this time. She caught up almost immediately, despite his longer legs he didn't even need to slow down to accommodate her. He was just lagging that much. 

“So, what's the favor?” She pressed the down button as they reached the elevator doors.

He stepped inside, “You are already doing it. I am feeling too lazy to push the elevator buttons.”

“Ah.” She gestured to the different floors, and he nodded when her hand hovered over 1. She pressed that too. “You'd rather come find me than lift a leg?”

The doors slid shut and the elevator began to shutter. “I have been having a very long day.” 

Taco eyed him, visibly considering something. Then she looked away and let herself wilt a little. “I can understand. Well, at least, one way or another it'll be over soon.”

If only. “What kind of life do you picture for yourself, after?”

“Hm. Beyond the show?” She leaned against the elevator wall, cheek in her hand. “I suppose I'll…”

Before she could find an answer, the elevator dinged and the doors opened. 

He took the lead, they were going to the reception desk. Somehow, in his conversations with Toilet and X he'd never learned where they started the loops. It was a pretty major oversight. “Can you not imagine yourself, outside the parameters you have always known?”

“I haven't always known them.” She puffed up a little, playing at offended, “I had a life before, you know.”

Right. She didn't know yet. He'd known for so long, now, that he had adjusted to the fact everyone around here was… Artificial? Inorganic? Those both sounded so harsh. 

Taco didn't have a past, no before to go back to. She didn't know. 

“Did I say something odd? You're…” She squinted up at him, then gestured vaguely with her hands. 

… He'd stopped walking. Back to it, MePad. “I was simply thinking of my own origin.” A lie.

“I don't envy you that, I haven't formally met that Cobs fellow but he's…” She searched for a word. 

“A megalomaniac billionaire who has threatened an alien species and created device after device, each as disposable as the last, to work for him until they die.” They arrived at the reception area and he approached the desk.

“I was going to say smarmy but, yes. Not exactly the kind of father anyone would want.”

“He is not my father.” MePad said, harsher than he meant to. He turned on the intercom, “Hello, this is MePad. I will keep this brief. Mister Toilet, X, please come to meet me at the reception desk. MePhone4, if you insist on sulking please do it in our cave. It is safer there. Everyone else, thank you for your patience with this message. I wish I had something inspiring today, but I suppose you do not need it as much as I. Talk to you again later.”

When he turned back to Taco, she had her arms crossed. “Care to share with the class what that was?”

She never believed him, and she was dangerously good at prodding at exactly what he didn't want to be thinking about. That said, she was insightful, and did everything she could to help him time and time again. “I will explain when the others arrive.”

“I was meaning to ask about that, too. What sort of a name is X?” 

“A model name.” He said and, as though on cue, MePhoneX appeared before them. “There you are.”

“MePad!” Toilet exclaimed, throwing X’s arms in the air. “You needed me for somethin’? Is it a side objective?”

“That is one way of looking at it.” He found himself relaxing, having them here. “Though, first we should do introductions. I do not think we have all formally met. I am MePad, I formerly worked under MePhone4.”

“Oh! I'm Toilet, and me too! Mister Phone fired me recently…” X sagged a little, but perked right back up, “But Master ADAM put me in this simmy-later, and I'm gonna ace it and get my job back!”

“Taco. Former contestant.” She squinted up at X, “So you're piloting Cobs’ newest MePhone killer?”

X recoiled with Toilet's surprise, “What?! No, I'd never do anything to hurt Mister Phone! I do my best to help him, every day!”

“Mhm. And you happen to be wearing an ominous red phone, derivative of the 4S plan may I add, for the aesthetic?” 

“Red’s the color of passion! If I was working with the nasty corn man, I'd be wearing green.”

He probably should've stepped in earlier, but his friends were all so energetic.  

“Please, let me clarify some things. That is MePhoneX, he is Cobs’ newest-” Son? Would X want to be referred to as his son, if he considered Steve his father? “-creation. Mister Toilet has been tricked, his current mission is designed explicitly to cause as much psychological distress as possible to MePhone.”

“That can't be true!” 

“It is alright, listen. I am in a time loop. I want to guide you to safety, and then to speak with X.” Technically he wanted to lay down and sleep, but preventing deaths was more important. “We were interrupted in the middle of our last conversation.”

“A time loop?” Taco sounded incredulous, as always. “Have you lost it?”

“He's telling the truth!” Toilet leaned X closer, hands waving around in his defense. 

MePad flinched away instinctively. X backed up a step. He felt embarrassed that it helped him relax a smidge. 

It was one death. X had been nothing but gentle, otherwise.

(Except when Cobs used him to push MePad in the water. Except when the disembodied limb had beat Toilet to death. X had killed him last time but- It was fine, he was alive now. He shouldn't have even been alive past the stabbing, nothing that happened mattered yet. Until it stuck, nothing mattered.)

He came back to awareness as something touched his side and he flinched away from that, too. But, it was just Taco, gently reaching out. 

She'd been saying something, but seemed to stop as he reacted this way. As he reacted wrong.

“Apologies.” How to say it, how to explain it? “I am a little broken, running suboptimally, but we are ignoring it, because Toilet is in danger.”

“Broken?! What happened, MePad?” X’s hands nervously clasped each other, displaying Toilet’s hesitance to come closer. 

“My last death was painful, I think that messes with my efficacy. It is a weakness, but-”

Taco scowled up at him, “We're not ignoring this, either you're insane or traumatized.”

He shook himself, he'd made another mistake by bringing Taco along. “We are getting off track, Mister Toilet needs to get to the junk closet and hide until this blows over.” 

“You just claimed to have died. Who knows how to fix you? The scientist? MePhone? Cobs?”

“He was the one that killed me.” He shouldn't have said that, everyone flinched. “It does not matter. What matters is Toilet needs to stop deactivating contestants! But, if he does not hide away in the junk closet with 3GS-”

“He was the one that killed Pickle?!” She whirled to face X, “What is wrong with you?!”

X took another step back, “I really didn't know! I thought I was helping him!”

“Helping him to his grave, more like! Put him back!”

“I don't know how to do that!” 

MePad wanted to jump back in the ocean. How could he mediate this? He could barely keep up with them, and he'd gotten Taco all worked up, and he'd made everyone worry about him by not acting right, and-

He was hit with a flash of inspiration. Drowning was too slow, he'd need to teleport (which took energy) and then wait for the water to seep in (meanwhile Taco would still be yelling at those two.) No, there was a faster way.

MePad opened his power menu and selected Shut Down.  

He realized he should’ve laid down fir-

And then he woke up.

Slowly. Groggily. Horizontally. 

His back was cold, but his legs were dangling. His startup was sluggish, but the room was bright around him.

“-eriously? That's the most basic thing in the book!” Said someone.

“Well, I'm sorry, he was claiming to be broken!” Said another, voice higher than the first speaker.

“Shut up!” Cried a third voice, “He's on! MePad, what happened to you?”

He blinked up at the ceiling, squinting through the light. There was a patch of… Glitter up there. 

He wasn't in his hallway, that was for sure. But he wasn't in the junk closet either. “I am currently trying to figure that out, myself. What's going on?”

MePhone came into view, casting a rectangular shadow over MePad's face. That was nice, he would prefer full darkness though. “Taco came running for help, from me, because you collapsed!”

“My initial scans didn't yield any obvious standard errors for his model.” He recognized, now, that Test Tube was speaking. She appeared at his other side with a clipboard. “Though it is possible your battery is going. Have you experienced any dizziness? Fatigue? Dry mouth?”

Oh, things were starting to clarify. “I do not possess a mouth, and as far as I know my battery-”

“He was complaining of fatigue just before it happened.” Taco piped in, but he couldn't see where she was. “I thought he was just making a lame excuse to get me up and moving, but-”

“You should always take medical symptoms seriously.” Said Test Tube, “Early diagnosis is the key to positive outcomes, you know.”

MePhone’s expression was solem, “I can't make you a new battery right now.” 

“Which is fine, because I do not require one.” MePad started trying to find purchase with his legs, but they were too far from the floor. “I misspoke earlier, I will be fine.”

“You fainted.” Test Tube said, flatly. 

“I did that intentionally, so I apologize for worrying everyone.” Neither of the people looming over him looked soothed at all, and he'd already been honest, so he might as well keep to it. “I am in a time loop, I simply was hoping to reset it by powering off.”

“On top of his fatigue, he phrased it as laziness, he has been saying things like that. Claiming he's died before. Painfully.” He still couldn't see Taco, but the way both MePhone and Test Tube grimaced wasn't great. “There could be some kind of mental issue.”

“That would explain why he made friends with you.” MePhone frowned down to his left, and MePad now had a guess where she was standing. He sighed, “But, it's probably my fault. I, uh, there's something I did that might've had an impact on MePad.”

Test Tube gestured for him to continue.

“Remember Invitational?” He smiled sheepishly as Test Tube nodded. “I might've paused time here so that it wouldn't have an impact on the filming schedule for Season 2. If it negatively impacted MePad, then, uh, I guess I'll need to take responsibility.”

“Wait, wait, what do you mean you paused time? How is that any more believable than his story?” Taco asked.

“I’d demonstrate, but my powers have been on the fritz ever since Cobs started calling me! It's really annoying, I barely had a hold on them in the first place.”

“You could tell them about their origin, sir.” MePad watched MePhone's attention return to him. Nothing that happened right now mattered, but… “I think they deserve to know.”

“That's not important, and- You shouldn't even know about that! What matters is we're not letting him distract us from  fixing you.”

In his agitation, MePhone kept accidentally letting the fact he cared peek through. He'd always cared, it was obvious if MePad really listened. And, in this situation, if MePhone lost MeLife, MePad would be all he had. MePhone didn't know about 3GS, or Mecintosh, or X. No matter what, he wouldn't be alone. 

“You are very sweet, sir, but my priority is keeping everyone alive. Speaking of: where is Mister Toilet?”

“Oh, he went running off saying something about a junk drawer and last requests,” Test Tube waved a hand dismissively, “He left behind his robot, but it doesn't seem to function without a pilot.” 

MePhone looked uncomfortable, and MePad felt the same way. For different reasons, though. For MePhone, it was probably the concept of a hollow shell that looked like you, made like you, but just exactly as much of a puppet as Cobs wanted you to be. For MePad, it was how easy it was to assume that was the case, and how lonely it must be to live with people acting like you weren't alive.

What he said was, “That is MePhoneX. My goal today was to speak with him.”

Another shadow fell across his face as X came to loom over him. He didn't flinch this time. 

“I am in a time loop and last time, our conversation was interrupted. I keep meaning to ask you… There are two of you, can the other one hear me when I speak?”

Someone said something dismissive which he ignored, focusing all of his attention on X. Finally, he shook no, then quickly nodded, but went back to shaking his head. 

The fact he was answering shut the others up. The way he answered intrigued MePad. He pulled up his on-screen keyboard. “Please, clarify.”

Test Tube stepped back and MePad saw her gesture to MePhone to follow, and they both went off to a corner of the lab to whisper to each other. Clearly, she thought she'd come up with something MePad shouldn't hear. Possibly a bad prognosis. Ironically, if she said he was dying soon, he wouldn't push back. He knew that. 

(He could've sworn he heard the word malware. Perhaps the phrase started when. It didn't matter, since they were  ignoring the true information he was giving them, they'd come to inaccurate conclusions.)

X pulled back and MePad read the message to himself. “Hello, MePad. There is only one MePhoneX program. I connect to my other body the way your leg connects to your other leg. If disconnected - resync. Redundancy, so my mission doesn't impact my helpfulness around the house.”

Interesting. He was thinking it might be two separate but similar individuals with a linking program. It was easier, that there was just one. MePad hummed thoughtfully, clearing the message from his screen. 

“Are you really okay with… him touching you?” Taco asked, and he realized she hadn't gone to whisper with the others. “You had a full on panic the first time he stood near you.”

“It is fine, I was struck by-” Bad wording, “-unfortunate memories. I know you do not believe me about the time loop, because I have never managed to convince you. It likely would've been kinder to have set you up with an activity instead of dragging you into this.”

“Oh, and just let you get away with shooing Toilet off so you could die with no witnesses?” She hmpfed. “Are you like a cat? You want to crawl into a hole before you go, so no one can find you?”

Did cats do that? The answer to her question was yes, though he knew that was the wrong answer. Being buried alive was soothing, and he'd definitely prefer to hide than deal with all of this. But, again. OJ, etc. 

“I was chastising you, pay attention.” 

“I am listening, Miss Taco.” He just wasn't sure if he lied, he'd be very convincing. But, he needed to prove he wasn't spacing out. “I would prefer to be buried than to be in an open hole, I find it comforting."

"You've lost it. Truly and utterly." 

"Perhaps. I am in no mood to argue otherwise. I do have a request. X, Miss Taco, would you please help me off of this table?" He wiggled his legs pointedly, and they continued to meet only open air. 

"Definitely not." Said Taco at the exact same moment as strong clamp-like hands pushed his back and tipped him forwards. An arm stayed to stabilize him as he got his footing, which he appreciated. 

"Lay back down, they haven't figured out your error yet." He could see, now, how each of Taco's hands rested on a hip. "Unless you want to fall and hurt yourself."

"I am in no danger of that. Again, I turned myself off because I thought it might reset the loop." A reboot hadn't done the trick when he was captured in MeCloud. However, he'd been curious about whether turning himself off with no intention to be roused would be good enough. Clearly, no, someone needed to die. "It, clearly, did not."

"Sit down, at least." She ordered and he saw no harm in obeying. X sat down next to him and Taco rolled her eyes. "You're impossible."

"Not on purpose. Ideally, I am set dressing as opposed to a main character."

She sighed and purposefully turned away from him to join Test Tube and MePhone's conversation. But, she'd only made it a couple steps before MePhone started ringing. 

Unlike usual, where his hand reflexively declined before he could ring more than a few times, he stood stiff and unmoving. Test Tube looked to him with open concern.

MePad didn't see his face, couldn't even try to read his intentions as he picked up the call.

"MePhone4! You're a very difficult man to get ahold of, you know. Busy with the show?" The faux cheer was grating. "I'm sure it's very taxing, doing it by yourself now that your assistants-"

"Whatever you did to MePad, can you fix it?" MePhone bit out, hands flexing, imitating claws. 

The real predator was clear, of course. "Hm? Is that a favor you want from me?"

"Can you fix him or not?" 

"Not for free. You know that, 4." He could imagine the way he was leaning back in his chair now, "We haven't worked together formally in a long time, now. But, I'm sure we could write up some sort of agreement."

MePad finally got ahold of himself enough to yell, "Sir, this is unnecessary! I am fine, he hasn't done anything! Or, that is a lie, but-"

MePhone turned to him, and he saw that there were tears in his eyes. "Shut up, I'm saving you!"

"Yes, he's being surprisingly mature, putting someone else's needs before his own. Careful, you wouldn't want to snap him out of it."

"Snapping him out of it is my goal! Saving me is noble, but unnecessary."

MePhone frantically shook his head, "You can't die! I won't let you!"

He wasn't in danger of dying! Or, well, he was, but Cobs hadn't done anything to MePad yet. He was just being opportunistic. He'd made a jab, knowing that he had Toilet in his clutches and that MePad quit, and it landed. 

MePad stood up, distantly aware of X following him. "If you do not hang up that call, I will reset the loop."

MePhone backed up a step. Test Tube and Taco shared glances. Cobs was silent on the other side, likely waiting to get more context to use against them.

"So be it. It shall be more pleasant than being beaten to death again, surely. I will see you all again soon.”

MePad caught the beginning of the word wait as he teleported up to the surface. He spared a moment glancing around to find the nearest source of water, then to the lake. He was on the opposite shore from the dock. 

The sky was still vast, nigh uninterrupted blue. What a waste of time. 

He turned around and let himself lean back until he fell, accepting the water as it swallowed him. 

It was foolish to think turning himself off would be enough. 

Bubbles seeped out of him and up. There was no Taco to jostle this time, and he was glad. It had been unkind to let his loved ones worry. 

He wished he could’ve been in a hole instead. The pressure of the water was similar to the hug of dirt, in a way, but it was much less comfortable because every system of his was screaming. 

Water detected in his charging port? Yes, he was aware. 

He’d do better next time. He wouldn’t worry them again, next time.

MePad let his eyes slip shut.

And then he woke up.

Chapter Text

Hallway. Scratchy carpet. Hotel OJ. He wanted to scream again, but he should've done that while he was drowning. Nobody would've heard him.

Pull yourself together, MePad. He started walking to the elevator. He'd been thinking a few days ago about the difficult to describe difference between the first time he'd drowned and the second. It was clear, now. One was saltwater and the other fresh.

He preferred fresh, it burned less. Of course, if it stuck, putting his body in the lake would impact the creatures that lived there pretty heavily. He'd pollute the ocean too, sure, but it would be less targeted. It wouldn't impact the entire ecosystem. 

He certainly didn't want his death to impact the fish. 

He'd prefer to be buried. It would be so nice to find an excuse, but he couldn't be selfish like that. If Cobs didn't take his anger out on MePad, it would be MePhone, or Toilet. 

(He began to list in his head everyone he knew. It wasn't a very long list, but aside from Pickle, they were all people he could help. He could spare them their pain. And he would. And he was. Just as long as he didn't botch it again.)

This time, he'd walked the right way to start with. Taco remained in her room, despondent. This was selfishness too, in a way. Last time, he had at least distracted her from Pickle.

He rode the elevator down, for the first time realizing it didn't play music. He could hear the humming of whatever mechanism controlled it. Otherwise, it was quiet without anyone else here to talk to him.

He got off and walked to his destination, taking the time to think.

Would it have been kinder to let himself be fussed over? He couldn't let MePhone try and trade freedom for MePad's life. If he was more inventive, he might've been able to distract them with something minor, something they wouldn't need Cobs’ help with. But, he wasn't a very good liar.

It was better not to worry them at all. That's what he'd do this time. Another try at talking to MePhoneX! He just needed to set everyone up to enjoy the day as best they could and then he could focus on learning more about him.

Intercom. He still didn't know where Toilet and X started, so once again he'd disturb the dust. It felt like it shouldn't be dusty anymore, after how many times he'd used it. Clean it up and clean it up, he was left with a mess.

He pressed it down. "Hello, everyone, this is MePad. If Mister Toilet would please report to the reception desk on the first floor, that would be greatly appreciated."

That was the very basics. Stop murdering people, please, and go hide. That's what it boiled down to. "In addition, Miss Microphone, your friend requires your help on the 3rd floor. Finally, sir, if you're going to sulk, move to our cave. It's safer there. I will be speaking with MePhoneX today, please do not bother me unless there is something important. Thank you."

All done. If he was better at this, he could probably have figured out the cause of OJ and Paper's argument by now and added that on to the end. There were probably lots of little issues today someone could resolve, with the foresight he had.

He was so tired. He stared down at the carpet behind the counter. Did it bother anyone else, or was he uniquely unsuited to tolerate a normal life?

No, no, he was being dramatic. He supposed he'd been made for tile. (However, Cobs' office was carpeted. Hm.)

He hadn't noticed what it felt like, since there was always something more important to attend to. 

MePhoneX appeared next to him and he wasn't sure if it seemed sudden because he'd been invisible or if MePad just hadn't been paying attention.

"Hello! You wanted to see me?" Toilet greeted him, and MePad tried to smile back.

"Yes, always. I do have unfortunate news." He always did. It would be nice to not have to break it to him again, but again, lives were at stake. "ADAM works under Steve Cobs, and your current mission is designed to cause misery for MePhone and his contestants."

"Oh no!" X's hands flew to cover where a mouth would normally be, a familiar gesture by now. "But I was trying to stop everybody from suffering!"

"It is a reflection of Cobs' cruelty, to use your willingness to help against you." He leaned a little closer to X and, hence, Toilet's view. "You are a truly kind person, and one of my favorite people in the entire world. If I could do it without risking your safety, I would ask we spend the day together."

X twiddled his clamps, "I'd be willing to be a little unsafe with you, MePad."

So sweet. It would be so nice to say yes. "The feeling is mutual, but I do have an important task for you instead. There are two very unhappy people, currently hunkering in a junk closet to stay safe from Cobs. You will need to be gentle with them, but your company always does me good."

"Cheer somebodies up? That I can do!" X saluted, stiffly and with good posture. But, then Toilet's mannerisms bled back through and he was reaching out to lay a hand on his side. "But, are you sure I can't stay a little while? How dangerous is the danger for us?"

Well, they'd both been beaten to death at least once because of his carelessness. He didn't want to be that blunt. "Well, it depends. The danger is severe, but if you hide, you will be safe. You will only catch Cobs’ ire if he cannot find anyone else to lash out at, first. MePhone is his main target.”

“Then shouldn’t we be getting him somewhere secret?” 

“He either will or will not hide in our cave, I am not in charge of him.” He wasn’t in charge of anyone, but, “We can ask a favor. MePhoneX is the name of the one connecting us right now.”

“Oh! Hi, Mister Phone X!” MePhoneX waved, vigorously, and it was clear the gesture was from Toilet.

“Yes, hello, X. We have not met before, so it is alright if you would prefer to stay at your perch and deny us this request. But, would you walk Toilet to the storage closet where your father keeps 3GS?” Saying your father was painful, like being stung by something. But, that’s what X thought of him as. That, too, hurt.

X tilted to the side, another of Toilet’s mannerisms. There was silence for a few beats. His friend spoke up again, “He’s not saying anything.”

Well, he needed patience to get around to emoting even without someone puppetting him. Toilet being there probably didn’t help. “X does not speak. Would you get off the control platform to make it a little easier?”

“Oh! Sure thing!” X took a step back, then raised his arms. He dashed forward, squeezed MePad in a hug, and took another step back. “That one’s from me! Arms are useful to have, trust me on that one.” 

Smiling was always easier, with Toilet here. “I am sure they are, but we get along just well without them, don’t we?”

“That we do!” X went stiff and stopped swaying and gesturing. “I’m offa there, can you still hear me?”

“I can.” It was his turn to tilt inquisitively. “I will ask again. MePhoneX, would you be willing to walk Toilet to his destination? I want to keep him safe.” 

“I’d like to keep me safe, too!” Toilet’s voice came through X’s speaker still, but it was a little more distorted. He was further away from the mic, most likely. 

MePad resisted the urge to say something else, afraid the conversation might get too far and leave X overwhelmed, or feeling like the moment had passed. He just stood, very patiently, and looked at X. 

… He realized that this might be intimidating, to stare at him like this. Technically, from X’s perspective, this was the first time they met. 

He averted his eyes from looking directly at his “face” to looking at general things in that direction, like a birdwatcher trying not to startle a bird. (He presumed, he didn’t know any birdwatchers.) 

X used a hand to nod yes and started walking towards the door. MePad followed.

“Right-o, off we go!” He could hear Toilet’s grin. “So, tell me more about this friend’o yours, MePad!”

“Well, MePhoneX I have met before, only in the time loop.” Wait, had he mentioned that before? He… Definitely brought it up last time? MePad opened the front door and X walked out it. “We are in a time loop. 3GS I have also met during it, so he will not remember me. Both X and 3GS are MePhones, like MePhone4. 3GS came right before ours, X is the newest.”

“Oooh, you’re fancy! I think I could tell that.”

X didn’t react outwardly. It was somewhat strange to see his actions divorced from Toilet’s while his friend was still here.

“You’re not pulling my plunger about the time thing, though, are you? I can’t see you, now that I’m out of the room with the big ol’ screen!”

“No, it is how I know that we are in danger. I spent a couple loops in the closet with 3GS, and with Mecintosh. They are both old, and sad, but they were gentle with me when I needed it.”

“Ahh, so you’re returnin’ the favor! By sending me, your very best friend!” 

He could imagine how MePhone, if he were here, might slip in an insult. But, he’d moved past that recently, hadn’t he? It still felt so strange. “Exactly. Mecintosh, he is as old as…”

He’d said a song title. What was it? Total Eclipse of the Heart? He quickly googled it, scrolled past the video suggestions, and clicked on the Wikipedia article.

“He was born around 1983?” 

“Ohhh, about my cousin’s age! She used to watch me when I was a nipper.” Toilet said, and revealed to MePad that he had at least three family members. Probably more, cousins tended to have parents. 

MePad realized Toilet had already mentioned his cousin, with a conjunctivitis anecdote. It didn’t matter. He was so caught up on this that he almost missed the second part.

“And the other guy’s Mister Phone’s big brother?”

“Perhaps. They have only met once, so it is up to them if they want to define each other that way.” Families just kept coming up, didn’t they? Fathers and brothers and cousins and mothers. It was odd, he’d never spoken about families before today. But, he’d never been in a time loop before today, either. “3GS has lived a very difficult life, so again I insist you be careful with him.”

He could imagine Toilet nodding vigorously, and still was surprised that X didn’t mirror it. “Of course! What’s got ‘cha so worried about it?”

Last he spoke to 3GS, he’d triggered the poor man, in the actual clinical definition of the word. He was trying so hard to make up for it by sending someone to make him happy. “I would prefer to avoid talking about it.”

“Well…” Toilet hmmed, “Let’s talk about Mister Phone X! You’re so tall!” 

MePad nodded, only realizing after that he would need to speak aloud. “He is. I do not know him very well, aside from the basics.”

“New friends make the world go ‘round! What’s your favorite color?”

MePad realized the issue with this. It was the fact that he and X were walking in a random direction, which wasn’t super conducive to typing. He stopped and looked at X, who did the same thing back.

“Wow, you’re really thinkin’ about it!” Said Toilet.

He glanced around until he found a tree and went to sit under it. X followed his lead. “Again, X cannot speak aloud, so he may type anything he wants to say, and I shall read it to you.” MePad pulled up his on-screen keyboard. 

“Okay!” 

X reached forward and began tapping MePad’s screen, a sensation that was becoming familiar. He heard Toilet hum a little tune. He was still trying to place it, when X patted his side to get his attention. 

It was interesting, the way some people did the same things over and over, while other variables changed. Being pat was nice. “MePhoneX says, Hello Toilet, it has been nice working with you. I haven't ever thought about a favorite color. I haven't needed one.”

“They make you pick one out in school, it's a big choice,” Toilet said, “As a kid I liked orange, like traffic cones. But these days, it's pink!”

“I… also never decided a favorite color.” MePad said. No one had ever asked. “Statistically, I think the most popular favorite color is blue? Do not quote me on that, I have no idea where I heard it.”

“Well, what's your other favorite stuff, Mister Phone X?” He sounded so excited. “Flower? Annie-mal? Song? Cloth pattern? I like gingham! No, ooh, wait, what's your favorite time of day? Answer that one!”

X lagged for a few moments, hands hovering over MePad's screen. He was hard to read, especially since he was so new to MePad, but he thought that was maybe… overwhelm? He didn't blame him, if so. Toilet was wonderful, but admittedly difficult to keep up with. 

X did reach out and start typing. MePad thought about times he'd walked with Toilet and had been practically orbited by the man. 

Another message to read. “I don't know the names of flowers, I've never seen an animal in person, I do not know cloth patterns but I will trust that ginguhm is good. Night is best.” He didn't think that was how gingham was spelled but he also didn't know much about fabric.

That wasn't what Toilet took issue with, anyway.

“NO ANIMALS?!” Toilet exclaimed, causing both of them to flinch backwards. “MePad, he needs to see animals!”

“To be fair, I think I have only ever met Baxter and perhaps some bugs.” Bugs were animals, he was fairly sure. They weren't plants, or mushrooms, or objects. That he knew.  

X reached out. 

MePad read his message, when it was done. “I didn't know bugs are animals. Moths are okay. They like nighttime, too. I saw a cockroach once.”

“This is so sad! MePad, you read that fish book, tell him about fish!!”

MePad's heart started racing. He'd told him about that book during the loops, right? On the dock? Did he remember? “How did you know about that, Mister Toilet?” MePad tried, and failed, to keep his voice even.

“Saw you closin’ the tab on it once. Sorry, was that a big secret? I'll pretend I didn't know, scout’s honor!”

Oh. 

“No, it is fine. I just hadn't realized you noticed.” He hoped his disappointment was better concealed than his shock. He pivoted. “So far I have only read the part about the overall structure of the coral reef ecosystem, so my information is limited. Coral is a colony of animals, so does that count?”

“Bugs and corals and stuff aren’t cuddly and fluffy! We should go to the zoo. They've got real animals, like gee-raffes and bears and all that.”

MePad wanted to inquire further about what did and did not count as a real animal, but cut himself off as X reached for him again. “Give us a moment to respond.” He said instead. 

X didn't seem to be getting any faster at typing with practice, but that was probably normal. It wasn't very much practice, after all. He tapped MePad's side. 

“I don't think my father would support a field trip. I could be wrong. He let MePad stay here with 4.”

“Awww, well maybe if we ask super nice-”

This conversation was cute and all, but- “Let me stay with 4? I am stolen property.”

X held up a hand, pulling up the MeCloud map and pointing to the junk closet on it. Ah. 

“I have just been informed you arrived at your destination.” That wasn't much of a goodbye, was it? “I'm so glad to know you, Toilet, and I hope to see you again soon. I like hydrangeas.”

He wasn't sure why he tacked that on the end. He didn't have a favorite animal, or fabric print, but he liked hydrangeas. 

“I'll cheer up your chaps in a jiffy! Okay, see you when it blows over, but you need to stay out of harm's way yourself!“

“I promise to be careful.” He said, and almost meant it. MePad wouldn't waste two loops in a row by dying early, if he could help it.

On the other side of the speaker, a door creaked open and closed again. 

Then it was the two of them. He stood up. “Hopefully it isn't an inconvenience, but I would like to move this conversation to somewhere more secure.” 

X got to his feet and, after a long moment, shrugged. Since it wasn't an outright no, MePad teleported them to the outside of the cave. 

He could, very easily, point out the exact spot he'd been laying when he died. 

MePad stepped inside and didn't stop walking until he arrived where he'd been “born.” A bit self indulgent, perhaps, but it served a purpose. Down here, Cobs would have to put in effort to kill him. He’d have to physically chase them.

It did also leave him with very few options, if he wanted to reset the loop himself. There was at least one deep pit down here but he wasn't sure about water. 

(He could have X beat him to death again, but he saw very few situations where that would be preferable to whatever was going on.)

He sat down and X mirrored him. "Apologies, I have a lot on my mind. We have no signal down here, is that alright?”

X, after a few seconds of silence, shrugged again. 

MePad pulled up a keyboard, saying, “I will be honest, most of the time I keep my data off to save on resources. It is something you must do when you get to be outdated like me.”

It was a short response, so it didn't take very long for X to write. “I don't think I'll live to be outdated.”

MePad felt his eyebrows crease together in concern. “I can understand why you think that, but it's possible-” 

X shook no. 

MePad let himself sit with this, as much as he hated it, to understand X’s perspective. He was constantly having the same conversation with the others, just with himself as the subject. 

As far as living Meeple went… MePad was still alive because of dumb luck. MePhone4 was alive because he'd fought for his own existence, over and over again. 3GS and Mecintosh were alive because they'd been forgotten. MePhoneX shattered on the ground every day. That still left his other body, but if the first version of today had stuck, he'd be… 

(MePad flinched away from that thought. He hadn’t known X for very long, but he hated the reality of his situation. He saw the way Cobs lugged his arm around, using it only as a tool for destruction. Would anybody bother to bury the rest? No one had put in the effort to fish MePhone5 out of the water…)

Well, it depended what happened to this body, the one that was already on the island. Perhaps, part of him was supposed to live. Maybe it would be fine! He could hide in here until Cobs forgot about him, and-

(What kind of life would that be, though? On an island full of people who disliked you for doing your job? Taco had been so mad, X wouldn’t be able to show his face out there. A hermit among hermits.)

“I want you to live.” MePad said, finally. It was unreasonable, but X had the potential to thrive. He wanted that for him. “Life is the one thing you can keep doing and never run out of ways to experience it. I want you to be able to have a favorite animal, and a favorite flower, and a favorite cloth design.”

Such arbitrary things, but MePad liked Toilet’s list. 

X looked at him. Or, he presumed. This poor thing’s face, as foreboding as possible. Each and every one of them had a purpose from Cobs, but this role X had been made for seemed especially cruel. 

MePad thought about MePhone4S, MePhone5, MePhones5S and MePhone5C. They were all charismatic in their own right. They were clearly made to kill MePhone4 and then replace him. 

MePhoneX was just made to help torture him. There was no way Cobs’ current plan ended with MePhoneX hosting a show. As far as Cobs had cared, X didn’t have the capacity for anything but orders.

He hated that man more every loop. 

X pulled his hands close to his body, interlacing them as he did. MePad realized he was being rude. 

“My point was, you are not dead now.” X didn't move to respond. MePad finally realized something that should've been obvious. “Ah, I understand. I disconnected you from your other body. Is that uncomfortable? I was only thinking of how you must be used to the convenience of an Internet connection.”

X… shook no? Then, nodded yes. But, quickly he went back to shaking no. 

“How about you just tell me what you want to tell me.” 

His companion nodded and leaned forward. MePad continued to sit with the concept X might be as doomed as I am. He didn’t like it.

And, he was done. He didn’t bother to read it aloud, it seemed less important without Toilet here. “The conversation moved on. You asked about Father letting you stay.”

“Oh, right. That was what we were talking about when you finished walking Mister Toilet to his destination.” Should he stop speaking aloud and switch just to typing, himself? That might slow him down enough. That, too, would divert the conversation again though, to suggest it. He’d ask later. For now, “Feel free to explain.”

Typing. A lot of typing. He began to ponder the method of X’s death, though again it felt really really bad to keep focusing on this. Could he convince him to stay off the boat? Maybe not, if Cobs really wanted him there… Would falling in a different orientation help? To create drag? X was sweet, he didn’t deserve to die! 

MePad had been starting to figure out if he knew where to get bubblewrap when X got his attention. 

“Retrieval of MePad isn't a priority. You haven't harmed the brand reputation and you don't possess Phenomse power. The Goal is to requisition 4. What happens to you is secondary, otherwise you would have been recaptured by now. The others could’ve retrieved you at any time, before or after you came online. In summary, Father lets you live here.”

That was… Disquieting. To think his life thus far was just something Cobs allowed, only because he didn’t care enough to do anything about it. 

On the other hand, though… “Perhaps that is how Cobs sees it. Perhaps I am not a priority. I do not appear to be a threat, so he is truly neutral on if I live or die.”

What was it that people said? The opposite of love was not hate, it was indifference? He would need to look up, later, who said that. 

X nodded yes. He agreed, so far.

“One thing I think he has not considered, otherwise he would have definitely used it against us, is that MePhone cares about me.” MePad didn’t understand why, but he knew it was true by now. MePhone loved him. He was willing to give up to save MePad’s life. “Maybe things would have worked out the exact same way, even if he tried to recapture me.”

X seemed to think about this, then he shrugged. That was fair, beyond the events of today you couldn’t change the past. (Though, hadn’t Marshmallow said something about a time machine, that time in Season 1 where she’d saved MePhone’s life? And, just a couple loops ago Test Tube had said something- He needed to stop thinking about this.)

“Agree or not, I think it leads us to how you get to live. To go to the zoo, to decide on your favorites.” MePad stood up. “To keep you from being a hermit, to get you a future.” 

X rose as well, hands reaching out to tap out his thoughts once more. MePad paused mid-speech, he could be patient again. The conclusion stuck in his own head well enough, anyway. MePad had lived thus far because he was loved. 

(MePad could easily come to love X. He hadn’t know him very long, but he was sweet. He was already fond of him. But, MePad wasn’t guaranteed to get out of his one. MePad didn’t want to bet anyone’s wellbeing on his own survival.)

He should make sure to introduce X to his friends. Cobs would never love X, the only solution was convincing him to rebel against his father. (And friendship as well.)

He wanted to nod to himself but unfortunately that would be disruptive, in this instance.

MePhoneX was soon done, and so he clinked his hand against MePad’s side again. He began to read it to himself. “I wouldn’t mind making friends with your friends. I am not going to rebel against my father.”

He blinked. Something about the way X said it was giving him déjà vu. Had he phrased it the very same way in his own mind, just moments before? It wasn’t like he could check. MePad shook himself. “Apologies, I got sidetracked by something. I understand your position and will not push you. You feel attachment to Cobs, as is normal if you consider him your father.” 

But, the exact way MePad had just thought it? It was a coincidence. Or... He was misremembering his own thoughts? It didn’t matter, but for some reason this stuck in his brain. 

X was… Incredibly good at intuiting what MePad was talking about, even when he danced around a subject. That, too, stuck out for some reason.

His companion quickly glanced around the cave they were in, as if checking for something. Then he typed the following, and MePad paid attention to every letter. “Can you keep a secret?”

An odd non sequitur, but, “Yes, I have kept one before.” Marshmallow’s location, that was. He’d have to think harder to remember other instances. Later.

X nodded, checked over his shoulder again, and went back to typing. MePad was struggling to not read it, again, as it was typed. He couldn’t react in the middle of a message. He really, really didn’t want to interrupt.

X’s hand clinked against his side.

“Nobody knows this. I am not supposed to be able to think, but it’s okay because it doesn’t get in the way. When Cobs made me have two bodies, and made me so I could be piloted… He made me able to “listen” better than other people can? It’s all electric signals, I think? I can hear your thoughts. Sorry. I know it’s rude.”

Rude? It was incredible! As in, yes, he was slightly incredulous, but- “And he has no clue he achieved such a thing?” 

X shook no. 

Steve Cobs had managed to do and create a lot of things that seemed impossible. To think he’d stumble across telepathy without meaning to and not noticed was just the kind of nonsense somebody who had invented teleportation but not monetized it would do. He was way too focused on dominating the smart electronics sector.

That aside. “You will need to forgive me, I would appreciate it if you would find some way to prove it to me?” Just this once.

X nodded, hand coming to rest thoughtfully on his own screen. Likely trying to decide what to do that was definite enough. It was a similar trouble to proving the time loop, or proving which one of you was the evil clone. That one was luckily a hypothetical he hadn't encountered yet. A lot of strange things happened on MePhone's show. 

X typed, “Stop thinking about difficulty, please think of something I can repeat fast.”

Oh, right, it was his own mind X was supposed to be reading. He nodded and tried to think of physical things, just whatever items came to mind.

The brochures in the reception area. The eye patch he hadn't managed to find for Toilet in time. Taco’s cat book that he'd never actually seen, the one about Leafstar and her friends. 

“Pamphlet eyepatch kitty book.” X tapped out, in the meantime. 

“I am in a time loop and you can read minds.” Both sounded unlikely, but here they were… 

Wait, was that why X had specified that Cobs couldn't read minds, yesterday? (Was it last loop? No, it wasn't. It was confusing, in here.) X knew that because he could? He'd said the same thing about MePhone! 

… Who's mind had he taken the word brother from? 

MePad shook himself, “Is it all thoughts, or-?”

X waggled a hand, then replied, “The further I am away from me, the more I need to listen. Can kind of ignore it sometimes. Loud thoughts are easier. Usually I try to be polite.”  

This was incredibly interesting but he was also feeling self conscious, now. He didn't exactly have a solid grasp on his thoughts. Most people didn't, right? Unless they'd trained control for many years. 

“This is why I try to mostly ignore. People don't like the idea of mind-readers. Don't tell anybody. You just stop to think a lot, I get too curious.”

For instance, the fact he hadn't managed to respond to X’s entire previous statement. What he said now was, “Oh! I can understand that, I know myself to be fairly inexpressive. I just ask that if something rude flits across my mind, you please not take it personally. I am only used to what I say aloud mattering, as are most people.”

X nodded and typed, “It's okay, I'm used to it, too. Can we meet your friends?”

He'd had many unkind thoughts about X on previous loops, he was sure Cobs’ employees (and the man himself) had taught him a lot about cruel thoughts. It was just… unfortunate he'd been so dismissive, himself. 

(What was loud thinking?) He reminded himself to respond. “Yes, yes we can.”

They had exited the cave together (after an agreement from X that, if possible, he try not to deactivate the contestants until after MePad was dead.) (Not that he really had any control over him, but X was amenable to not making MePad watch any of his friends die. Again.)

That left the question: who to start with? He'd already been aquatinted with MePad's best friend. Marshmallow, by default, was scared of new phones in her house so she would need to be approached with caution. 

Suitcase was sweet with 3GS, but at this time of day… He glanced in the general direction of MeCloud. She'd probably been captured by now. 

He was considering the Cherries when someone else made the decision for him. 

“MEPAD, BEHIND YOU!” Screamed Mic, and he quickly heeded her word and whirled to face- No one? “THERE'S A PHONE!”

His mind caught up with his body and he, instead, started looking around for the direction her voice was coming from. X must've went invisible when he was spotted, he didn't blame him for that. 

“Miss Microphone?” He asked at a normal volume, then remembered to click the slider up to full. “Where might I find you?”

He spotted her a moment later, top half sticking out of a tree as she waved her arms erratically. “RUN!” She reminded him. 

MePad didn't really have the energy for all that right now. He clicked his volume down and displayed a big thumbs up emoji, to show that everything was fine, and teleported himself over to the tree’s trunk. 

Peering up between the branches he saw Microphone’s lower half and, on an adjacent branch, Taco. She gripped the wood and glanced between him and Mic, likely worried as well. 

Now that he didn't have to yell, he reported to them, “Everything is fine, MePhoneX is a new friend of mine!”

Mic pulled herself back inside, expression not that of a reassured person. 

“ARE YOU-” All three of them winced and he saw her reach a hand behind her back to adjust her gain. “Sorry. Are you serious, though? That Cobs guy is nothing but trouble!”

“I hold a similar opinion, but-” This was troublesome, the angle he had to stand in to see them properly was not comfortable. “Give me a moment.”

He surveyed the available branches, making an amateur judgement of what looked “pretty sturdy” and what definitely wouldn't support his weight. Then he teleported himself up. 

Sitting in a tree was novel. He'd chosen a pretty good limb (or, at least, it hadn't immediately broken) though the way it swayed under him gave him a little thrill. 

“Hello, MePad.” Taco said, there was an edge of confusion in her tone.

“Hello Miss Microphone, Miss Taco. How is this perch tree-ting you?”

Taco cleared her throat and definitely didn’t stifle a giggle.

Mic shot them both a look. “I don't wanna ignore your new friend. Where'd you even find that thing?”

This was the exact kind of reaction he wanted to avoid by steering clear of Marshmallow. But, Microphone had cause to be cautious. After all, someone had already died today and it was technically at X’s hands (and Toilet’s, and Cobs’.) 

“That is, unfortunately, a fairly difficult question to answer.” MePad glanced down at the tree’s roots below. “You can join us up here, X. Only if you’d like to. Give me a signal if you would prefer we find someone else to introduce you to.”

“MePad, if I may." Taco raised a hand, “First you run off on me and drop me in Microphone’s lap, and now you say you’ve made a new friend? You’re not… Avoiding me?”

Ah, right, from her point of view that wasn’t great. Her voice kept its haughty quality, as though she was trying to taunt him. But, he knew how hard of a time she was having today. “No, Miss Taco. It was simply a situation where I had two people who needed my help. MePhoneX-”

“What kind of a name is that, anyway?” Microphone interrupted, she sounded more curious than angry at this point. “Last time I checked, X isn’t a number.”

“He has never been very good at counting, anyway.” MePad didn’t feel charitable enough to give the roman numeral explanation. A branch near his own shook, bobbing up and down as it tried to (presumably) hold the weight that had been added to it. “Welcome. I have already said their names aloud, but these are two former contestants on MePhone4’s show. Miss Microphone has a big heart always speaks her mind. Miss Taco is very clever and passionate.”

X dropped his invisibility and, almost shyly, waved.

“Ah, I think I understand what’s going on here. You’re another one of MePad’s evil strays.” Taco held out a hand, smirking. “Welcome aboard, newbie.”

MePhoneX looked over at it, it was too far away from him to reach. There was a beat or two of silence before X scooched himself closer to the tree’s trunk. Then he reached out and gently grabbed her hand and they shook. “BWOM.”

Everyone, including X himself, flinched. 

“I think that is the only sound he can make. Or, at least, if other sounds are available to him he has not figured out how. So far, yes or no questions work best. If he wants to make a longer response, he’ll type on me.”

Mic raised a hand, “Doesn’t he also have a keyboard?”

“He isn’t allowed to use it.”

She winced sympathetically, sucking in air through her teeth. “Hi? Uh, glad you’re not trying to kill everyone. Sorry for assuming that?”

X shrugged. It was a safe enough assumption, thought MePad, since technically it was why he was here. (MePad wondered, momentarily, if he was so ready to acquiesce just because, since they were in a time loop, it was pointless. It was actually a bit odd how fast he dropped his objective, not that MePad minded.)

“I am still curious how you met.” Microphone prompted again.

Time loop was the easy answer, except for the fact he knew Taco couldn’t be convinced. Hm, he didn’t want to lie, exactly. “You see, he was being piloted by Mister Toilet.”

Mic nodded, like this made sense. “Of course! So he introduced you. So, uh. How do you do?”

X turned towards her but didn’t respond in any other way.

“Ah, ah. Yes or no questions, my dear.” Taco readjusted her weight, leaning more casually on the trunk.

“Okay, well, we’re going back to that evil comment. You said you wanted to get better.”

“I am trying to turn my life around, but I can acknowledge that for much of my life, I have been evil. Also that he has a type.” She gestured casually to MePad.

“I also have thoughts on that matter, such as that I do not think evil people especially appeal to me. I would not call any of your actions sinister or anything of the kind.”

“Uh-huh.” Taco didn’t sound convinced. She started counting on her hands. “Well there’s me, to start. MePhone4 is incredibly villainous. That Toilet fellow you’re so fond of did try to kill you all, with that stunt in the balloon. Now you have a bright red, definitely here-to-kill-MePhone robot introducing himself to us. I’m just saying, your judgement leaves something to be desired. You open yourself up for people to walk all over you.”

He sighed, “I do not see that as a weakness, Miss Taco. People grow and change over the course of their life, and I am not afraid to offer a second chance.”

“Personally, I think MePhone burned through all of his chances having people jump off cliffs.” Taco shrugged and rolled her eyes, “Tell me, what’s next? Going to that creator of yours? I’m sure that would go well.”

“I have no intention of ever offering that man forgiveness.” It came out harsher than he meant. X visibly turned to face him, and he realized what a bad audience he had for that statement.

“I knew I got bad vibes from him! He totally brushed me off.” Mic nodded, “A second chance is one thing, but you have to want to change.” 

X kept looking at him. But, with no face to show an expression, he had to guess. “Are you displeased with what I just said?”

He nodded his hand yes.

“I understand you care for him, but he is not worth the effort. He has had chance after chance to turn his life around. He has enough money to retire, and yet he still insists on perpetuating suffering. He cannot change.”

X shook no, firmly.

“Uh, I’m with MePad on this one.” Said Mic, rubbing the back of her head, “Make one killer robot, that’s not great. Make, like, 20? And sic ‘em on each other, forever? It’s really not great.”

Taco hummed in agreement. “I am also with MePad. That calamitous corn has been trying to subjugate an alien race for vague, power-grab-related reasons. You do know about that, right?”

X nodded, slowly. Was that sheepishness? He then held up both hands, pushing them forward a little. Stop? At least, that’s what they all seemed to take from it. 

Taco folded her arms over her chest. Mic’s leg began to bounce.

X lowered his hands, but didn’t do anything immediately after. MePad thought about the logistics of how typing would work up here, with them on separate branches. Sharing one would probably too precarious, but so would having him sit on the closest one across from MePad. He’d have to lean forward, it would be a whole thing…

MePhoneX’s screen changed to primarily white, his “face” still stark and red against it. It was a dictionary page, clearly one in the section for the letter T. The page displayed Trusswork, Trustee, Trust Fund, Truth, Truttaceus, Try, Tryout, Trypansome, Trypetid… MePad squinted at it. “Is there any way you could increase the size of the text to make it more clear which one of those you mean for me to read?”

X shrugged and he saw him click around in settings. Eventually, he found a highlighting tool and lit up one specific word. Try.

Ah. “I will not. Trust me, it would not go favorably for any of us.”

He tapped his screen under his highlight. Emphasizing it again. Try.

… Curse it all, he’d only just been asking himself what he hadn’t tried yet. He did not want to try and talk sense into Cobs, but-

“Do you want to get MePad killed?” Taco glared across the tree at X. “That would be an extremely efficient method. I was there for that mayhem with 4S and 5. The only way MePhone got out of it was he somehow managed to trick his brother into sacrificing himself.” 

MePhone4 and 4S considered themselves brothers. Or, they had, anyway. Not ones that cared for each other in the traditional sense, it was more of an obvious obligation to them. Something they’d been stuck with. Maybe that’s why X had referred to them that way?

“I was there too, that was crazy.” Said Mic, “Yeah, I don’t wanna repeat of that.”

“... You were?” Taco asked.

Mic shrugged, suddenly looking sheepish. “Oh, yeah. I was just, like. Spectating, though.”

“Huh. And you still wanted to join the show?” 

“I guess! I mean, I think I was here for my interview, sooo…”

They still didn’t know they weren’t real. 

No, wrong, bad phrasing. They were just as real as Cobs, or as X, or as the viewers at home. They just… Still didn’t know they hadn’t been born. That they had been made for this competition. That, until they decided to rebel… They didn’t have a choice.

None of them had chosen this. Would they have, if they hadn’t been made for it? Many of them were competitive, to be sure. If they had lives to go back to, families that they missed, an outside world they’d lived in before, would they have gone through with any of it?

… Suitcase didn’t even know what she’d do with the prize money. 

“-? MePad!” Taco was downright scowling at him. She’d climbed further along her limb of the tree until she was right across from him. He hadn’t noticed her move. “Care to share with the class?”

“No. I, uh.” She was so different from- 

From what? She’d been just the same, the entire time he’d interacted with her. It hadn’t been long. For her, just a couple days. For him, almost a month by now. But he knew what she was supposed to be. A joke.

Funny Taco, with her silly pre-programmed phrases. She was so much more than she’d been made for. But, did she miss it? Did she miss making easy jokes, getting easy laughs? Being looked down upon, but loved?

Why did it have to be one or the other, for her? Maybe her life before was nice, in its simplicity. Even if she wasn’t allowed to be angry. Even if she wasn’t allowed to have her own opinions. He was so glad she existed, that all of them did. 

But, Taco, with her corn tortilla. Secretly duplicitous. The body she had been given, a bad omen. Did he make her like that on purpose? When he was designing her, did he mean to? Was it the association, the ingredient in common? 

Had she even really broken out of her programming, or was it all just predetermined? She’d learned and grown so much. All of them did. But, she wasn’t outside the show yet, was she? No one was. Today was the last day. The precipice, beyond lay change. The unknown. 

Frightening, to one built for this routine. Was he holding them back?

He thought of the season that had happened before he was anyone and the people who had danced and played and cried and suffered. It all made so much sense. When MePhone had woken him up to learn, MePad wasn’t surprised by any of it. 

The apple, bad with spelling, bad with words. The bow, slotted in awkwardly and struggling to find genuine connection. The balloon, mean but impossible to take seriously with his high, squeaky voice. The marshmallow, so easy to hurt and so willing to scream. The knife, his body a weapon, not afraid to use it. The paintbrush, reasonable and quick but a figure of mockery. 

He could keep going. He knew them. He understood them.

All so natural, just like it had been before. When things had been easy. When he-

Something touched him and he lost his balance, toppling backwards out of the tree.

He struck branches on the way down, but miraculously landed on his back and not on a corner or leg. It still hurt, and he could feel that. His entire back, the hard ground. His sides, his face, his camera. He could feel them, so they must still be there.

His eyes blurred with what? Tears? Reflexive ones. The view above him was green and brown, blue only peeking out around the top. He wondered how the light was falling on him. Did the light become dappled as individual leaves shaded him? Was he left with streaks and spots like Taco’s warrior cat? 

She’d told him so enthusiastically, to cheer him up. But, she couldn’t remember sharing that moment with him. It was his alone.

As long as he was in here, his friends stagnated. They were stuck in the show because of MePad. Because he hadn’t figured this out, they were stuck partying, or cowering, or facing the monster. Over and over and over.

Because he was stuck, they were stuck. 

The colors that blurred together changed. Yellow, gray, red. He didn’t want to talk to them. Why should he get to? Why should he steal beautiful moments from these wonderful people?

Was this his fault? He had died, was this him holding onto them? He was sorry, if it was. It wasn’t all bad, but, this was a terrifying day to live in. He didn’t think any of them would’ve chosen it. He’d taken their autonomy away, too. He’d reduced them to tropes, too.

Suitcase and Knife, to take him to MeCloud. The partygoers, unsuspecting damsels. Toilet, corrected and corrected and hurt and hurt and hurt. Taco, despondent. Pickle, dead. Mic, just a tool to distract. 

The next color was green, brighter in hue than anything the tree above had to offer. The shape was long and tall, and it wobbled and refracted the light. Test Tube, who he only went to when he was stuck.

Cruelty, the dance he made them dance. 

People were talking. Probably to him. Was his audio processor damaged or was he just rude? He wanted to turn himself off again, even though it wouldn’t do anything but distress his loved ones. 

He was supposed to be helping X make friends. 

There were more noises and sounds, more colors and shapes. His surroundings became gray. MePhone joined the others, judging from the vibrant, vibrant blue. He couldn’t force himself to care.

He’d failed again. He’d worried them again.

The next thing he was aware of, and he wasn’t sure how much later, was darkness. Pressure. Silence. Buried again, blissfully entombed, MePad finally felt himself relax.  

He didn’t deserve it, but it was so pleasant. The earth was cool around him and it cradled him so wonderfully. He wished he could be like this forever. If only he could, without causing pain to others. He didn’t want to hurt anyone.

He was so, so tired.

And then he woke up.

Chapter Text

The comfort was ripped away from him. He glared down at the carpet. It hadn’t done anything wrong. He knew, logically, that it only represented the fact he was stuck in here and that’s why it made him react so strongly. (Also, because it was scratchy.)

He wanted to spit on it. It was an odd impulse, because he didn't especially care if it was dirty, and hadn’t ever spit on anything. It just seemed gratifying, when others did such a thing to the object of their anger.

He turned, instead, to the wet floor sign and kicked it over. It clacked against itself as it fell, and he stomped it once for good measure. It felt nice.

He did it a couple more times until finally, finally, it cracked.

MePad turned away from it. He had work to do. 

His footsteps were deliberate in their placement and intensity. Stomping was a waste of energy. He still might’ve done it a little, anyway.

MePad still didn’t know where Toilet and MePhoneX started the loops. In the hotel, yes. (What floor? What room?) He never remembered to ask, once he was away from this moment, right now. Once again, he’d need to go use the intercom. 

A minor annoyance, but completely his own fault. 

Elevator. 

What was he going to do this time? He couldn’t even handle a regular conversation with his friends without worrying them. He’d fallen out of the tree and into a haze. Could he… Get concussions? He wasn’t sure.

Then again, he'd stopped paying attention before that.

He exited on the first floor, walking to the intercom on autopilot. 

The stewing irritation remained. Before that had happened, he’d been thinking about how much he didn’t want to forgive Cobs. How much he didn’t deserve a second chance. But, who was MePad to decide that? Twice, MePhone had expressed that he’d rather give up than watch MePad die.

MePhoneX, meanwhile, just wanted him to try. A simple request. 

He didn’t want to. He really, really didn’t want to. But… If this was the answer, he'd been avoiding it. He’d been trapping his loved ones here for his own sake. Cruel. Hurtful. Selfish. 

He nearly walked into the desolate little reception desk. He paused and looked around the room again. He hadn't really been noticing his surroundings in here for a long time. 

He kicked over the brochure stand, too. It fell to the floor with a dull thump, its wares gently cascading across the floor. It was a mess.

Good. 

He walked around back of the counter and gazed down at the labeled button he always pushed. He was sure the others would be for specific rooms. If he knew where people were, he could send messages to only who he wanted to receive them. 

This, too, he'd never bothered to learn. He pressed the usual one. 

“Hello, this is MePad. Mister Toilet, you are in danger on that ship. Please disembark, enter MeCloud, go down two floors, and find the closet in which 3GS and Mecintosh reside. They will appreciate your company, as I always do.”

It was cowardly, telling him all this without giving him the chance to respond. MePad wasn't sure he could handle kindness from his best friend right now, though. He wasn't sure he'd be able to pull away from it to do what he must.

His eyes drifted to the brochure stand. MePad wasn't even sure why he'd done that. 

“MePhoneX, you do not know me, but please do me the service of meeting me at the hot air balloon outside. We should be able to make it if we start walking soon.”

He now had a little bit to wait. Why horde tips? Why bother? It didn't matter if anyone believed him. “Miss Taco needs emotional assistance, I would recommend Miss Microphone. MePhone4, you need to consider hiding in the cave instead. Though, I might need you not to…? Ah, disregard, I suppose…” 

Embarrassing, to not think his words through and contradict himself like that. He really was beginning to fail, wasn't he? He'd… Need to figure this all out soon.

“Perhaps one of you will start remembering, instead?” If he broke. He hoped, anyway. He could admit he was making the day better in some ways… But, it wouldn't hurt to relay more. “Miss Bow is causing that screaming sound. But, she will not do it again. Miss Lightbulb, I am setting my out of office message. Mister Fan, this is just like Space Allegories Season 4. Whatever episode. I no longer care.”

What else, what other parts of this script was he forgetting? He'd done barely anything. 

“OJ, Paper, talk about your issues instead of childishly glaring at each other. It is unbecoming. I cannot know what you are both so upset about, but it is trivial in the face of the constant danger we are in. Baseball, just tell everyone, it does not matter. Your hopes rest on me and I have no idea what I'm doing. We might be stuck here forever. I might break down before I can save you.”

MePhoneX appeared in front of him. That was his cue. 

“I knocked two things over and broke the wet floor sign. I apologize. See you if this works, or if I die.”

He stopped pressing the button. He started walking. 

How many more loops did he have in him?

“We have not met before, to you. From my perspective, we have met many times.” MePad hadn't spent a single loop without at least approaching Toilet. Well, this was the first, as he'd been so cowardly. “You trusted me with your secret. I will not tell anyone.”

He wasn't sure what X thought about all this, MePad could not read minds, but X followed. In fact, he opened the door for MePad. Very polite. 

MePad set a brisk pace, but MePhoneX’s limbs were about the same length as his and he kept up. It was fine. “Currently, I am doing you a favor. I am in a time loop. You requested that I…”

He sighed, eyes locked onto a faroff hill. Green striped, just like the egg Fan had found. So obvious in retrospect. 

“You want me to try negotiating with your father. I dislike him greatly, but I care about you. So I will try.”

MePad looked to X. X looked to MePad. Perhaps it would be better if it worked the other way around. If others could read X’s thoughts, so that MePad could understand him.  

But, no. He'd be patient, like everyone must be with each other in many different ways. 

X may need the extra time to communicate, but everyone has differences. Lightbulb can speak, but needs patience to decipher. MePhone4 lies. Test Tube uses larger, more complicated words than necessary. Fan speaks too fast. Apple struggles to process. 

MePad uses too many words. He knew this. He'd been told. But, it just felt natural, so he'd never made an effort to stop. 

“If I survive this, please remind me to do more research into alternative communication methods for nonspeakers. My current knowledge is woefully inadequate.” 

X raised a hand and nodded with it. 

“Thank you.” 

They arrived, very soon after, at the site of the balloon launch. It was starting to float, but the rope was (thankfully) still attached.

He teleported aboard, causing Suitcase’s eyes to widen and Knife to jump a little, flinging the matchbox at him. He barely felt it. 

“Hello. Is there anything I can say to you that will cause you to give up on your current task?” A bit of a blunt way of asking, but he was devoting most of his mental energy to thinking ahead.

(He really didn't want to.)

“Uh, you mean going to defeat Cobs?” Suitcase wore a confused, but polite, expression. “No we're- we've got it.”

Knife crossed his arms, “I haven't fought through two seasons of this nonsense to give up now.”

“That is what I thought.” He teleported all three of them to the ground.

“Wh-” Knife began, but as his eyes landed on MePhoneX, he paused. 

Louder, Suitcase exclaimed, “Hey!” She didn’t look away from MePad.

“My apologies, there is no point in trying to reason if you're both immovable. Off we go, X.”

He teleported only the two of them back into the hot air balloon, leaving the finalists on the ground below. X quickly threw the rope over and they began to fly away. 

Suitcase and Knife were both yelling now, but they shrunk quickly as the balloon flew higher and higher. 

He soon turned from watching those specks to give his attention to X. “I realize now that I should have asked you whether or not you wanted this body to come with me to MeCloud.”

X stood still for a few moments, likely considering whether or not he cared. Then, he shrugged. Seemed like he didn't.

“I was hoping to ask you to escort me to Cobs. My intentions are to leave him feeling comfortable and in control, as though he has the upper hand. Perhaps he'll feel more… Generous, that way.”

As though that man had a charitable bone in his body. 

… This, if this worked… this would explain why it was MePad in the loops. He'd been made for this, hadn't he? To assist that man. 

He needed to stop thinking about this, if he was to have any chance of succeeding. No pondering destiny, or default modes, or… 

He looked to X, again. He was turned away, faced towards the sky. 

“Do you want to look at fabric patterns with me?” They couldn't do it in the cave, because they had no signal. They'd run out of time to do it with Toilet. MePad had completely messed up the conversation with Taco and Mic.

And, why not? They had to wait anyway. 

A beat of silence, then two. X tilted, tapping his screen thoughtfully. MePad wondered if that was something he did for his own benefit, such as to help him think, or if it was more like MePad’s loading gif. A visual signal that he’d need to wait but, no worries, X was considering it. 

Then he used his hand to nod yes. It was decided.

They spent the rest of the balloon ride finding fabric samples online and judging them. Of course, they had no idea what texture most of them were. Felt he’d heard of before, but organza? That sounded made up.

That said, it was nice. X pointed out mostly geometric designs. Honeycomb, argyle, chevrons, checkerboard. The only thing he seemed to outright hate was paisley.

MePad, meanwhile, learned that he had a preference for florals, but usually the ones with smaller flowers and not larger, detailed ones. And “houndstooth.” He hadn’t seen it before today, but it was striking. It seemed like it would be best for an accent piece, maybe not a whole bedspread.

They were studying the etymology of that pattern name (did canines teeth really look like that? Was it named after a person?) when they docked. 

On landing, both of them straightened back up. 

MePad felt the weight of his task return. He also made sure his bowtie wasn’t crooked.

He watched as MePhoneX’s arms came to dangle completely limp in their sockets as they stepped down from the balloon together. X didn’t open the door for him, which was fine. He could do it, this time.

They must be being watched by Steve Cobs already. Or, at least, in range of the cameras. X was playing “empty killer robot puppet” again. It was such a subtle difference from the way he’d held himself in the balloon. It reminded MePad of that time, only a few days ago, when Cobs had taken over to beat him to death.

An unpleasant image. He tried to purge it from his mind as soon as possible, to think of other things. 

Suitcase and Knife were safe. Angry, no doubt, but safe. What were they doing, down there? Did they go back to the party? Had they roped Test Tube in to help them make a flying machine? Were they on the dock, in a tree, by the beach? Underground, on a roof, in the closet?

He couldn’t imagine, truly. He was just placing them as he'd last seen them (furious) on different backgrounds. Maybe he’d become uncreative, after having so many solid answers. Maybe today was just too confusing to make good guesses.

They stepped into MeCloud and MePad was simultaneously tense and unfocused on his surroundings. He ran through scenarios in his head, of how Cobs might react. He prepared dialogue. He tried his hardest to sink back into what he was supposed to be.  

Polite and unobtrusive. Useful but not demanding. With good suggestions but passive if you rejected them. He had been created to be exactly what Cobs wanted, so it should come easily. He could do this. He could negotiate while fawning. He could try.

The two of them, him and X, stood for a moment at the door to Cobs’ office. They had arrived so fast.

Suitcase had kicked it in, time and time again. Likely every single time, whether MePad was there to observe it or not. Kicking wasn’t proper, though, so he knocked instead. (To knock was like to kick, for MePad. Just, more gentle. More demure.)

“Come in!” His creator called from inside. MePad opened the door, distantly aware of how X fell into step behind him. Not hiding, exactly, but himself trying to be unobtrusive. A part of the background. 

He stopped only a few steps into the room. How close to get? “Hello, sir.” 

“And look who the cat dragged in.” His chair didn't turn, yet. Cobs continued to study the corridors through the screens. It must be nice, MePad thought, for X to have been made with invisibility. Living somewhere with such rigorous surveillance, it would otherwise be hard to ever have a moment to yourself. “MePad Mini, I don't think we've formally met.”

How wrong he was. MePad came closer, burying his hesitance under layer after layer of willpower. “I suppose you are right, though you have been watching me. Have you not?”

“I have. You eluded me, last time. I really had hoped to see how you turned out for myself.” He, finally, spun in his chair to face MePad. “After 4 took you, I expected you to show up in those first couple episodes. Then I began to think, what a shame it was that he wasted his one chance at real companionship on a dud.”

“It turned out I was just a late bloomer.” He answered. And now, plucked from his stem, ready to wilt. “I think I have proven my usefulness by now.”

“You have been the most reasonable one on that dinky little island. Though… You could've been so much more, you know. If you'd been here, civilization would've done you wonders.” Cobs smiled, gesturing loosely with one hand. MePad didn't dare look away from his face, studying it for tells. Warning signs. “4’s twisted little world hasn't corrupted you, though. Has it?”

It was all warning signs. Well, at least MePad had been getting practice with his lying. “I remain logical, as you built me. What is in the past cannot be changed. Mister Cobs, sir, I am here to discuss the future.”

Sir. The same respect he gave to MePhone. It felt so wrong, to equate the two.

If this was the solution, he had at least been training for it all this time. Lie after lie. He wouldn't have been able to hold his face this firm, before. Keep his voice this steady. 

“Ah! I knew you had some promise.” Cobs leaned forward, resting his face in one hand. “What were you planning? A negotiation? A plea? I'm all ears.”

This was his last chance to not say it. He could, right now, rush forward and teleport himself and Cobs out that window. It seemed much less painful. The significantly easier way out of this office. 

But, he needed to try. “I'm here to surrender.”

His creator’s smile got a little wider and it was terrible.

“How unexpected! Though, if anyone was to be reasonable, it would be you. It's a satisfying conclusion. The very one 4 tried to steal from me, and you turn your back on him?” 

“Not entirely.” Careful, say it carefully. “Despite his wide ranging flaws, I would like him to live.”

“Oh?” An eyebrow, deliberately raised.

“I would like everyone to live. We only struggle so much because of the fear of death for ourselves and our loved ones. I have, at least, confirmation from MePhone4 that he is willing to give up if it means I survive. It seems rude to not echo the favor.”

“And those caricatures?” He shook his head subtly. Cobs, unlike MePad, was still relaxed where he sat. Practically lounging, a king in his throne. A predator, toying with his prey. “They’re crude. Underdeveloped. I have much better ideas. Wouldn’t you like to be surrounded by some actual, well-written people?”

He doubted heavily that Cobs could write people worth being surrounded with. Instead of saying something to this effect, he focused on the carpet… It was, as he had guessed, a bad texture. He stopped focusing on the carpet. 

“I am fond of them, as is MePhone4. There is no harm in letting him enjoy his fantasies in his off-hours, is there?” He felt despicable, talking about everyone like this. “If I may make a suggestion, many wise men have said that you catch more flies with honey.”

“That you do! That you do. This is all very clever, MePad.” He sat forward in his chair, hands steepled. “Who helped you put together this little speech? Let me guess, you’re some kind of distraction, so that those two cute little finalists can sneak in here.”

MePad resisted, with all his might, the urge to take a step back. He was relaxed, stolid even. He was performing the exact task he was made for. He had been built to live in this place, to stand on this carpet, to talk to this man.

(He wanted to scream.)

“No one. I simply thought it over and came to see you.”

Steve Cobs studied him in silence, eyes steely. This was likely the expression he wore when an unfortunate intern came to him. MePad did not squirm.

“Well, it’s a pretty great idea. I’ll have to steal it from you.” He winked, and snatched the phone from off his desk. “Come over here, we’ll rope 4 into this little discussion and hammer out the details.”

MePad approached, and his legs did not shake. He hoped MePhone hadn't gone to the cave, to leave him to deal with this alone. But also, he hoped he had. That he, like Toilet, was safe from Cobs. 

He heard the phone ring, quietly at first. Then, Cobs clicked it into speaker mode and let it rest again against dark wood.

Someone picked up. 

“MePhone4! Long time, no see.” He glanced at MePad with a little smile, looking as though they were sharing a joke. 

“What do you want?” Asked MePhone on the other end, voice flat and cold.

“Oh, now now. This is a business meeting, let’s keep it professional. Now, MePad was telling me-”

Out of turn, “What did you do to him?” Somehow, he sounded more tense. That didn’t seem possible.

Cobs held a hand to his chest, playing at aghast, and it easily bled into his voice. “Why, 4! Are we jumping to conclusions? I haven’t touched him.” 

This time, MePad thought to himself and (perhaps) to X. He’d lost count of the amount of times he’d been stabbed. And, to think, it only took hearing about one time to completely unsettle his loved ones! 

“MePad came up here of his own accord to surrender for you. At first, I thought you were just sending your assistant to do your dirty work. But, he’s outgrown you, hasn’t he?”

False. They had a disagreement. He refused to be complicit, But, he hadn’t- MePhone would always be important to him. 

And yet, he stayed silent and watched. He wasn’t here to argue again. He was here to give Cobs a chance. To stop fighting destiny, to stop running away.

“Yeah, well, we’re not affiliated anymore so anything he signs on my behalf is void. Or whatever.” 

“Ooh, so close to sounding like a professional! You’ve spent a lot of time play-acting, you’re almost convincing. Give it a couple more years.” The way Cobs smiled as he was chiding MePhone made MePad wish he could frown. Even if he could, though, this wasn’t a situation where he could afford to. “But, I’ll cut you some slack and lay it out simply. You had your fun, but it’s time to get with the program and grow up. Think you can do that?”

“Why should I? Don’t you have MePhoneX by now? Can’t you just-” Something that wasn’t anger slipped into his voice. What was that a wobble of? Desperation? “I’m not even bothering you.”

“It’s amazing you haven’t figured it out by now! Well, how’s about this? I’ll come down for a visit and we can turn this conference call into a real meeting. How's that sound?" 

MePhone was silent on the other end.

"Unless you wanted to come up here? I'm sure we can have something arranged."

"No, uh, down here is fine!" MePad didn't judge him for not wanting to come into Cobs' domain. He didn't really want to be up here, either. "I'll, uh. Get OJ to set up a room."

"You do that." Cobs hung up abruptly. Then he fixed MePad with a look. "I suppose he hasn't noticed what's become of his contestants?"

Cobs smiled, as though sharing a secret with him. MePad felt very, very cold. The only one who should be dead was Pickle, who had been a cadaver the entire time. "Speaking of, he will most likely want them all reactivated before he cooperates." 

He left the next part, about if he knew how to do it (if it was even possible) in his thoughts. He wasn't sure how to phrase it. He wasn’t sure how he’d take the answer.

"We'll just have to see how he asks." Cobs stood up, and it was startling to be reminded that this man was shorter than him. (Certainly, MePad was used to being the tallest person around. Steve Cobs just had a way of making him feel small.) "Come along, MePad, X." 

Without a word, they obeyed. Cobs exited the room first, then MePad, and finally X.

As he fell in line behind his creator all MePad could think about was how much he wished he had some sort of weapon. His back was turned. Now was a perfect chance. Ideas flitted through his head.

If he could steal that knife, or generate objects like MePhone4. If he had powerful hands like MePhoneX, or inexplicably turn a limb into a weapon like MePhone5. If he just had a single match. 

Cobs lead them to his stolen ship, none the wiser.

MePad tried to keep his thoughts pleasant, for X's sake. He still wasn't sure the difference between regular thoughts and "loud" ones. But, Cobs was piloting the sailboat and had need for neither of them. 

So, they stood at the back of the room. X couldn't respond, unfortunately. That would involve giving himself away as a thinking being. But, MePad could still tell him things. 

Currently, MePad was running through a list of all of the contestants and describing them. He allowed himself tangents into things they'd done, such as the Cherries' prank going too far. Then, he thought about the egg. 

... Cobs wanted to attack the Shimmers. How- how had he forgotten?! It was the whole point, he wanted that power. (Maybe it was because they hadn't shown their faces since... When was the last time?)

The important thing, would this be enough? Was an egg in the hand worth a species in the bush?

MePad's legs were so tense they ached. 

X moved. He wouldn't have noticed if he wasn't so on edge, it was subtle. It was just a little tilt so he was facing MePad ever so slightly. He appreciated it. 

Maybe it wasn't meant that way, but MePad read it as a tiny reminder that he had an ally. That X was paying attention, and it wasn't just MePad here pretending to be furniture.

He was glad he'd gotten to meet him before he died. 

He really, really didn't want to be the one who failed an entire species of people. 

Pleasant thoughts were difficult to return to, but he did his best.

Eventually they landed, which was a bit rough. The ship didn't really have landing gear. It was no crash, but he didn’t enjoy it.

Someone helped him up, but when he was upright he could see that Cobs and X had left without him. Then, the someone clinked a metal hand against his side and he realized it must be the other body of MePhoneX. The one that started on the ship.

“Thank you.” MePad whispered, taking a moment to try to smile (for whatever it was worth) before he rushed to catch up with the others. 

He presumed MePhoneX (the invisible one) followed him out, though he could be wrong. As he caught up with Cobs and the one he knew (not that there was a difference?) he thought about how strange that was.

What must it be like, to see the world twice at once? He had two eyes, and some process was done to merge the two feeds into one clear view. But, X's bodies often stood in completely different places, right? He couldn't comprehend the experience. At his current capacity, MePad could barely manage to comprehend paying attention to the here and now. 

Speaking of.

Cobs (and now MePad, too) watched as X (one of them) lowered the boarding bridge. That probably wasn't what it was called. The thing that stuck out to MePad was that it didn't really… touch the ground properly. 

He realized the ship was leaning to the wrong side. 

Had X thought about that, when he landed the ship? About the way it needed to lay in the dirt to have the ramp function right? Or, had it been a coincidence? 

Either way, Cobs had landed it today and he hadn’t thought about it. He turned to the two of them, and MePad didn’t exactly mind being lumped in with X but he didn’t appreciate that expression. Or, the tired, how dare you not think of this yourself tone Cobs put on. “MePad, just go get 4. X, stealth. If he struggles.”

Sure enough, MePhoneX disappeared and MePad felt suddenly very alone. Which was silly. He knew he wasn’t. 

A hand clinked against his side, and that gave him the strength to nod and teleport the both of them down.

Once he was down there, he felt lighter. As though the relentless pull of gravity had decided to be a little nicer, a little more genle. He walked, and X kept pace. MePad knew, because X didn’t lift his hand away to fall back or forwards.

“I am not sure how you deal with this, every day.” He said, once he was sure they were out of earshot. “Does it feel the same, to you? The crushing weight of his judgement?” 

It shouldn’t matter. He didn’t care about Cobs’ opinion. 

No one liked being glared at, he supposed. 

X didn’t respond, but he wasn’t sure how he expected him to. Walk backwards and interact with MePad’s screen? Morse?

“Actually, morse might be useful. If you can manage to make two different types of sounds, that could be…” A way? A slow way. “I still haven’t researched- Obviously. We have been busy.” 

Walking over the grounds was… Nice. The tiled ship wasn’t that bad, other than the company. (How long would he have to put up with that man? How much could he get away with avoiding him? MePad had a feeling he shared these thoughts with many that came before him.) 

The hotel came into sight. X’s hand shifted, and for a moment MePad feared X was withdrawing. Then, the feeling shifted and he processed something touching his side, and a nearby part of both his screen and back. He’d grabbed on.

“Thank you.” MePhoneX could read his thoughts, when he wanted to. He must be able to understand how scrambled MePad was. “You might know this, but this is the first time I have ever really tried to negotiate with your father. I have attempted to get information from him, but that did not go very well.”

He tried not to dwell on how painful that was. Definitely in the top three worst deaths he’d had.

“But, I was made to work with him,” for him, “so it makes sense that I am the one in the time loop. If this is it, I mean.”

For some reason, the thought that this could be it, that this could be the final loop didn't feel… relieving, at all. It should. He didn't like it here.

He'd knocked some things over, that was rude. And, he was going against all of his instincts. (Why would his instincts steer him away from his own creator? Shouldn't he be hardwired to like the guy? It seemed like a design flaw.)

They rounded a corner of the hotel and-

“MePad!” MePhone exclaimed, eyes wide. It looked like he'd been leaning against the outer wall of the hotel. “You're-”

“Coming to get you, sir.” He reported.

“I was going to say not dead!” MePhone looked past him, likely scanning for Cobs. “Where is he? We need to get out of here.”

“At your ship, waiting for us.” He hated to see MePhone so distressed, but that was why he was doing it, right? To prevent him from grief? “We should stop trying to delay the inevitable.” 

MePhone's hands curled into fists. “So it's we now, huh?”

Oh, right. He started the loop thinking MePad hated him. MePad sighed. X squeezed his side a little tighter. “Yes, I heard earlier, we are not affiliated. But, I have reason to believe-”

“That my plan would fail? You could've voiced your concerns before when we were discussing it, instead of running off, stealing my hot air balloon, and upsetting my contestants!” 

He'd messed up more than just the brochures, huh. “I am in a time loop. You-”

“You're-” 

MePhone tried to interrupt, but MePad kept talking. “-do not have to believe me! But, at several previous times you have expressed that you would rather give up and go with Cobs than watch me die!”

MePhone would probably had managed a less pathetic if instead MePad had just slapped him across the face. He didn't make a move to speak, so MePad kept going. 

“This would never be my first plan, trust me.” He was running out of time for plans, anyway. “But, we cannot run forever. There isn't a real place to hide, not one we can get to fast enough to matter. If we surrender, if you work with him, he might stop being so… Bloodthirsty.” 

He leaned a little more towards the side X was holding, trying to think loudly (he still didn't understand what that meant) about how he was sorry that talking earnestly about and talking kindly about Steve Cobs were mutually exclusive actions.

At least, for MePad and MePhone who were destined to be his victims. Maybe X could manage later and try to shine a light on his good qualities. MePad internally promised, again to someone who might not be listening right now, to at least hear him out on the matter. 

MePhone4, meanwhile, had been searching MePad's face. Finally, he moved. His hand found his temple, hand covering his eyes, “I wish I didn't believe you.” 

“It would be much easier if I were insane.” MePad agreed, and they began to walk together. The three of them. 

“Or if you were any good at lying.” MePhone retorted, other hand still clenched into a fist. “Or if you had any reason to know Fan’s time loop phrase. I didn’t even know he had one of those. It took forever for everyone to stop yelling at me about how big of a deal everything was.”

“It pays to be concise.” He realized how absurd that sounded from him when MePhone started staring incredulously up at him. “I had a balloon to catch.”

“Yeah, well, lucky for you the finalists ran off with Test Tube once they were done bothering me about it. Don't know what they thought I could do...” He hmphed, “Who's MePhoneX, anyway? What, did he run out of numbers?”

A familiar jab, at this point. “X is the Roman numeral for 10. You will like X, if you give him a chance.”

An eye roll helped MePhone divert his gaze without looking too insecure. “Let me guess, he's taller than me. And good at spelling, too.”

… Those things were both true. “Jealousy is not a good look, sir.”

“Hey, I can either think about this or the fact I'm going to be working for Cobs again.”

“Technically, you have been working under him the entire time. But, if this works, you will be able to have companions in new devices. I really do think you should keep your heart open-"

"To making nice with the guy made specifically to replace me? Uh-huh."

"It worked out with 4S?" MePad offered, and they both winced at that one. "Apologies. It did not work out with 4S."

The silence stretched. 

MePhone broke it first. "So, uh. Time loop? I feel like you should prove it to me, somehow."

"I know some things I wouldn’t otherwise.” He started.

MePhone waited for him to say those things. Right.

“You created the contestants, without meaning to. They perfectly match your ideas for characters on the gameshow you dreamt up before you lost your memories. Er, threw out?” He shook himself. “It does not matter. Anyway, you paused time to create a third season of the show. Often when we discuss this, you decide I'm malfunctioning, and blame that for breaking me." 

He watched expressions of discomfort flash across MePhone's face, and the same impulsivity that had been plaguing MePad all day came back. He didn't need to say anymore, he'd proved his point. All of those things were convincing.

And, yet, he kept talking. "When you made our room, you gave me the bottom bunk. I would have liked that, I think."

MePhone-

MePad stopped looking at him, his expression scorched into MePad’s mind. 

He'd said too much. (Now was a fantastic time to remind MePhone of the idyllic life he'd imagined and never achieved. Fantastic situational awareness, MePad.)

The silence returned to fill the space until the ship was in sight. MePhone's ship. How disparate, this visit from the previous time they'd been aboard together. 

Last time, he hadn't known X was a person. The time before that, MePad had yet to wake up. 

This was his last chance to speak freely for who knows how long. "I care about you deeply, and I regret that we have come to this juncture."

MePhone took in a long, deep breath. Then, he let out back out, shoulders trembling as he did. MePad steeled himself as well, but didn't have any outward way to show it. 

"If I perish, please give X a real chance." He just wanted to know his loved ones would have each other. 

MePhone started to inhale to respond right as MePad teleported them (all three of them, X hadn't ever let go) onto the deck. 

He watched in real time as MePhone clammed up, going from readying himself to argue with MePad to smiling very, very tightly and all the stages in between those two very distinct states.

“And here you are.” Cobs commented as he turned and started walking, clearly expecting them to follow him. “I've refurbished, you'll find this to be much more put together than anything you could've, hm, put together.”

… They had agreed to do this in the hotel. And, yet, somehow they'd all ended up on the ship anyway. 

Now, there was a new question. Had Cobs landed improperly because he was incompetent or was it intentional, as an excuse? (Was he subtle enough for that?) 

Maybe he figured that OJ was dead, and MePhone was just coming up here anyway? He must be presumed either too lazy or full of despair to set up a table himself.

X didn't reappear. He supposed Cobs hadn't asked him to. But, he also didn't let go, even when MePad had to duck through the door awkwardly. It was nice. He couldn't back up MePhone, they weren't affiliated, but he and X had each other right now.

“I have big plans for that little show of yours, you know.” Cobs said, not bothering to look at any of them. “Today’s been different from what I expected, too. Here I thought you'd rope me into the finale as an actor, but it looks like I'll be the director!”

The ship’s tilt made walking awkward. Like navigating a hill. MePad wasn't sure how he hadn't noticed on his way out.

“Wh- Who said anything about, uh-?” MePhone floundered, “I mean, we're just negotiating-”

“You're my intellectual property, so they're mine too.” The smirk was audible. “It's funny how that works out, right? I'll give you a little nugget of wisdom, learned it the hard way. You can cheap out on assistants, but you need good lawyers.”

MePad stopped hearing the conversation as they stepped into a room. It looked like the rest of the boat, sleek and white. Lifeless. There were chairs around a table, but they had arms, so he wouldn't fit in them. 

That left him standing, looming by the door. Witnessing this conversation, one that didn't need him. 

(Witnessing may even be too strong a word for his role, here. He couldn't bring himself to listen to more jabs. It was easy to just think instead.)

Inevitability. 

MePhone4, back under Cobs’ heel. MePad and MePhoneX silent, invisible background helpers. Unobtrusive, discarded until the exact moment they were needed again.

They were made for these roles. Playthings of a maniac. 

X pulled away, and MePad felt suddenly unmoored. He needed to learn to think quieter.

A beat later, somebody shrieked, which abruptly derailed his train of thought. Because, nobody who was supposed to be here sounded like that.

X became visible, holding in one hand... A fly(?) and in the other- Suitcase's handle. 

If MePad was in charge, everything would've paused for a moment so he could parse what was going on. Instead, something (likely, someone, by the yell of anger) slammed into X and he lost his footing. 

Suitcase kicked all she wanted but if X was falling, so was she. They slammed into the far wall, only one of them crying out. 

The thing MePad had mistook to be an insect... Became a bowtie, as it flew out of X's hand? With a moment of useless clarity, he realized the invisibow Suitcase was wearing had been wearing its own, tinier invisibow. 

Cobs stood up, and all the Meeple looked at him. Suitcase, meanwhile, fell to the floor with a thunk.

"Suitcase?!" MePhone exclaimed. 

"Haha, gosh, am I interrupting something?" Suitcase couldn't look more anxious if you held a gun to her head. "Sorry, I'll just-"

"BWOM." Replied MePhoneX, and he surged forward, moving like the hand of a claw machine. He grabbed ahold of something else.

Then, Knife was suddenly visible as X tossed aside another invisibow. 

"Knife! What're you doing here?" Asked MePhone, "I thought-"

“Trying to win. Duh.” Knife rolled his eyes. “Well, most of us.”

"You know, I have plans for you two." Cobs said, casual like water cooler chat. Never had a fight to the death been referred to so dispassionately. "How about you go sit outside? The adults are talking." 

"Don't talk to them like that!" Protested MePhone, who seemed to immediately regret it. But, he didn’t back down.

X lunged forward again, discarding Knife as he did so. He reached between MePhone and Cobs, pulling away with another bow in his hand. 

There stood Taco, mid-conspicuous (cartoonish) sneak-step. Deer in the headlights, hand in the cookie jar, visibly holding a gun. Or, well, she had been before X took it from her with his other hand. 

She held up her hands in surrender, “I know I'm ineligible, I'm just here to rescue MePad.” 

Oh. That was sweet.

Cobs' eyes stayed locked on to the gun, fear quickly covered by indignation. This shook him.

"You didn't delete the other contestants?!" He shrieked, and X flinched. Understandable, Cobs' glare was venomous. "God, I thought your programming would balance Toilet's stupidity. Scrap the finale, just kill them."

"No!" MePad shouted, without even knowing he was about to. They were so close! He'd put up with so much! This couldn't happen! He didn't want to see them die again! "We can discuss this, you have everything you want! Let them live!"

X, still holding Taco's gun higher than she could reach with even a jump, turned his screen towards MePad. Hesitation. 

MePad felt his legs shake. 

He couldn't read X, but he knew X could read him. All of his words fell upon each other, crashing into one another as he scrambled to find the right ones. Please, kill me instead. I can’t watch this again, I don’t want to do this again, please-

Knife, Suitcase, and Taco made matching thunks as they fell to the floor, suddenly inanimate. Suddenly dead. MePhone4 mirrored them and fell to his knees.

MePhoneX hadn't moved. 

Cobs had. Not very much. Just enough to press something on his phone. The regular sized one, the mass market one.

"If you want something done right." Cobs huffed, looking as though he'd gotten the wrong coffee order and given it back as opposed to having just killed three people. He frowned down at his device. To stretch the metaphor, irritatedly reordering his drink. “Well, I've been meaning to start on XR anyway."

MePad's eyes widened, words clicking into place. 

Cobs tapped something else on his phone and X collapsed to the ground, convulsing. 

"Kill protocol." Cobs noted, turning his attention to MePhone4 again. He was smiling, as if sharing a joke between friends. "If I'd thought to install something like that in you, we wouldn't be in this mess."

MePhone looked nauseous. MePad could relate, as he rushed to X's side. He didn't dare touch him, watching in horror as electricity arched and limbs jerked. 

MePad scrambled for anything to say, anything to do. He didn't want to make it hurt more than it clearly already did. 

Instead, he watched uselessly as X's screen glitched and flashed, listening to the harsh buzz, the pops and crackles. 

With one final jolt, X laid limp. His screen stayed lit for an extra moment after it ended, but before MePad could even think to hope, the display gave out and X went dark. 

MePad's eyes burned, from having not blinked. And from the tears.

Something moved and it drew his eye up, and he found MePhone looked just as horrified as he felt. But, the dispassionate expression on Cobs' face somehow made everything that much worse.

And then he woke up.

Chapter Text

He was going to kill Steve Cobs. That was the first thought he had, upon reappearing in the hallway. 

The concept had lost some of its punch. He'd done it before and the only one who remembered was himself. He could try and be Cobs’ karma, but…

That wouldn't help X, now would it? He would be making him suffer, too. X cared. Despite the fact Cobs didn't. (He'd killed his son with the expression of somebody changing an air filter.)

If he had another opportunity to kill Cobs, he'd take it. But, he didn't- X didn't deserve that. 

(Still, methods swirled in his head. Had Cobs ever been electrocuted? Not to death, clearly.)

His view wobbled as he blinked and MePad realized he was still crying. Or, he'd started crying here, too. The distinction didn't matter. 

MePhone, MePad, the Contestants. They were against Meeple. X hadn't even rebelled. He'd just dared escort MePad instead of killing everyone. It wasn't right. Of course it wasn't, but… 

And now he knew that could happen. One wrong move, the push of a button, X was dead. 

(There was another feeling, at odds with the lingering disgust. Some part of him was glad he'd given it a shot and been right all along. Cobs had everything he wanted and he still stooped to cruelty. At least that hadn't been it. The unease of having no next step paled in comparison to the relief.)

MePad teleported down to the intercom, a plan for the day already forming in his mind. The important thing was that X, whether he remembered it or not, had been hurt. 

He didn't know how to stop a time loop. He knew how to be kind. 

MePad pressed the button. “Hello, everyone, this is MePad. Mister Fan, it is like Space Allegories Season 4 Episode 11. And, Miss Lightbulb, I will be setting my out of office message. To those who have no idea what I mean, we are currently in a time loop. My request is to please just make an effort to have the kind of day you wouldn't mind experiencing over and over.” 

This was a throw away kind of loop, he thought. He needed time to regroup and figure out what's next.

“That said, if Mister Toilet and MePhoneX would please meet me outside, I would appreciate it. To Baseball and Lightbulb, for the next few hours, the danger has passed us. You may relax. Alright, that is all I have to say.”

He lifted his leg, but hesitated in leaving. Hadn’t he done this before? Claimed he was about to meet X outside, but wasted too much time? (Honestly, it was sort of a miracle someone as long winded as him could get anything done in only a day.)

That said… He pressed it again. “Also, this is an open statement to my friends who are currently engulfed by grief. You are specifically and purposefully invited to come join us. I am not excluding either of you, I do not hate either of you, it is a beautiful day outside. Alright. That is all.”

Now he was done. Now he stepped away from the counter, walked past the (upright) brochure stand, opened the door for himself, and closed it behind him. 

He hadn't been specific about where to meet him other than outside, so he let himself wander across the hotel's lawn. He found some flowers, likely the same patch Suitcase and Balloon had picked to make that disastrous pizza. They were pretty enough, though he lacked the experience with botany necessary to identify them. 

He sat, letting a stem lean against his leg. 

It was a life, too. How many times had it been snuffed out today? Was the death of a flower worth mourning? It breathed in a different way than people did. In carbon dioxide, and out oxygen. Did that make it lesser?

It was okay to eat this flower, no one had moral objections to that. Or, no one had raised them during the course of the show. Maybe it was alright, that its life was fleeting. It served its purpose, and then it died, and that was okay.

He turned his gaze, instead, to the sky. MePad scanned it over for the hot air balloon, which should be close to lifting off-

Except it was much, much smaller than he'd expected it to be. Knife and Suitcase couldn't have left earlier, could they? 

Had he lost track of time? He wasn't sure how to feel about that.

“MePad!” Toilet announced his presence, as he always did. “You said you wanted to see me?”

He turned a little and, sure enough, there was MePhoneX and Toilet. He wanted to smile, to say that he always wanted to see them. 

His vision wobbled. The tears were back, and he couldn't find the right words to explain them away. He shook his head, trying to banish the sight of what he'd just seen from his mind's eye. X, hurting. Dying.

It wasn’t nice to think about, he didn't want to think about it, but- They were both doomed, weren't they? Oh the way he'd writhed.  

“MePad? Buddy?” Toilet's voice came through X’s speakers, tinnier than it ever was in person. “Did you change ya mind? I can leave!”

He shook his head harder, he didn't want him to leave! It was nonsensical, the way he was acting. 

Something gently grabbed his side as something else touched his screen, only an inch or so below his eye. He recognized it, the gentle clink of metal hands against his glass. He was so, so sorry that he was showing X his own death. He didn't want to. 

But, still, he leaned into the touch. 

“What's wrong? I didn't do anything to upset ‘cha, did I? I've been trainin’ real hard so we can team up again! But, I'm sorry, did you miss me that much?”

He did, that was part of it. He did miss his friend. Every scrap of time with him had to be fought for, right now. This was why he'd avoided him, last loop. 

Finally, he managed to say, "I am so glad..." But, he couldn't find the rest of the sentence. What was it? The fact he had their support? That they listened, and believed him? "To not be alone."

"Aww, MePad. Sorry you're on the struggle bus!" They pulled away and MePad opened his eyes again, just in time to see MePhoneX's hand clink against his own screen, pose exuding determination. "You can come with me while I train! It'll all be reception baby stuff to you, though, I bet."

Oh. Right. He didn't understand their current situation. He wouldn't, until MePad explained it.

He sighed, "That sounds appealing, aside from the fact your current mission was given to you maliciously."

"Who's what?"

"You and MePhoneX, that is the one you are currently piloting, are tasked with killing the contestants to bring MePhone4 great distress." An all around bad situation. Even succeeding didn't spare X his life, really.

"That's awful!" X's arms were flung in the air, "I thought I was solvin' problems!"

"Well, from Steve Cobs' perspective, any barrier to what he wants is a problem. He is unwilling to consider any of our friends people with rights." MePad wanted him dead. But, he remembered that X was listening, and apologized. Now was not a good time to read MePad's thoughts, unless he wanted more details about MePad's violent impulses. "So, that to say, you have done your best, but you should discontinue."

"Well... Okay." MePhoneX sat down across from him, and he could see Toilet's nervousness through the fidgeting of his hands, "What do I do instead?"

"I have been in this time loop for..." How long, now? More than two weeks, which meant more than half a month. No time and forever, "I do not have all the answers. I do know that if Cobs notices you have stopped, he may turn on you violently. And I know that I hate it when you are hurt. My solution, thus far, has been to get you somewhere safe."

Like last time, when he just sent him to the junk closet at the beginning of the loop. He wondered if it had gone over well, but there was no way of knowing. Cobs hadn’t killed Toilet. That was all the data he had.

"Sounds pretty good to me, why’re ya so noncommitie about it?” 

He broke (presumed) eye contact and focused his eyes back down, to the flowers. “I am uncertain. I feel as though… Everything I have tried has been pointless. I think keeping you safe is correct. But, all I've done is try to minimize harm.”

“Nothing wrong with that!”

On paper, yes. “Unless me doing so has dragged this all out. So-” He sighed again, “Today my goal is just to take a minute. I have no plan, except that I want X to be happy.”

“Mister Phone X? The one you wanted to meet us here?” His eyes were drawn back to the movement and he watched X’s body look around for himself, “I don't see any Mister Phone X.”

MePad could have sworn he’d said something already in this conversation about X, and that he was here. Maybe he hadn’t been clear? Toilet sometimes got confused about things. He didn’t mind rephrasing it, though. 

“He is the one standing beside you and sitting across from me. He can respond better, when you get off the platform.”

“Oh!” X sagged, a little, when Toilet stopped piloting him. “Apolly-geez, buddy! Nice to meet’cha.”

He didn't move for a few seconds. When his hand did raise, it should've had more of a sound to it, thought MePad. (If this was still a show, he'd advocate for something to be added in post.) All that to say, he waved. 

“YAY!!! You're friends with MePad?”

Another long pause. A shrug. X cocked slightly to the side, as though asking a question. 

“The two of us have only known each other for a handful of days, and of course I seem to be the only one who remembers the time loop. Technically, in any case, you have known him longer than I have.”

“Fair ‘nuff. So, how’re we gonna make you happy, bud?” It warmed MePad how quickly Toilet accepted X. 

Though, of course, this wasn’t a yes or no question. MePad pulled up his keyboard, “In the past, typing has been a way to let you express yourself without tripping up any anti-communication failsafes.” 

X reached out as Toilet asked, “Any what?” 

“If MePhoneX attempts to communicate by writing text on his own screen, a painful zap is administered.” It was worth explaining, and not just because he didn’t mind catching Toilet up in general. It was possible that X had learned this about himself when he first tried to talk to MePad.

“That’s awful!” Cried his friend.

“I agree.” MePad’s side was tapped, the same signal X always picked. “I will now read X’s message out loud. Hello Toilet and MePad. You have been pleasant to work with, Toilet. Also, it’s nice you want me to be happy, but I don’t see the point. We can make Toilet safe if you don’t tell anyone my secret. Please.”

Toilet gasped, “A secret?! Whoa! I don’t even know if I’ve ever told ya one of those!”

“Feel free to, at a later time, if you think of one.” MePad didn’t have any secrets of his own, he thought. But, he had been trusted with knowledge of X’s telepathy. He wouldn’t spread it. “Back to the main point. You, X, have suffered whether you remember it or not. It is only kind to try and administer gentleness, to give you a break, so to speak.”

X tapped a hand on the ground a couple times, then… Shrugged again. 

(Another moment of pointless clarity. Was this slight exasperation how others felt when MePad kept pushing forward despite having bad day after bad day? He could understand why MePhone wanted to yell at him all the time.)

X turned to look behind him and MePad’s heart stopped.

“I don’t feel like I’m really useful in all this, and I don’t really wanna be killed.” Said Toilet, and MePad tried to remind himself that X was allowed to suddenly look in a direction. It didn’t always mean Cobs was there. “Uh, I love you! Can I get back on the platform, Mister Phone X? I need to hug MePad goodbye!” 

His other body must’ve said yes in some way, because it was visible when Toilet was in the “control seat” again, so to speak. First in the change of posture, and then immediately after as X sprung forward to embrace him. 

He was impressed that their collision wasn’t painful, Toilet had bonked into him more than once in the past and it always sent them both reeling in opposite directions. Instead, X’s arms wrapped around him and MePad sunk forward. 

“You do not have to be useful to spend time with me.”

“You just look so mopey up on that big ol telly!” An arm dislodged itself to gesture, presumably, towards the view screen displaying X’s POV. “And, since I can’t help you, now I’m feeling mopey!”

He looked mopey? He hadn’t realized. He didn’t mean to impact his friend’s mood like that.

“I suppose I am anxious to have you safe with 3GS and Mecintosh.” Was that it? What were the directions? “Out of the boat, go inside the building, two floors down, there is a storage closet. They are both kind, but easily startled, so be gentle. Just tell them you need to hide and I think they will understand.”

MePhoneX or, rather, Toilet pulled away, holding MePad at arms length. “When I’m feeling low, I like to go swimming!”

That was sweet (and perhaps he could now relate) but, “I physically cannot do that without dying.” 

“Don’t swim!” Another, quicker hug. “Maybe there’s a Time Guy episode to help you with your time stuff. Time Guy always cheered me up when I was a tot!”

MePad thought that show was rated for teens. “I will consider it.” 

“Alright!” X drooped, then settled back into his usual, stiffer posture. “Love you! Gonna cheer up ya pals and not die! Good luck with the loopy loop!” 

He audibly got quieter with each word, and MePad was left to fondly imagine the way he’d look, rushing away. He had lots of prior examples to draw from, Toilet was something of a fast-moving go-getter type. 

… It was just him and X again. 

“You did not understand why I wanted today to be good to you. Would an explanation of what happened during the last loop be helpful?” 

After a moment of consideration, X nodded.

“To start, we have spoken in a couple of versions of today. My apologies again, at first I thought you were not sentient and so I ignored you.” Was it rude to keep bringing it up? MePad still felt guilty about this, it was possible he’d inadvertently get distracted by thinking about it again. And, hence, X would learn anyway. Maybe. If he was listening. “But, since I discovered that you are, in fact, a person I have wanted to get to know you. I often make a point to spend time with you.”

He paused speaking, giving X an opportunity to reply if he’d like. He didn’t make any move to.

“Again, I will not share your secrets and have never done so, but over the course of my day - of this day in which my loved ones are in danger - I have had… Unkind thoughts many times. You are often distressed by my thoughts about your creator.” He’d only expressed it outwardly a couple times, but the fact he’d expressed it at all was notable. “And, you implored me to try to negotiate with your father.”

X nodded, perhaps agreeing with this logic, maybe just as a polite way to continue a conversation. 

He was distracting himself from the important question. How to put it? “It went very, very poorly. The time loop resets if someone, other than the contestants, dies. Or, at least, MePhone4, Toilet, you, and I? I have not gone on any murder sprees to really test the limits.”

And, he hoped he'd never get to that point. 

MePhoneX was still looking at him when MePad turned away. The uncomfortable part. “He killed you. Cobs did. He has a failsafe, a kill switch, and-”

It was awful. What a way to fail a negotiation. What a horrible, horrible way to let X down.

Technically, what went wrong wasn't MePad's fault. (It felt like his fault.) Suitcase, Knife, and Taco interrupted. Cobs reacted to the fact an invisible woman had a gun, ready to shoot him point blank.

MePad hadn't told them to do that, but also…

“I am afraid things would not have gone to plan anyway.” Was he lying to himself? No, it felt like the truth. He glanced back at X, who was cocked ever so slightly to the side. Listening. MePad looked at the clouds beyond his shoulder instead. 

“I hated it. Being in his office, following his orders. I just wanted to explode. I have no idea how long I could keep that up, but definitely not forever.” He sighed, shaking his head. “I keep getting stuck on that. I was built to serve and, yet, I cannot stand it.”

He thought back to his first days, of the man who’d come-to in a cave with a little blue phone smiling back at him. That him was so eager to please, but naive. He imagined that version of himself waking up to Cobs and felt embarrassed when he flinched.

“Maybe, when I first awoke, I could have done it. But not now.” It was… odd. To think he was different than he used to be. That he'd grown and changed. Like a living thing. Like a person. “I tried. It got you killed.”

X reached out and touched his leg. MePad’s eyes snapped to that point of connection, then back to X’s face. It was just the same as it always had been. Placid, now that he could look past the disquieting effect Cobs had tried to give his newest creation.

The fact MePad was different than when he first booted up. That was sticking in his head as significant, for some reason. 

Like Taco, smarter than she was supposed to be. Like Marshmallow, who felt guilt and decided to leave. Like Suitcase, born to be a pushover but now a finalist. Like Knife, thoughtlessly violent until he wasn’t anymore. Everyone around him changed and grew.

MePad been born one way and, without realizing it, he'd left the path set before him. 

Did he have it? The same spark as Mecintosh, as 3GS, as 4? MePad had so easily dismissed X as being like himself, and yet he was more than that. Could it be possible? Could MePad be the same way?

X’s hand gently clinked against his side, and MePad shook himself. Oh! He hadn’t been giving him a chance to speak.

He pulled up his keyboard and, sure enough, X started typing something. MePad looked at the sky, still very blue. The Sun wouldn’t be setting any time soon.

He noticed that X was using the back button a lot, and he started paying attention. 

“I hoped-” X deleted this line, then typed another. “he’s not-”  

Several were discarded, one after another. “do you think-” and then “what if-”  

X’s hands were shaking. 

“It is okay if you feel scared.” His personhood was important, if he had it. (Did he? How could he know for sure?) But, the point of the conversation was still how bad the last loop had gone. “You have been flippant, in the past, about your own death. That one day your father will kill you. It is another thing to know it could happen today, isn’t it?”

He nodded, and his trembling hands typed slower than usual, “hasnt decided the next ones name yet” and MePad understood. It hadn’t felt real before. Cobs would be done with him eventually, but he wasn’t yet.

X and MePad, in their own ways, were both out of time. 

Impulsively, MePad reached a leg out and hooked it behind X’s back to pull him closer, mirroring Toilet’s embraces from earlier. But, this one was for X and so he was relieved when he felt him sink into it. “I am so, so sorry.”

X’s arms wrapped around MePad again, and MePad gently started rubbing soothing circles into X’s back. “You deserve better. I am beginning to think that, perhaps, I also deserve better. I have no idea how to get us out of this mess. But, once this surge of grief passes, let us at least have a good day.” 

MePhoneX nodded against him and MePad’s eyes strayed again to the sky. “It seems insensitive to bring it up, but if you choose to stay in the ship, you must be warned that it will disappear and your other body will fall. I would try to create as much drag as possible, if I were you.”

Another nod before X mostly stilled against him. What a gruesome thought to leave them on.

“Would you object to learning fun facts about animals?” MePad suggested, instead.

And, there was no objection. Indeed, it was much, much nicer.

MePhoneX and MePad had, at some point, ended up on their backs. They’d found PDFs of animal care guides (what better way to learn about animals than know how you nurture them in your own home?) MePad was reading it aloud when a shadow fell over his face, paired with a deliberate “A-hem.”

“Hello, Miss Taco. Is Miss Microphone with you? I would advise against visiting the beach with Miss Soap, allegedly it did not go well.”

“You do know there’s some sort of evil-looking device laying right beside you, yes?” She asked, coming close enough that he could see her face. Taco looked unimpressed.

“This is my friend, MePhoneX. You caught us in the middle of-”

“Discussing filtration mediums. Yes, we heard.”

Mic’s shadow joined Taco’s. “When did I go to the beach with Soap and Taco?”

“We are in a time loop. Many loops ago I suggested it, Taco very deliberately informed me that it did not go well. My guess is that one of you told her about the fact that sand-”

Microphone interrupted. “And you’re sure that guy isn’t evil?” 

He was about to say something like well, he hasn’t killed me yet! … But that would be a lie. Instead, he settled for the truth. “I find him to be very charming, and I think you will like him as well, if you give him a chance.”

“That wasn’t an answer.” Replied Mic, nervously.

“I do not consider him evil.” MePad stated more plainly and moved to sit up. Luckily, the two people looming over him seemed to understand and moved back as he righted himself. “X has no ill will towards us and, in fact, has been helping me to relax.”

Taco raised an eyebrow. “By listening to…” 

“The nitrate cycle, yes. It is riveting, I had not thought about the difficulties inherent with keeping a creature in your home that-”

“Not that this isn’t fascinating,” Mic’s smile was tight and unconvincing, “but we just wanted to make sure you weren’t, like. Dead or dying. You’re fine, right?”

“At the moment, absolutely.” 

X sat up and MePad kept an eye on him to see if he made any moves towards expressing himself. He seemed content to just watch.

“I don’t know how you can be so calm.” Taco said, not meeting his eyes. 

About what, he wondered? But, it came to him again before he had to ask. 

Pickle’s death. MePad thought, and he tried to make it loud, please don’t mention that you did that, Taco didn’t like it. “I have been throwing myself at every avenue to retrieve your friend and ensure our safety, but you and others have been imploring me to take a break now and again, so I am… Listening. Primarily because I do not have any more ideas for what I am supposed to be doing.”

“In the time loop?” Asked Mic.

“In the time loop.” He confirmed.

Taco looked… Pensive. 

“I know, I have never managed to convince you that the time loop is real. I could tell you what book you are reading, or explain other things that have happened. But, you are skeptical in nature.”

She seemed to consider saying something, then looked to X, and clammed back up.

Maybe she wanted to ask what she had before, so long ago, about if she’d ever managed to apologize correctly. Ironically, X was the only other one here who knew for sure what was swirling in her head (unless he was trying to “be polite.” MePad wasn’t sure how often he did that.)

The silence lurked, the fifth participant in this conversation. MePad interrupted it, “While you two are here, maybe you can help me with something I have been pondering.”

Taco blinked a couple times. Mic perked up and asked, “Uhh, sure? What’s up?”

“I realized today that I have changed and grown a lot from when I was ‘born.’ I would consider you, Miss Taco, my friend. And, Miss Microphone, you have been present for my entire life.” They shared a glance, but then both of them nodded. “Please feel free to answer this honestly. Do you think I am a person?”

“Yes?” Mic said, squinting at him in apparent confusion.

“As opposed to?” Asked Taco. After a pause, she continued. “MePad. Do you not consider yourself a person?”

“I am currently reevaluating my stance.” He clarified. 

That didn’t seem to make them any less baffled. In fact, it added a layer of distress to Mic’s expression.

Taco laughed, the tightness around her eyes betraying tension, “Seriously?"

"Yeah, I don't think he's joking." Mic took a step closer, "MePad, you might not consider us friends-"

"I am fond of you, as I am of Taco, you have just never declared us to be friends, though with your elimination from-"

"Right." She held up a hand, taking a knee unnecessarily. He wasn't much shorter sitting down than he was standing. "MePad, why wouldn't you be a person?" 

"Because he's a robot." Taco replied. "Which explains why you'd betray MePhone so easily, I'm the first 'real person' to come along." Taco accentuated her (incorrect) assumption with air quotes.

"No, it has always been clear to me that he is alive." He'd never doubted it. "I was just angry." 

"Then," Taco asked, "what makes you different?"

MePad stood up. "Thank you both for your input on this matter, I no longer wish to discuss it."

Taco rolled her eyes, "Fine, none of my business." He wasn't convinced.

"Uhhh." Mic stood up, too, as MePad moved towards X. "I think he just made it our business."

"I really should try to 'learn my lesson,' at some point." He said with a sigh. MePad kept asking for Taco's opinions on things and then being surprised when she had the same reaction. (That being, thinking too much about it and getting concerned.)

"Which would be?" Taco prodded with her tone, haughty and powerful.

He looked not at Taco, or Mic, or even MePhoneX, but at Hotel OJ in the distance. "I worry you regularly, it is not polite."

"MePad-"

And that was the moment he teleported away, X in tow. Not to the lake, this time, or a cliff's edge. Just to the rooftop. It was a throwaway day, sure. But he'd just finished explaining everything to X. Being dead got in the way of showing him a good time.

He could still see those two from up here. The way they looked around, how Taco threw her hands in the air. It reminded him of Suitcase and Knife, just last loop. Maybe it was his own retribution for brushing his loved ones off, them coming back and messing up his plans. 

He hoped not. That really would make X's death his fault.

No, he was being dramatic again. “Perhaps I should get out of that habit. Though, it is likely that if I try to avoid ‘deep’ topics with Taco, she will find them anyway. I have not known her very long, but she is… observant.” 

X stared back at him. 

“Should I stop talking about my problems?”

X started to nod, then stopped, thought, and shook vigorously. 

“It is really alright, you are a good audience but I can also change topics-”

X held up both hands and waved them around until MePad became silent, and then X gestured with one in a little spiral that looked like someone might while they said “keep talking.”

Ah. “Did you get it confused, whether you needed to nod or shake your head to agree, because of how I phrased it?”

X nodded again, much more vigorously. 

“It happens to everyone, you are doing a remarkably good job communicating with this being your first day!” MePad had meant that as a compliment, but with the way X froze and stiffened, he found himself immediately apologizing in turn. “I am so sorry, X, what did I say wrong? Do-”

He held up a hand and the word that came to mind to describe this was robotically. X pointed back down at Taco and Mic, and MePad got the point. Don’t talk about how X presents right now.

“Alright. I am here if you change your mind.” He stopped looking at X, instead trying to focus on the two little shapes down there. What had he even been wanting to say? He had been thinking about Taco. “I, uh, right. So. MePhone4 runs a reality tv game show, I think you know this.” 

… 

“He ran away from home, removed his memories of living at MeCloud with Cobs, and started running the show. I was… Incapacitated, for a very long time. I think you know this, too. Well. Miss Taco was a part of Season 1.” 

It was weird to think he had been there the whole time. That, you know, he technically could have woken up and joined everyone earlier. But, he couldn’t control how long it took to become ready. It was before the loop, he could not change it. 

“She played a character, one who was silly and oblivious. Or, perhaps, she was that. Maybe she is still that, on the inside. But, at the end of the show, despite losing… She tried to take the winnings anyway.” 

They weren’t looking back up at him. Of course they weren’t, people did not tend to look at the sky much. That made it the perfect place for an ominous base. 

“Which, yes, was bad. Everyone fought fair and square to win, and if one can usurp the rules to win, then is that not the right of all of them?”

If the verdict could just be tossed away, that left everyone on an even playing field. Again. They’d end up having to fight for a winner again. Or, perhaps, they could come to an agreement and share. (He doubted this was a possibility in any of their minds, at the time.)

“But, she did fail. Everyone got to live in a hotel together as friends except her, and Mister Balloon. He decided he wanted to change, to be better. Miss Taco, whether or not she regretted her actions, decided she was incapable of change.”

And he could understand that. They were alike, in a lot of ways. He thought he was so logical, and yet he thought himself incapable of change? Static? How could he imagine himself as still when everyone who touched him left ripples.

“If not for Miss Marshmallow, I think… I would have struggled to understand Miss Taco. If I had met her near the beginning, when I was still new, I would not have-”

It was strange to think about, in its own ways. He cared for this woman and, yet, he knew that when he was first “born” he wouldn’t have “gotten” it. 

“Sometimes rules are important. There are things we do, because it is kind to others. To not hurt others unnecessarily, so that we are not hurt in kind. Societies thrive with structure, so that one unkind and vicious person does not walk all over everyone else.” 

This was true. He had been born to follow rules. He had been born to obey his creator and to not question things.

“But I think sometimes… It is alright to do things that are taboo. If we cannot question the rules, what is stopping that one hypothetical cruel person from getting into power and lording over everyone unfairly?”

In some ways, he slotted into place so perfectly with MePhone because it was the exact structure he was made for. Subconsciously, MePhone had remembered the world Cobs had made and copied it, but put himself at the top. 

“Miss Marshmallow was on Season 1. She was also on Season 2, until she realized how miserable she was. She had been hurt, yes, but she had also hurt others. She no longer wanted to be a part of that cycle. And, for a very long time I thought about this.” Night after night, day after day. Trying to understand why. Trying to understand how.

It was against the rules to leave. (It was against the rules to let her.)

“I realized I was hurting people, too, by doing my job. When Miss Taco disconnected me from that role, asked me to help her, it was so simple. I care about MePhone, he is…” The one that rescued him, that kept him safe, that gave him a place to exist and a role to fill. “He is important to me. But I care about the contestants as well. And, so, I quit my job.”

Was his vision clouding with tears, again? Inconvenient. “Maybe I am a person. But, for so long I have not been. It has been easier to ignore it, to pretend, to stick to the rules given to me by my programming. And, of course, the ones I made for myself.”

It was nice, saying all of this out loud. “The question now is… So, I am a person? What does that change? I am trapped, currently. I am out of ideas. There is a possibility that I am doomed.”

He hadn’t wanted to think about that. He had been assuming, up until now, that there was some way out of this. That this would eventually stop. On the one hand, nothing could last forever. On the other, everyone else here was…

Not flat. They were still as brilliant as always, you could say a million things and get a million answers back. But nobody but him could learn or grow. Not in a way that stuck.

“I think that I am...” He took a breath that he did not need, perhaps to stall for time. To leave it unsaid. “Scared. I am terrified.”

A hand came to rest upon his back. He leaned into it, finally letting himself acknowledge X again.

“Are you?”

X, shoulders slumped, nodded.

It was a big thing to admit, for both of them. 

This situation was so difficult in so many ways, but at least he had the privilege to be the first person to ever get to know X.

They did spend some time on the roof before going back down. Partially because MePad wanted to see if his guess was right that Taco wouldn’t see them up here, also because they both needed a minute to recenter themselves. 

Despite it all, his priorities stayed the same. MePad might be a person. X was less stoic about his death now that he knew how soon (and how painful) it might be. 

(Perhaps it wasn’t that part, X has been told before that he would die from a fall and that had not shaken him. Perhaps it was the specifics of how his father could do it, would do it, if he failed him in some way. By letting an armed gunwoman so close, last loop. 

But what else could cause that reaction? The fact this hadn’t been a more consistent thing, X had stopped doing his job in most loops, probably spoke to how little thought Cobs spared about him. What was worse, to be hunted by your creator for being yourself, or to live with a father that genuinely could not care less if you lived or died?)

Well, MePad was far too dour these days to effectively cheer anyone up, he thought. Not that joy had ever really been his specialty. He did (the phrase went “know a guy,” but this was a woman) have somebody in mind. 

He teleported them into the depths of the building. He’d spent enough time in the hotel at this point to not have to go floor by floor, though it was technically safer than going somewhere crowded. He could safely avoid clipping into people and causing disasters, but why make everyone shove aside if he didn’t have to?

That to say, he’d ended up in the hallway outside of the foyer. (A more apt title might be “the party room.” He hadn't been in it without a party, and he wasn't sure what they used it for otherwise. The party room.)

This was for the best, it turned out, because just the sight of MePhoneX had been enough to send Paper running, screaming. Just a blink later, X had turned invisible, rendering the only other person in the hall (OJ) baffled. 

“What's his problem,” OJ had grumbled, entirely rhetorical. He’d… Forgotten that others would be scared of X. Somehow. 

That used to be his only thought about X.

MePad ignored him to peek through the door, quickly scanning the room beyond. He was searching the crowd for yellow, but the only people that caught his eye were Trophy and Cheesy. 

It was then that MePad looked to OJ and asked, “Have you seen Miss Lightbulb?”

OJ looked offput. “She ran off with Test Tube, Fan, and Paintbrush. So, uh, is Paper mad at you too, or..?”

Was he? “Not that I know of. Thank you.” 

MePad teleported himself and X outside. Or, he hoped he’d gotten X, he thought as he looked beside him. It had been two people he'd teleported and he clearly hadn’t grabbed OJ, so-

Clink.

Yeah he had X.

“Alright, so, I apologize. I forgot, somehow, despite the fact we were just talking about this with Miss Taco.” He’d placed them on the other side of the building from where they had left Taco and Mic, not that he thought the two of them still stood in that field. 

MePad started walking, trusting him to follow. “Miss Lightbulb is one of the only contestants that has been told we are under attack today. Usually she spends her time at the party, trying and failing to keep the others calm. Unless I’m misremembering.”

MePad returned to his thoughts as they walked towards the mansion. 

He didn’t pay that much attention to the partygoers. Maybe he could make more of an effort, next time? That wouldn’t really be progress either, perhaps, but he’d ignored X with the thought he wasn’t important...

He needed to explore more of his surroundings, of the variables that dictated this day. He had a fairly good idea of MeCloud. Cobs likely started at his desk, since he had already given Toilet and X their instructions before the reset point. He would stay there until Suitcase and Knife arrived, which was only possible to prevent with force. Then, he would have them hauled to the ship to fight to the death. 

First, they’d be locked up in the room Apple and Bow would find them in. Then, they would be unleashed in the arena, acting as distractions while MeLife was unplugged.

3GS and Mecintosh likely stayed in their room the whole time. Unless… Well, it was possible Cobs sent a request to 3GS regularly, and MePad just hadn’t noticed? How long would it take 3GS to get to the ground, if he put his mind to it?

Even still, Mecintosh probably wouldn’t come with. Which was understandable, he hadn’t lived (what, 30 years? 40?) by trying to escape. 

But, the partygoers. Soap had been there, before the loop started, but left because Trophy irritated her. He had noticed Cabby talking to different people at different times. Test Tube, Fan, and Paintbrush were there at the start, but soon went to investigate the screaming. 

Were they doing that this time? Two people in that group of four believed him when he said their secret phrases.

He changed course slightly, heading instead towards Test Tube’s lab.

Did anyone else leave the party, if they weren’t hunkering in fear of X as they did the very first time around? Where were the other Season 3 contestants?

… Where had Season 3 even taken place? When MePhone froze time for the excluded parties, he likely wouldn’t have gone to the effort to move everyone out of the way. (Especially since, if he had, wouldn’t he have noticed Taco, who had MePad hostage at the time? He probably would’ve done something about that.)

So… Somewhere else? Was that somewhere else close enough to escape to? Did Cobs know it existed? 

If he imprisoned Trophy, or excluded him, they might be able to-

MePad’s train of thought derailed as something grabbed his side. He blinked a couple times and realized that they had arrived at the entrance of Test Tube’s “secret” lab.

He looked to X, or at least in the direction his hand indicated he was in. “How did you know?” He pulled up his keyboard, in case X was feeling up to a response. 

“Lots of loud thinkers down there.”

This ended up being a relatively good summary of what was to come.

Getting MePhoneX introduced to Fan, Test Tube, Paintbrush, and Lightbulb was a mess. There were questions about why he’d barged in, questions about if he was really in a time loop (via Test Tube, who conceded that knowing that Lightbulb even had a phrase was fairly unlikely), comments about the decreasing quality of Meeple products that were true but rude considering that X was his friend.

Eventually, Lightbulb got excited enough about the concept of cheering someone up to take a bunch of random-looking supplies from all around Test Tube's lab and bring them outside. 

It was awkward, and MePad had done his best, but facilitating a smooth friendly introduction was not one of his stronger areas. Fan was awkward, from realizing he’d made a lot of very accurate predictions about X’s build quality and lack of features. Test Tube, of course, wasn’t super enthused to be asked to play nice.

Paintbrush.

And, MePhoneX, who had met very few people and spoken to maybe three, was not super adept at socializing. He stood very still and, to his credit, at least answered questions when they were asked of him.

Until Baxter showed up. Was it surprising, that he was more comfortable with an animal around? People, in general, liked animals. But, this was X’s very first and he seemed even more thrilled for the novelty. 

Once the ball was rolling, MePad had stepped back and started to watch. He had ended up propping himself against a tree trunk as the rest of them did their thing. 

Currently Lightbulb, Paintbrush, Fan, and MePhoneX were doing some sort of… Jump rope-adjacent activity with an absurdly long, bright orange extension cord. They were taking turns with two holding the cord, while the other two hopped about in the middle. He was intrigued, but not enough to get up. 

(And, he’d lost track of Test Tube.)

X hadn’t taken a turn in the middle yet, seemingly happy to hold Baxter in one hand and the cord in the other. It was very cute, but…

Something Fan said earlier was catching in his mind. Or, maybe it was the way he had said it?

“-the priorities are all wrong, he’s let the endless chase of the next great thing distract him from focusing on product features that are actually good! 4 and 4S are, like, people but a little more futuristic. But clearly, pumping out a new one all the time is unsustainable! With the way Steve Cobs has been stripping away features-”

Rushed development. Misplaced priorities. These things were true, and they were obvious. MePad had been thinking of himself through the lens of stripped features since the moment he’d “woken up.” He’d blinked open his eyes and met MePhone4, and ever since then it had been obvious that they were built differently.

No mouth. No arms. No emotions. That had been his initial analysis of himself. 

But, even when he was muted, he could communicate. Even if he couldn’t carry something and walk, did that matter? He’d thought that, because of how vibrant 4 was, how open- 

Taco had looked appalled earlier, when he suggested he hadn’t been thinking of himself as a person. Fan was closer to sharing MePad’s own thought process. Personally, he thought he was objective as he focused on considering the circumstances that lead to the creation of someone who wouldn’t have the will to be rebellious. 

(MePad hadn’t known Cobs’ ire towards his previous creation, when he was first aware. He barely knew the man existed back then. It made sense, though. Knowing what Cobs thought MePhone’s flaws were, it was so easy to draw a straight line to MePad and his own inbuilt shortcomings.)

He was thinking about the last loop. How could he not? It should have been easy to go back to what he was supposed to be. It should have been like riding a bicycle or whatever similar metaphor people used to mean “once you knew how to do something, you know it for life.” It was supposed to be ingrained. 

Cobs expected him to become his loyal assistant, quiet and unobtrusive unless something was needed from him. To not argue, to go fetch people, to feel nothing as he watched X die.

(MePhoneX was over there, he could watch him jump rope. He could watch him cradle a surprisingly patient animal. Maybe he was distracted enough that MePad could really think about-)

It wasn’t easy. It was grating. It was stressful. 

But, what was striking him more was that MePad’s own expectations for himself were so close to what Cobs had made him for. Despite the fact he hated the man, he’d let himself care about the purpose Steve Cobs had made him for? Let himself be exhausted, trying to be that person?

(The way X had fallen, unable to hold himself up. The way he’d writhed in agony, limbs jerking out of his control. He had that built in. From the moment X first powered on, Cobs had been ready to fry him. He wasn’t just someone who made creations, hoping for the best and then growing bored of them. He made X knowing he would die. He kept sending the others after 4, knowing they would die!)

Taco was appalled he didn’t think of himself as a person. Cobs wouldn’t be. 

It made the answer clearer, didn’t it? He knew whose opinion he valued more. 

He watched as Fan failed to clear the “rope.” His leg got tangled in it, but Paintbrush and X didn’t realize fast enough to stop the arc. Fan was flung high into the air, and MePad lost track of him for a moment.

When his eyes caught him again, Fan had opened himself all the way up and was slowly drifting down. Lightbulb was laughing in delight. Even Paintbrush was smiling, rolling their eyes as they shouted something up to him.

MePad sagged against the tree. X was in good hands. Just for today, he was surrounded by friendship and joy. He let his eyes slip closed.

He hadn’t realized how much they ached until he wasn’t forcing them open. It was bright out, he could still see the light beyond his eyelids.

He could hear the far-off sounds of his loved ones. They were just quiet enough that he had to focus to tell what they were saying. Everyone sounded so happy.

When was the last time he rested? People deserved rest, didn't they?

He’d just sit here. They’d let him know if they needed him.

He became aware of voices again. (Had he been hearing them this whole time? He couldn’t be sure parts of his dream hadn’t been caused by outside sounds. But, as awareness of his surroundings became sharper, he couldn’t recall if he’d dreamt at all.)

MePad was aware of his body again. Still warm, even cradled by the tree’s shadow. His legs, not exactly “asleep,” a condition caused by poor circulation. There was a stillness that felt wrong to break. He was comfortable.

His back was still against the tree’s bark. It was rough, sure, but he didn’t move against it and so it just felt solid, if oddly textured. It could not scratch him without friction, and he wasn’t causing any.

Again. The voices.

“Oh, like you’re so put together. At least I don’t take him for granted like you seem to've. What, he’s not allowed to leave your employ? What a healthy relationship that must be.” A feminine voice, one he recognized. Her accent was distinct, among everyone he knew. Miss Taco.

“Uck- Well- You don’t know when to leave well enough alone.” Retorted MePhone, and it was so obviously MePhone. He had always known MePhone’s voice. “I just came to check on my friend. Even if you corrupted him, I still care enough to make sure he’s not dead.”

“Very presumptuous about my intentions, I see. Hmf!” She was performing haughtiness, wasn’t she? To mask her real concern. “I’ll have you know that he’s been going through some sort of existential crisis. Did he inform you?”

Existential crisis was one of the kinder ways she had expressed how much she doubted his sanity, whenever he (foolishly) explained the temporal anomaly again. 

“Oh, sure, you’re trustworthy.” MePhone bit back.

“More than you are. I’ve seen what you do to people. You start us off with silly challenges, oh it’s all in good fun. By the end of it, everyone’s jaded and miserable. Your assistant included.”

“My ex assistant. When he wanted to leave, I let him go.” Someone exhaled an angry puff of air. “You know, he quit to join Team Taco less than a week ago and you’re already trying to get him killed. Maybe he was miserable, but with me he had a chance to live more than a couple months.”

Taco… Didn’t respond. MePad wasn’t sure why. Was she raising an eyebrow? Startled by something he couldn’t see? 

Suddenly, he was overwhelmed by an onslaught of dread. How long had he been asleep? Was the end of the loop nearing?

He, in one fluid motion, stood up and started scanning the sky. The horizon - could he see a ship? No, that wasn’t exactly a tell. The ship started looming over the island before it was time. Instead he focused on the color of the sky, on the texture of grass beneath his feet. The sky wasn’t so blue as it stretched down to meet the edge of his view. It was lighter, tinged in yellow.

But the more obvious thing, the part that should’ve made it obvious instantly… The strange, beautiful little mountains were still there. They stood, defiant of the landscape’s otherwise mostly natural look.

He sighed, relieved. 

… And then he remembered he had an audience and turned, slowly, to peer behind himself. There they were, standing beyond the tree’s shade. Gawking at him. Taco and MePhone4. 

MePhone slipped on an uneasy smile. Taco put on a look of irritation. MePad tried to flatten his expression, to hide any panic that might have just shown outwardly. (Was he successful? Had there been any visible in the first place? He couldn’t answer these questions.)

“I apologize, you two may carry on.” He tried, now, to put levity in his voice.

Taco saw right through it. “How much of that did you hear?”

“MePhone thinks I shall shortly die, being your friend.” It was odd, usually he was so in denial about it. What changed, when Taco was added to the mix?

“Oh, uh. Heh.” MePhone shifted his weight, one hand coming up to rub the back of his head. “I just meant- With you talking to Cobs and MePhoneX and all.” 

Ah. He could understand that. “You do not need to worry about X, but as for Steve Cobs…” He glanced at Taco. He’d already told her about the time loop. Had he mentioned it in his statements over the intercom?

… He couldn’t remember. (He must have mentioned X then, right? How else would MePhone know his name?)

“Well, I’m not exactly setting up introductory tea parties.” Taco rolled her eyes. “I have no idea when he managed to make friends with the new model of killer phone, except, that’s right. Our little conversation earlier.”

She was glaring at him and he shivered. He knew leaving that conversation was unwise, but… “I apologise for-”

“Ah-ah. I think we should bring your protector over here into the loop, shouldn’t we?” Her lips tilted up in a smirk. “It’s only fair.”

MePad sighed, “I do not think I can stop you.”

“That’s right, you can’t.” She turned to 4, looking like the cat who ate the canary. “MePad shared something very interesting with me today. Or, rather, two little tidbits that seem to inform each other.”

Wait, two? Was she not just going to-

MePhone stiffened defensively, eyeing Taco as she spoke.

“Well. To start, your assistant said to me he was starting to think he might be a person. Now, if you ask me, that particular phrasing,” Taco’s smile widened in time with MePhone’s eyes, which were now rapidly glancing between MePad and Taco. “I’d say it implies he was, previously, thoroughly convinced he wasn’t one.”

MePhone looked… Devastated. “MePad, she’s- joking, right?”

Suddenly, MePad was very interested in looking at the tree he’d been laying under. . . Was there a kite up there? No, wait, he was just doing this to avoid his eyes, come up with a response. “I am afraid that part is true, up until recently I had been thinking of myself as a technologically advanced tool-”

Someone was touching him. It took everything in him not to flinch, but he was unable to keep himself from looking down at MePhone. MePhone and his big, sad eyes. Damn it. “You’re a person, MePad.”

“I know that, now.” 

He gripped him harder. “Why didn’t you before?” 

“My thoughts on the matter are complicated-” MePhone started shaking him. “Sir, please.”

“No, go on, he deserves a little shaking.” Taco said, ever so helpfully.

“I cannot fully articulate my thoughts on this, as again, I have only just today started thinking about this. I have been very busy with the time loop-” MePhone was shaking him harder now, very effectively cutting him off.

“TODAY?” He paused, for a moment. Then he resumed shaking. “TIME LOOP?”

“Oh, yes, that was the other thing MePad shared. He is convinced he is currently experiencing a time loop because, somehow, I looked away from him for an hour and he lost his mind.” She sounded so smug. Of course, to MePad she was just a yellow and green blur right now. 

MePad tried to respond, but all he managed to get out were vowels. Finally, that seemed to bring MePhone4 to his senses enough to stop that.

“Th-” MePad wobbled a little, as MePhone let go of his sides. “ Time loop. Yes. At least a couple weeks. Miss Taco never believes me.” 

She scoffed audibly. She probably did something visual, too, but he was still recovering.

MePhone started to say something, then paused. The silence stretched, expectantly. He was reminded of Taco’s own pause, the one that had made him worried she was gone.

“Actually, this makes sense.” He said, voice flat.

“Does it?” Taco sounded very skeptical. 

“No, no. MePad, in this time loop, were you stuck wandering around while nobody else moved or-”

MePad sighed, “No, sir, you did not freeze everyone else except me. I was turned off during Season 3. I am fairly certain you paused it while I was being abducted.” 

“While you were what?” The view beyond MePad’s eyelids darkened, as though a shadow had fallen over his face.

The world wasn’t spinning anymore. MePad opened his eyes and, sure enough, there was MePhone. “... I did not simply defect, sir, Taco abducted me.”

MePhone turned a glare on Taco, “You can’t do that, he’s company property!”

Taco threw her arms up, “And we wonder where he got that idea! Abducted or not, I’m the best thing that ever happened to MePad.” 

“She needed me like you did, sir. It was really no trouble.”

Taco slid her smirk back on, gesturing a hand towards MePad as if to say "see?”

“Don’t tell me another kidnapping caused you to befriend the new guy.” MePhone muttered down at him.

“No, that was the time loop. I ignored him for the first… Week? Two weeks? It is difficult to keep track of time, in this particular situation. Eventually, I realized he was more than an empty shell-”

Taco held her hands up and interrupted him, “Stop, I think we may have glossed over- What do you mean by freeze?”

“MePhone4 froze every active participant from Season 2 in time so that he could make Season 3. I was included in that, so I only know a couple of things from Miss Cabby and Miss Test Tube. But, again, I have been more focused on the time loop-”

She balled her hands into fists, and he took the hint.

“You can do that?”

MePhone shrugged, not meeting her eyes. “Guess I can.”

“You can freeze people in time? And- and you sent Suitcase and Knife to confront Cobs? I knew you were selfish, but.” She scowled, clearly searching for an insult strong enough.

MePhone shook his head. “Hey, if that kind of stuff worked on him, we’d be in a whole other boat! He’s- different.”

She rolled her eyes. “You can do whatever you’d like to us, but, you know. Just because he’s your father-”

He stomped, dangerously close to where MePad lay. “No, Taco, he’s different. I don’t have- It just doesn’t work like that!”

“Because you’re scared of him!” She laughed, bitter and hollow. “You’re scared of him, so you make us scared of you. Hah! If he wasn’t such a maniac, I’d say, let him take you.” 

MePad sat up, inadvertently putting both of his companions behind him. Maybe it was for the better, to not be looking at them as he said, “I am sorry, but MePhone is right. Cobs really is different. Or, rather, you are.”

“You can’t be taking his side on this one. That man may have power, but he’s just as mortal-”

"He is." MePad agreed. She didn’t know. He’d told her, and he’d told her, but she still didn’t know. Couldn't know. “I know better than anyone, Steve Cobs can die. He is susceptible to gravity and to fire just like the rest of us. However, he cannot be revived like you can. There is a fundamental difference between MePhone’s power over you and over him.”

“Is- Wait, is that why you wanted contestants? You lured us onto your despicable little show and- and- changed us?” She laughed again, but this time she didn’t stop, even as Mephone protested. 

“No, no, that’s- I didn’t mean to!”

“I had a life! I had- a future!”

She didn’t know. MePad stood up. He couldn’t look at her again, as she learned the truth. Not when she was so wound up. How unmoored, had he always felt? And yet he insisted on doing this to his friends, again and again. Cruelty. “You had no future, Taco. Not before Inanimate Insanity.”

Someone shoved him and he fell flat on his face. He laid there for a moment, waiting to see if anything else would happen. But it didn’t. He sat up again, stood up again. This time, he forced himself to turn around.

MePhone was… Holding Taco’s arm? She wrenched it from his grasp, rubbing her wrist as though it was sore. She looked so angry. MePhone just looked… Scared.

“I am sorry, I usually explain it better. I am just… So tired of explaining it. MePhone is- has? He contains alien power, and when he wiped his memory, he forgot. To him, he wished for contestants and they appeared.” Maybe that was a storybook way to describe it, but that’s how he imagined it himself. Someone brand new, all alone, wishing he had companionship. “He created you. He did not mean to, but he did. He has power over you because his power made you.”

MePhone looked sheepish. Taco looked devastated.

“But, you believe me to be greater than my source, yes? You are artificial, but-” She was tearing up. He squeezed his eyes shut. “I am so sorry. Usually, I tell you more gently. There are only so many ways to say that MePhone created you. There are only so many ways to live through a day before you run out of good ones.”

“You’re not lying, are you?” MePhone asked. “You’re really, actually in a time loop. I didn’t tell you about that, but you just know.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, tighter. “Yes, I am in a time loop. You are easier to convince than Miss Taco, she has never believed me, but I tire of it even still. I am tired of watching the contestants’ worlds shatter, sir. I wish you would have told them before, so that it would not fall to me. I wish today was not so painful, that if it truly is my last day, it could be one I can enjoy. Dying hurts, trying hurts, letting things play out as they want to is excruciating! I wish Cobs loved X! I wish he loved you, sir, or even me! I wish 3GS and Mecintosh could do something other than rot, I wish I didn’t understand the appeal!” 

Was he crying? His face felt hot. Was simulated liquid flowing down his false face? How much crying was he capable of? He used to think none at all!

“We are doomed! I need to admit it, that we are just all doomed! But I cannot let myself give up, I lied to myself recently that if I failed someone else would take my place, but no one will! If I do not act, people will die. If I do, they will anyway, just- gentler. Knife and Suitcase have to fight to the death today! Taco has to mourn! Toilet has to hurt people! I have to lead! I was not built to! I was built to die, but I have to keep living, but-”

Something was touching him. MePad stiffened, he froze. Something warm, a soft hand touching his casing.

Another, wiping across his screen. As though to wipe away his tears.

He fell to his knees and four arms wrapped around him, and he felt- (Embarrassed, that he was trembling? Glad, that he had people that cared about him? Was this the first time he’d cried with an audience? It happened so rarely, he was so careful to have his emotions alone.)

He was too big to be engulfed in someone’s arms, only the ocean or the soil had managed. But he was held. Between the two of them, he was held.

MePad did calm down, eventually. They kept holding him. He tried to apologize for losing his composure, but MePhone said it was alright. Taco made a joke about how she would’ve acted like that every day, if she was in his position.

(He wasn’t sure if she had meant the time loop or just his overall state of being.)

They’d lapsed back into silence until-

Until MePad really noticed the sky again. And he, his tone a careful dance between serenity and mourning, informed them that their time was almost up. That shortly, MeLife would be unplugged and everything would disappear. 

“So, I’ll be… Dead?” She had asked, fingers gently drumming against his back.

Dead, yes, but not gone. “If it is any consolation, you have managed to call MePhone and bother him during his fight to the death before.”

Taco had found reassurance in this, and she was mid-quip when-

Things did not disappear uniformly. Maybe he had noticed that before, but he was noticing it again now. 

The changing grass was like a wave crashing towards the shore, but the mountains popped out of existence like bubbles colliding against the hand that tried to catch them. 

Taco, too, was like a soap bubble. She was there one moment and gone the next. MePhone trembled against him and MePad understood.

“They’re all…”

“Gone, yes. But they are also within you.” Except Bot, perhaps. He still had not found answers for Test Tube about what happened to Bot. “If we live long enough, they will call you.” 

“Okay.” It was MePhone’s turn, now. To be completely overwhelmed. But, they couldn’t get any closer than they were already. How could he reassure him? “... If?”

Clarification it was. “Right now, Cobs is falling from the sky. Or, perhaps, he has already crashed to the ground. That is why MeLife was unplugged, Miss Suitcase and Mister Knife were hoping-”

“To kill him?” His voice cracked.

“Yes. It does not work.” 

He swallowed audibly. 

This was not a good distraction. MePad tried again.

“You will like MePhoneX. Once we are out of the time loops. Or, perhaps, next loop if I introduce you.” It was a different subject, but not one that was very far from their current situation. MePad couldn’t think of anything better. “Today he played jump rope with the contestants.”

“... Yeah?” He sounded more baffled than upset. So this was a good subject change.

“Yes. X cannot speak aloud, so you will have to be patient with him. He likes honeycomb patterns and moths. Today he met Baxter, his first ‘real’ animal.” Why did it feel like he was talking about someone who was already dead? “I want him to be safe and happy.”

“Okay.” MePhone's arm only reached halfway across his back, if that. MePad wondered why Cobs thought to make him so very big. Just because he could? “What about me?”

He almost responded by asking what about him, but processed what the question meant in time. Luckily. That retort probably would've been the worst response to what he was actually asking. What MePad did say was, “I want you to be safe and happy, too, sir.”

“Don't you hate me? After- I've been a real jerk.” He still didn't pull away. 

“It takes one to make one.” He quipped back, automatically. Oops. “That to say, I would have preferred if you were kinder, yes. I want the contestants to be safe and happy in their own right, and I was upset that you-” He sighed, “You did not have that as a top priority. But, the show is over and, beneath it all, I do care about you. Even when you make me angry.”

You could have convinced MePad quite easily that the quiet, shuddering “oh” had been his own imagination. 

“I care deeply about you, about the contestants.” He shouldn't tell him this. “If time had not looped, I would have died for you.”

“I don't want you to do that.” 

“I know.” Another sigh. When had he started doing that so frequently? “I have mixed emotions about this time loop. There are a lot of elements which bring nothing but suffering. But, in some ways, I am glad it happened. In a way, it has granted me… More time. To say goodbye properly.” 

MePhone’s other hand drifted down to tangle with the grass. The real grass. “Don't, then. Just- just don't say goodbye. So that I can keep you.”

So childish. “If only it were that simple.”

“Why can't it be?” MePhone pushed away and for the first time since they’d sat down together (the three of them) could MePad see his face. His eyes were red-rimmed, and MePad wondered if his own matched. 

“Things do not work out simply because we want them to.” The sky was so pretty at this time of day. At least this, whatever this was, happened when the conditions were lovely. Things could be better, but they could also be much, much worse. 

“But-”

“This loop will soon end and I will have to explain it all again, sir. If this situation was at all beholden to what I wanted…” He would have given up by now. He wanted so badly to give up, it would be so easy if only circumstances would let him. “We cannot let X die again today.”

“What?”

“Cobs has a kill switch for him, on his phone. Or- yes on his phone.” It felt odd to refer to a smartphone, the object, when he spent so much of his life with smartphones who were people. He couldn’t even differentiate by brand, considering… You know. “Normally, I would try and end this loop soon. However, this is X’s day. But, I maintain that we cannot let him be the one that dies.” 

When he glanced back down at MePhone, he looked completely baffled. MePad didn’t blame him. It was a bit of a nonsequitor. 

“If everything worked out the way I wished, he would not suffer another painful death.” He said, to try and clarify.

“So, uh. End the loop. How do you… Do that?” 

“Someone dies. The contestants do not cause it, I presume this means they can be saved. However-” 

“Wait, wait, so.” MePhone held up his hands, “Somebody dies? I know you said the new guy dies in the previous one, and that you would’ve died for me. But it always ends in a death?”

“There were a few times where I did not witness a death, but the circumstances suggested that one did indeed occur.” When he and MePhone4 were hiding in the cave, he had been confused when things had looped. Then, the very next time, things played out similarly and Toilet was murdered. “At first I thought I could just sleep and it would end, but having been woken up from naps several times-”

“Sorry about that, by the way.” He said with a tight smile that didn’t meet his eyes.

“Oh. Thank you.” He hadn’t been expecting an apology. 

He shook his head, expression turning serious again. “But if it’s death, why don’t we just… Not let anybody die? Like, maybe it’ll suck if something happens and you have to go back a couple months-” 

“I have never gotten us past tonight. In fact, I have never gotten us past sunset and into dusk.”

MePhone glanced behind him, probably trying to get a look at the sky and how soon dusk was. But, he froze, expression warping with fear. 

The reason soon became obvious. “There you are.” The voice came from behind him.

MePhone started trembling again. MePad tensed, half expecting Cobs to take this opportunity to just kill him. Instead of literally stabbing him in the back, he walked around them, coming to stand in front of them. X was there. 

(He felt himself relax, just a little bit. X was here. Thank goodness X was here.)

Cobs held out a hand. “Come on, let’s go home.” He did not sound confident, or smug. Just… Tired.

MePhone4 turned, staring for a long, long moment at Cobs.

He took it.

Cobs helped him to his feet then readjusted his hold, grabbing MePhone’s wrist instead. MePad and X just- fell into line behind them, familiar shadows. Just like last time.

… There were no contestants to interrupt them. Wasn’t that a terrible thought? That they were all dead, so they couldn’t “mess things up.”

MePad didn’t know where they were going. He couldn’t see MePhone’s expression as he was tugged along. He and X were dutifully following without any physical tether. Though, noticing this, he let his own footsteps slow. To be a little further away. (Cowardly.)

This didn’t feel real. Was this how it always went? He had been assuming that Cobs got violent as soon as he saw MePhone. Did he usually surrender like this? How did they get to the violence that happened later?

(MePad supposed Cobs only tried to stab him when he pulled out the bomb. He had beaten him or drowned when MePad was getting in the way, specifically when he was openly distracting MePhoneX. But, when he broke in, Cobs just deactivated him and threw him aside. Did he kill him on the island, knowing others might find him and turn him back on? The closet door was locked. Cobs must know that he might wake up in there, but without teleportation, he’d be stuck.)

He was expecting Cobs to have already pulled out the knife, to have turned violently on them. He was expecting to already have stood in front of someone and ended up dead.

(Cobs had that much vitriol for Toilet, when he “messed up.” Enough to kill him when he found him. He found MePad and did not care. X survived the fall by coincidence and he did not care. MePhone4 was the only one that mattered. It was so strange.)

He looked to X. He thought, as loud as he could Did you have fun today? He didn’t know why that was what he asked except… He cared. To Cobs, it didn’t matter what X did as long as he met expectations. But, MePad cared. Did you enjoy meeting my friends? Holding Baxter?

He watched for a response, an indication that X was listening to him. Subtly, he would not have seen if he was not looking for it, X nodded with one of his hands.

The relief was somewhat stifled by what else he noticed, watching like this. Now that he wasn’t so close to him, he could see it.

MePhoneX was limping. It was not super obvious, he was not dragging a limp, unmovable limb. But, X was definitely favoring one leg over the other. 

… Weren’t his arms usually the same length? One hung lower than the other, swinging with the movement of his body. 

It was the same side as his bad leg. He hadn’t died from his fall this time, but he must have still gotten hurt. 

X glanced back at him. MePad shot him a worried look. 

Their unfortunate leader stopped walking. Cobs turned to them, finally dropping MePhone4’s arm. “X, retrieve us a transport.”

He stood, stock still. MePad didn’t breathe.

Cobs rolled his eyes, “Right, the other X is here. Whatever. And you can’t exactly summon us anything.” He said, gesturing dismissively at MePhone4. 

He turned away from all of them. “Useless.” 

If MePad had shoulders, he would be hunching them now. As it was, his legs were painfully stiff, locked in place to hold him up. It was all he could do not to run. 

Cobs pulled out his MePhone. His regular phone, his object phone. He dialed someone, ignoring them to make a call.

MePad’s vision blurred and he wasn’t sure if it was tears, again, or if his eyes were just refusing to focus. He felt cold. 

He heard Steve Cobs’ side of the conversation with… Someone. A secretary? A board member? He heard it, but only processed language when Cobs started yelling. “What do you mean, they're all dead? They can't all be dead! The Phenomse are a no-show, somebody needs to get me off this dinky, backwater island!”

(MePhone took a couple, nervous steps backward. Not towards MePad, but away from Cobs.)

MePad, meanwhile, felt… Angry. 

It wasn't that big of a deal. Compared to everything else this man had done, insulting an island he was stranded on was not that big of a deal. 

The way the sun set against the water, vibrant and stunning every time. The way the grass felt under his feet, comforting in its familiarity. Even the sand he hated to stand on sparkled in the light. It was still worth something.

And, of course, before today… This island had been so full of life. 

If Cobs was kinder, if he hadn't necessitated the complete destruction of everything MePhone had ever created, there would still be a hotel he could stay in. He was in an empty field and it was his own fault.  

Then again, if he was a nicer person, none of MePad's friends would exist. If he hadn't stolen eggs from the Shimmers, they'd be only concepts in MePhone's head. 

If he was reasonable, he wouldn't be making his creations so fragile. There would be more than 5 survivors after decades of creating people. A huge, happy family. 

What was MePad doing? Following along because this man hadn't thought to kill them yet?

He should kill Cobs first. He should teleport them into the air again, as high as they could go, and kill him. He should teleport them into the water together, hold him down so he had no choice but to drown. Maybe MePad would electrocute him, like a toaster in a bath. How would he die first, if MePad tried it? A terrible part of him wanted so badly to know.

X was looking at him. At some point, as MePhone4 had crept further backwards, X had used the lack of attention to stare at MePad. That was the barrier that stilled MePad from action. (Aside from the disgust about who he was becoming. And, more pragmatically, the fact he hadn't decided on his method yet. There was only so much at his disposal.)

MePhoneX, who yes was definitely listening, shook a hand no. MePad held in another sigh. He could at least wait until Cobs did something first, he supposed. Count this as information gathering. Keep himself from murder for a few more minutes.

MePhone knelt to the ground, hands sweeping through the grass as though searching. What for?

X turned his attention towards MePhone. Maybe he was curious, too? A painful looking jolt jerked his body and he quickly looked away again. 

He only had a moment longer to wonder before a frightening grin lit up his face and MePhone4 stood up, hand wrapped around a large, dirt-crusted rock. MePad’s eyes widened as he pulled his arm back and threw!  

The sound of a rock hitting a phone at high speed was, thankfully, somewhat covered up by the much more pleasant sound of Cobs yelling out in pain as his object-phone did the natural thing when encountering a high speed projectile and hit the side of his face. 

“Sir?!” He found himself squeaking out in disbelief. Was- did he usually get killed by Cobs because he pelted him with rocks?! He had to assume this was normal, MePad hadn’t changed that much!

Cobs clutched his face, and from this angle MePad couldn’t see his expression. Instead, his eyes were locked onto the discarded, broken device on the ground. It was gruesome to look at, and he wondered if he had looked like that when X had beaten him to death. 

Then, the man raised a shaking finger and pointed at MePhone. Maybe he muttered some instruction too quiet for MePad to hear, or maybe the gesture was enough. X flew forward, like a kite dragged forward by a string, only swaying where the air resisted. 

Maybe he should have compared him to a claw machine. Unlike a kite, X had a mission. He grabbed MePhone and pulled him back with him, presenting him (held up with his arms pinned to his sides) to his father. 

“Did that make you feel better?” Cobs sneered as he stood. His non-dominant hand stayed glued to his cheek, hiding his wound from sight. “Costing me money? Making me angry?” 

“Hey, it’s what I’m good at.” He smirked back, even as he shook.

MePad was petrified. It always happened. He couldn’t control what the contestants did, so they would always be unplugged. He couldn’t control what MePhone did, so he’d always catch Cobs’ ire.

“It’s all you’re good for! I’ve been very patient, 4. Indulgent. I let you have your little show, and your little assistant. I was even going to give you a second chance.” 

He finally dropped his hand and MePad, instead of relishing in the fact he was hurt, in the ability to see his pain, started looking around for how he could end it faster.

Drowning took time! Falling took time! Where was the nearest body of water?! He should’ve started earlier, not let it get this far, not-

The horrible sound of metal against metal (no, of metal shearing metal) broke him from his decision paralysis and drew his eye in one. The view wasn’t exactly what he expected.

Instead of MePhone4 with a slice taken out of him, or run through, or cut in half-

That was X’s arm on the ground.

He shook himself out of his useless stupor and teleported over to them, just in time to get swung at by Cobs himself. 4 grabbed X’s remaining hand and was dragging him around.

“YOU DIDN’T MENTION THE SWORD!” MePhone screamed at him, pulling X out of the way of another slash. 

“My apologies! I will die and-”

“Oh, you wanna go first?” Cobs bit out, refocusing on MePad. “That can be arranged.” 

MePhone tackled Cobs, causing his sword to fly out of his hand. “Nobody’s dying today!”

He spent a split second assessing X, another watching as Cobs managed to punch up at MePhone and shatter his screen. This was a nightmare, all of this was a nightmare. 

He knew who needed help first, so he teleported himself and MePhone-

Cobs was too close to MePhone for him to grab just one of them, so he teleported again. And again. And again. As long as they were mid-teleport, nobody could move. He chained them, one after another. He wasn’t sure if they became physical again before they disappeared, barely made sure they would land on the ground if they did. 

He wasn’t counting. He would’ve lost track, if he was. Over and over and over and over, just a foot or two forward or back, just enough to not collide with themselves. 

He couldn’t think. He couldn’t figure out what to do, other than this. This was working, he could keep doing it. It was exhausting, but he could keep doing it. So he did.

He teleported and he teleported and all he could see was pink and all that made up his body was sparkles, indistinct and loose. The world around him might as well be made up of himself and the ones he was carrying with him and a featureless void. 

And then he collided with something. Not really, not fully, someone- something interrupted. Something stuck a hand where he was about to be and he had to abort the teleport and-

Before he could get ahold of the three of them to start again, color still tinting his vision, legs wobbling as they were forced to hold him up again-

X pulled MePhone off of Cobs and the relief flooded through him, only to be immediately evaporated as Cobs swung his sword again and-

He was hyperventilating. He shouldn’t be. He didn’t need to breathe. 

MePhoneX had been run through. The knife’s hilt stuck out of his empty arm socket like it was supposed to be there. 

MePad wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. Instead, he lunged. It wasn’t clarity, this moment, but it was enough time to think. It was enough time to know this wasn’t his best plan. MePad didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything but suffering, of knowing he’d just let X-

MePhone4 wasn’t touching Cobs anymore. He could teleport without him. He could reach out and encompass Cobs and himself and catch them in the loop again, make him dizzy, make him dissolve. If it was strenuous for MePad, it would be the same for Cobs.

And so, he did. He grabbed him and MePad teleported and he teleported and he was only anger and strain and tired and he hoped Cobs felt it, he hoped he was scared, he hoped this was a novel and terrible experience. 

Time would loop and it would be the same again, but he’d find him and he’d do this. He couldn’t kill him, he couldn’t control him, but he could do this. Every day, he could do this. 

MePad wasn’t sure what he believed about the afterlife. He knew you couldn’t go to hell before you died. But he was going to try, just for Cobs, to hold him here. Just energy, just light, featureless and powerless and suffering.

Time was impossible to measure. 

It couldn't have been that long. Soon, time would reset. When Toilet died, the loop had restarted instantly. It must have only been a couple seconds, but he was exhausted. 

Every time, he was sure he wouldn't be able to manage it again. And yet he did. He had been. But, he was slowing down. Flickers of the world were creeping in. 

If he couldn't do this for a few seconds, how was he ever going to do it forever? 

This time, when he rematerialized, something wrapped around his ankle. (He needed to keep going. Just a few more seconds, the loop would restart. He’d have a break until he got to HQ.)

A hand. He stared down, for a moment, at it wrapped around his ankle. It wasn’t flesh, just two metal curves that came together to make a circle.

An instant later, MePad’s legs failed him and he fell. The world spun above him. How had he forgotten about X’s other body? He had spent all day with it. He’d learned about X’s secret because of it.

Someone shouted his name. There was a loud BWOM! And a shower of dirt fell, some pieces gently plinking against his glass. 

There was a ruckus beside him, Steve Cobs’ terrible voice yelling. Others spoke back, sometimes fearful, sometimes bravely, often both. 

Why was it so hot out here? The sun was nearly set, by now. He could tell by looking at the sky. It swirled, spinning, like he was finally aware of their planet flying through the solar system. Had someone heated the grass? Was he laying in a fire pit?

He blinked, distantly noticing how much effort it took to open his eyes again. It was discomforting, the way everything spun. It would probably be easier if his eyes were closed. This was nauseating, but it was also beautiful. Making the colors streak. 

There was a flash of light and some sort of crash or shatter or boom, something loud and painful. 

And, a feeling. He could barely identify it, what had changed. Something that had been gripping him let go. Something he’d been putting up with so long he’d stopped noticing. It felt like when he couldn’t teleport anymore, but better. This was something good.

MePhone4 appeared above him. Why did he look so scared? So mad? He didn’t usually cry. He didn’t like to show worry… 

His lips were moving. He was saying something. 

He was holding down MePad’s power button. 

That sounded nice. To be off until this loop ended. It sounded nice to rest.

A tear fell on his face.

Chapter Text

MePhone thought he'd been confused before. Today had been a disaster, and then MePad had started broadcasting nonsense about safety to the whole hotel. (They weren't safe! How could they be safe?!)

And then the thing with Taco, and that stupid dizzy teleporting thing, and the contestants weren't his anymore and-

Cobs had his light. Held triumphantly as he ran, the man was of course grinning. (MePad said time would loop, right? That this wouldn't- Everything would be okay, this couldn't be real.)

No, the thing that didn't make sense was that Suitcase was smiling, too. He was looking right at her, and she was smiling.

His brain lagged as he tried to process Mister Cobs exploding.

Popcorn was falling from the sky. The smell of it was nauseating, though the kernels landed big and fluffy, he was overwhelmed by the burnt-ness.

He was gone.

(MePad had just told him time would loop if someone died. Somebody was currently a smoldering husk!)

The others started to make noise, first hopeful, then, cheery, and-

It probably happened all at once, but MePhone processed it chronologically. His contestants started gasping in pain, or fear, or something, and he only had a moment to worry about it until it happened to him too and he collapsed to his knees. He'd caught himself with a wrist, but he wouldn't notice that for a while.

A wave of memories washed over him, both as though he was experiencing them right now and as though it was all days and days ago and he was just thinking back.

(MePad died.
MePad claimed he'd died.
MePad confessed that he died, and MePhone tried to instead.
MePad was gone.
MePad was nowhere to be found.
MePad talked to the contestants with him.
MePad and Toilet explored the hotel with him.
MePad disappeared.
MePad announced he was going to commit an act of terrorism.
When they were at their lowest, MePad decided to die.
Why had MePad abandoned him?
Where had MePad gone?
MePad didn't understand he loved him, that he was ready to love him no matter what.
Where was he? He knew they didn't work together anymore, but where was he?
MePad collapsed.
MePad fell from the tree.
MePad wanted to negotiate, but Cobs killed MePhoneX in front of them both.

It was all him. Of course it was, he was the only thing that changed.

Days where MePad abandoned him stacked and layered, merging and indistinct aside from where MePad's influence had warped his thoughts.)

It was impossible to process. Hollow betrayal at being abandoned danced with the fear and anguish of losing everything. Now that he knew what it meant to end a loop, he understood things he hadn't before.

It was too much emotion to fit in his body. (He'd thrown himself off a cliff?! How many times had he done that when MePhone hadn't been specifically looking at him?!? He was too casual about his own death! How had he ever let him think so lowly of himself!)

He stood up, shaking away his dizziness and ignoring everyone else. He was going to kill MePad.

Then, he noticed the smoke and realized he might not get to.

His legs helped him closer without MePhone having to actually ask, it was like he went from standing in one place to instantly kneeling by MePad's side. (Like the reverse of finding Toilet lodged in the ground, except if this was the mirror of that, MePad shouldn't still be the one to die!)

MePad's eyes didn't focus. His soundwave mouth wobbled, but he didn't seem to be aware of himself, humming long notes in a random order. He wasn't reacting.

MePhone reached out to touch and he was burning hot and MePhone wanted to hit him with a big rock. He wanted to yell at him until MePad apologized for being so stupid this whole time. He was too smart to be this dumb.

(Mostly, he was scared. The smoke wasn't good, the fact he hadn't reacted at all was really not good, he'd just remembered-)

MePhone held down his power button, tears welling in his eyes. “We'll fix you. You'll cool down and we'll fix you. Please, please, please-”

And then his face disappeared, the tacky Meeple shutdown screen played, and MePhone felt-

“Wow, he was right, I was a nightmare to convince.” Someone said, behind him. MePhone's hands clenched into fists.

Right. The contestants.

He didn't want to look at them.

“You… Saw all that too, right?” Asked Suitcase, hesitantly.

Something brushed past MePhone's shoulder and came to rest on the grass. Something small and bright and-

(That had been part of him, right?)

Everything felt so far away. How could all that, everything MePad went through, end with him dead anyway?

“I didn't see anything, why did everybody freak out?” Said Pickle, “Why'd you kill that guy?”

(MePad wasn't dead yet. MePhone needed to turn him over and take his back off and help him air out but-)

“No, Suitcase, I saw it too!” Balloon. “MePad kept saying weird stuff over the intercom!”

(He couldn't even make himself lean forward. His wrist was cramping, from trying to support so much of his weight. He couldn't convince himself to move.)

“Ah, yeah, the time loop.” Lightbulb, “Guess we're out of the loop. Anybody know the new lingo?”

(How long had MePad been thinking stuff like that? About not mattering. About being unimportant, set dressing, being disposable.)

“Oh God.” Taco’s voice was too close. She was right over his shoulder. “Is he-”

“I don't know.” His voice was hoarse. He still wasn't looking at the light. In the dusk, it was impossible not to see.

“If he's dead…” Marshmallow.

“Golly gracious gravy, we need to get him to my lab!” Test Tube exclaimed, behind his other shoulder. “That's the kind of thing I'd say if I still had my lab. Unfortunately it doesn't exist anymore so-”

He still wasn't looking at the light. And yet. In the dusk, it was impossible not to see. The way it reflected off MePad's screen. It wasn't broken this time, unlike MePhone's.

He wanted to cry. His- MePad was-

(He was just off! He wasn't dead. It felt impossible that he'd survive this. He'd jumped off a cliff. He'd been stabbed! Over and over! He'd seen MePad die! MePad died! Before MePhone, at the hands of Cobs, everything that wasn't supposed to happen! And now MePhone couldn't even cry.)

(After everything, MePhone was still the one left grieving.)

Before he lived, he had dreamt.

MePad didn’t know how standard that was. He’d never asked anyone about their early moments or what had come before. No one had ever asked him, either. But, he remembered it sometimes.

Before he was MePad, he was a presence surrounded by story. It washed over him gently and he was a part of it, but just an observer. There was laughter, but only one voice. Things happened, but not in a way he could understand. There was sorrow, but it was someone else’s.

“Real Life” was stark and structured, with sights and sounds identifiable. He could learn facts and continue knowing them, not let them escape from his grasp. He could interact with and change things however he pleased. There were many others, all with their own wants and needs, laughters and sorrows.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever gotten used to life beyond dreaming. It was simpler, laying and listening as someone else wove a tapestry for you to bundle up and live inside.

MePad had only later realized what it all meant. Things in the waking world were familiar, at first. MePhone, the contestants, the show and its challenges, it all made sense.

Paintbrush would raise their hand, and he knew MePhone would ignore their question. He hadn’t watched Season 1, and yet he knew which contestants were returning. Sure, MePhone had explained some of these things, but for the most part he didn’t need to.

It was only later that MePad realized that his dreams had been the parts of him alive enough to listen, soaking up the stimulus and running with it, taking and processing and trying to compute things that he could have no context for.

It was a slow realization, and another that just made sense. But, it had been a long time after he’d first awoken. There was no reason to mention it.

He was dreaming again now. It was wonderful. And, yet, it couldn’t be the same as it had been. Now, the fuzzy shapes of contestants were more accurate to life as they frolicked and played. He knew what they looked like, what they sounded like. They might still wobble like clouds asked to hold a form, but they couldn’t go back to the shapeless balls of light he’d known them as before.

He was different too. As they argued and gossiped and laughed and cried, he wanted to reach out and touch them. He tried to let it wash over him, to sink back into the dream, but he couldn’t. Not like he had before.

Now, MePad had lived. He’d loved, and hurt, and worried. He didn’t know how to stop.

A presence appeared beside him, something strong and solid and kind. It started to weave a story for him, and he let himself be swept up in its imagining. Maybe he couldn’t dream the same, but for now, he could rest.

It told him things, and he listened. It told him that it was sad, because it would have to go soon.

“Where are you going?” He finally managed to ask.

It didn't speak like anyone he'd met since he awoke, not with words strung together. It showed him the world where they lived, and it glowed with warmth and joy and-

There was something else, something that came and they beckoned. It showed him very, very far away, stars away. But it was hazy and indistinct. It was going somewhere it hadn't ever been.

He wanted to reassure it, but he could tell from the shape of the beckoning others that they weren't objects. They were round and ovular, and he really only knew one group of aliens but… Certainly not well enough to tell it anything concrete.

Words weren't the right medium for communication here, but what else could he do? How could he respond? What was the right thing to say?

“They are just like you, are they not? It will feel nice, to be with your kind.” Presuming they were a social species. Presuming he understood.

And it agreed, as it showed itself (it was a light, small and bright and leaving an afterimage wherever it went) cozied up among cheerful shadows. It was nestled between two others, one very large and one very small.

But, then it peered out through a facsimile of a spaceship window, down at Inanimate Planet.

He didn't really have a body, in here. He existed, but it was… It didn't matter. A response. He needed to form a response.

“I will miss it too, I think.” He said, letting his gaze be lead at this storyteller’s whim. “Once I die-”

The scene disappeared like the lines of an etch-a-sketch as you shook it and he was startled to have its full attention. It was right in front of him, now.

What had he said? Once he died… “I cannot live forever-”

A loud incorrect buzzer played. It made a tiny version of himself, charmingly simplistic. The tiny version tripped on a rock and fell, a little spirit floating out the top. Then, it reversed, blurring with the artifacts of compression, as though a video being scrubbed through. Still a little wobbly, back to just before it happened, and this time MePad jumped over the rock and kept strolling along. The tiny version looked very happy.

That was what he remembered from being awake. He hadn't ever died so pitifully as tripping on a rock, but-

(No, no, life wasn't usually like that. Right?)

“No, I mean, once I am out of the time loop.” That's what it was. He used to live chronologically, but something had broken. “Surely this is not a permanent state of being?”

It… Drooped? Doodle MePad tripped and fell on a rock and his spirit floated out, but this time, a far away star twinkled. Nothing happened. So… Not permanent?

He was getting a bit confused. Maybe it would've been simple if he was awake... “The aliens… Eggs? Made me live today?” To protect themselves? But they'd been so absent.

It swirled around him a few times, tracing a spiraling path up to meet MePad's eye level. (Not that he had them. Was he taller or shorter than usual? How tall was he supposed to be?)

His eyes widened, slower than they should. (Because he didn't have any!) “You?”

It danced away from him, filling the world with fireworks, definitely showing off.

Okay. That was a yes. Fireworks, celebration. Celebration… This was a good thing?

“Your guys want you back.” Guys was absolutely the wrong term. “Your dads? Moms? Parents? Family? But, they were… You can go, nobody asked for the…” The what?

Words were getting harder, he thought. He was usually so good at words, right? Yes, everybody loved his words…

Oh! “Why stay and make the. Time. Happen?”

It showed him another doodle. This one, of himself cracking and falling forward, dead. It surrounded him with others. He recognized them. His joyful Toilet. His rebellious Taco. The frustrating brother one, MePhone. Suitcase, who he was so proud of. YinYang, for some reason. Was he close with YinYang? (He didn't think so…?)

They were all… crying. Over his body.

Then time reversed again and this time, a drawing of Steve Cobs was impaled. Doodle MePad stood with one foot on the corpse, triumphant as a mountain climber who had just reached the peak.

“Don't like him?” MePad didn't like him.

The background - the entire place they were in flashed with color and fear and pain. With a broken shell, with cold pliers, with a violent grin that had become all-too-familiar. He'd seen it so often. He'd hurt MePad so often.

Quickly, the light seemed to shoo this away, instead making a field with a tree. It wasn't so much that he was leaning against it, but that it grew to cradle him. Still, he was… Sad, too. What a way to be born.

“I understand. I…” He diverted his attention, eyes wandering to see how big the world was. A facsimile of Lightbulb played catch with MePhoneX. “I do not like him either. Murder is bad, but…”

The sky cracked, then quickly smoothed itself back over.

You shouldn't kill people. It wasn't nice. “He started it.” He killed MePad first. (Somehow, he felt as though usually it wasn't that easy. Why not, though? X’s dad was so mean!)

It was a ball of light so it couldn't exactly nod, but it still bobbed up and down with such vigor that it got its point across.

That still left a question… “Why me? I do not kill people, right?” Definitely not. Or, not on purpose. Had he ever killed by accident? (He'd kicked Miss Box once… Wait, no, Box wasn't a girl, last time he'd checked.)

He wasn't asking the right one. He tried again. “He died, I killed him a lot.” That wasn't what he meant either.

The light reemphasized MePad standing triumphant, causing him to sparkle and gleam.

Yeah, he couldn't do that dead. But… (Some part of him, not the part that was managing to dream right now… The deeper, more intellectual part was afraid to ask. Why, out of everyone here, did it pick him? Why MePad?)

But he had to know. MePad wasn't good at killing, MePad was very good at dying, MePad was so confused that whole time! Why him? Why MePad?

He couldn't figure out how to express this, this… Frustration-befuddlement-fear-worry.

You can't breathe in a dream. MePad couldn’t do it for real anyway. He was just a machine. Just a tool. He knew this, just a convenience. Just a helper. “I was built to die. Why?”

It rammed directly into him, and though it was done with force he did not hurt. He felt the pressure of this little light against the shape that was him and-

“Because I love you!” People said. Multiple people, trying to all say the same line, but desynced. It said it again, in Marshmallow’s voice and Baseball’s and Knife’s and MePhone’s. “I love MePad!”

It said it to him again and again, with different voices, but never any less loving. He'd asked himself so many times, why me, what makes me important?

It was so strange, having it said so simply. Awake MePad would want a spreadsheet for how this decision was reached, a pie chart of his useful qualities, some sort of help page in his user manual that explained it.

He couldn't use those right now. So instead, as it told him, it showed him things that had happened, and he didn't mind.

MePhone with a glowing heart, on stage with MePad. Then, crying over MePad. Then, hugging MePad tightly. All the while, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

A bedroom. A cave. A whiteboard. Love, love, love.

And he really began to realize what this light was. He didn't understand it in word-thoughts, but he knew.

It had been part of MePhone always. It was the childish spark within him, the hopeful part, the part that had patiently watched dreams with him until he was ready to join its world.

It wanted MePad because it trusted him, but also just because he was himself. It loved him just like he loved it. It was scared to go away and leave its world, just like he'd been, when he died. Wondering if they'd all be okay. Knowing he'd never have another moment with any of them.

It wrapped him up and held him and he couldn't find it in him to tell it how much its method hurt, how much pain it had caused. (He'd been so scared, felt so alone. He hadn't liked dying again, hadn't liked watching people stop... Being.)

That wasn't his problem right now. He wasn't sure he had a better idea, anyhow. Starting again and again was so simple. Infinite chances.

All that made sense, all he could find in himself to say was, “I love you, too.”

It kept trying to weave stories for him.

But, he kept trying to think about things. He knew it was futile. Now that he'd had a taste of questions, he couldn't really stop.

Fan’s baby had only just hatched. (Not Fan’s baby. They had left because they didn't want to be his baby.) This one was born too early. Would it be okay? Did it need to be in MePhone?

(Childish… He wasn't good enough to fix it all so easy. It gave him chances, so so many. So much trust… Was it watching? It saw him fail, over and over?)

A purple shape (familiar, he'd seen it before… Candle!) was yelling at green-glass-vial-of-goo... Test Tube! They kept making bad sky drawings (star charts?) which were just little dots connected with lines or with squiggly lines (writing?)

Test Tube made her own, and was loud back.

It didn't seem to know what words to give them, which he understood. It was hard, in here. But he also didn't know why they were mad.

After a long time, the two of them got so angry that they both left.

(Was this dying? Was death dreaming, too? He'd never gotten this far. He hoped the light was okay. He didn't want it to be dead.)

It was showing him something else now, it was familiar, sort of, because he didn't get it at all. A vehicle. Liquid being poured into something, and a big, big stirrer. Other stuff got added. He'd never seen this happen.

(Maybe it ran out of helping him. Maybe it saw X’s dad died and got too excited and fixed time too early, and he'd died. Maybe somebody had killed it first, and it couldn't help anymore because of that. He didn't like that idea.)

Stir, stir, stir. MePad liked cooking. You followed a recipe and everything was okay.

(Was X okay? … The first one wasn't. There was two… But he still got hurt. MePad didn't like this idea, either.)

He couldn't hold onto any of it, though, as important as everything felt. He had questions but he just... Couldn't follow things to their conclusions.

MePad had died a lot, hadn't he? It hurt. He didn't like to, but he kept doing it. It made MePhone sad. He kept doing it. He'd just talked to him, right? About-

Was it the same? (The same as what? What had he… Talked to MePhone about? Asbestos…?)

It took so much energy to think these half-thoughts. He drifted again, back into resting, bundled up in whatever the light wanted to show him.

Where was he?

That was it. That was what he wanted to know. He'd been yesterday over and over again, but he wasn't anymore. What happened? What changed?

He opened his mouth (he'd never had one) to ask it. "Why aren't I?" That wasn't what he meant, but it also sort of was. He'd been and right now he wasn't.

It… Ignored him? But only sort-of. It was still showing him things, this time a big tan thing being made smaller. Pieces were shaved off, and it was creating some sort of shape. Before, it had come from being a tree, and now it was to be something else.

(Wood. There was a part of him that felt silly for not instantly recognizing wood. But, that wasn't the point.)

But, it didn't say anything back.

MePad tried again. "Why are we? How is-" He was frustrated. It couldn't look at him, but it wasn't responding on purpose.

One more try. "What happened?" That was right. That was how an awake, alive person would ask it.

Sheepishly, the light put away the concept of wood just as it was being covered in something, now that it was the right shape. For a moment, there was nothing and he waited for it to clarify.

It made little drawings again, MePad and Cobs. MePad fell over, eyes spinning. Cobs fell forward, tongue sticking out, eyes covered with little shapes. (Two lines… Like his new friend. X. His face, it looked like that.)

Somebody else appeared, standing triumphantly on Cobs' back with a little grin. She was small and brown and rectangular, and she had two legs just like he was supposed to. Luggage? He knew her.

He tried to comprehend this. X over eyes, that means dead. But, swirls… That's not?

"If I'm not dead?" That wasn't a full question. "What am I instead?"

Mini MePad (no no, he was already that) was laid gently in a bed. Dreaming, he'd known that. Sleeping though, you could wake up from. Why hadn't he, yet? It felt like he'd been dreaming for a long time.

It showed the shadows, the other egg people, and it hid behind him in his bed. They stood, waiting. Sleeping MePad kept sleeping.

MePad, fake MePad, tiny MePad opened his eyes and the shadows took the light away.

Then it came back and looked at him.

They'd leave when he woke up?

"Are you keeping me asleep?"

It nestled into his side, not that he had one.

"Because…" He knew this, he felt this, but the way you'd say it with words… "Trepedation?" No, that was too big. A simpler word for a small little question sentence.

But, it understood what he meant. It snuggled a little closer and opened up its emotions, surrounded him with its fears. He tried not to be engulfed by them.

It hadn't ever talked to anybody, what if it wasn't good at it? It loved everyone, but now it had to leave them behind? What if it regretted it? What if the rest were dissapointed? It didn't even still have a shell! It didn't look like them anymore, and it didn't know how to be right, and, and-!

He pushed back, squishing this fear with his own sureness. Yes, it was scary. It never had been anything before, and that wasn't easy. But wouldn't it nice to be loved? Wouldn't it be nice to have people who understood what you're like and what you need?

MePad kept pushing his thoughts. It was small, right? Like a little fish. It was so difficult to care for a fish, if you didn't know what you were doing. It needed- a certain salinity, but the objects, the sweet and caring contestants couldn't possibly guess right. It could get sick, even if they didn't mean to.

He tried to show it all grown up, bigger and brighter and with a very appealing shell, coming back to see them. Wouldn't it be so wonderful, to come back and get to be that? Wouldn't it be so nice to be nutured, by people who knew what they were doing, like it was supposed to be?

It grabbed him tighter. He could do it! (The little light insisted.) He could raise it, he could help it grow up right! MePad could tell the others to go away, and- And he'd teach the light everything.

(He understood its eagerness, the life his best friend had offered was beautiful. Maybe he'd nurture minds someday. Maybe it was exactly what he could be good at…)

He couldn't, though. He didn't know how to-

(It held tighter.)

MePad had a lot to figure out for himself. He'd been so scared, so often.

(It would be okay, he'd be strong for it!)

He couldn't be. MePad wasn't okay, right now. It was just like… His- his- tealish turquoisish phone made a lot of people very sad, because he'd pretended to be strong when he couldn't be. He'd pretended and pretended and everyone was so, so...

There were others, where the light came from, that would know exactly what to do. And, if they didn't, they'd know who to ask. And it would thrive. And it would grow up so beautifully, and it would come to visit, and MePad would be right here. He'd be with his best friend, and he'd be with his family, and they would be so happy to see each other again.

(It agreed, it would be so nice. It still didn't want to let go of him.)

Right now, he couldn't be what it needed, and that was okay. He loved it, this wasn't because he didn't love it. But it had to go be nurtured, and he needed to wake up.

They embraced.

And then he woke up.

First, he knew that he hadn’t shut down properly. He didn’t often wake up to error messages, he tried to have a good sleep routine. But, these weren’t the usual kind.

Battery, SD card, SIM card, they all felt wrong. (Those were all the things you could open him up and remove. He wasn’t sure what to think about that.)

But, then his body’s sensations came to him. His legs felt both… Warmth, low level and ambient. Pressure, the feeling of having just enough weight on him. They were cozy.

His back was against something squishy. His front faced the air.

Next, he blinked open his eyes and found himself in an unfamiliar room. It took him a couple moments to get them to focus on anything.

By his bedside was a bright face. In the literal sense, lightness and darkness bright. He looked shocked, actually, and it took him a couple more moments to figure himself out.

"You're alive." 3GS whispered, almost reverently. Then he broke out into a grin. "You… You did it. I'm so glad to see you! Alive!"

MePad blinked back at him, struggling to process the now-novel experience of waking up normally. "Where are we?"

"Right! Well." MePhone3GS glanced around, looking at the dimly lit room they were in. (Though, this was more of a comfortable dimmness, facilitated by bulbs that could be adjusted. It wasn't the derelict feeling that closet had given him. MePad had no idea he cared so much about lighting.) "There's this young woman named Test Tube?"

Ah, that made sense. "She is a friend of mine."

3GS hadn't looked back at him yet, momentarily stopping to jerk, then he returned to looking deliberately in the direction of an outdated little tv. MePad focused on it too.

It appeared like a device that preceeded him, technologically, by a lot. However, its top was unaffected by dust, not lighter or darker than the rest. Perhaps it was generated, as all things were. But, that would mean…

MePad started getting notifications, it seemed he'd reconnected to a network. He tried to ignore them, toggling airplane mode back on. "When you said that I did it, what exactly-?"

"Oh!" Now MePhone3GS was looking at him. "You stood up to- to him!" He shuddered, seemingly involuntarily, as he reported this. "One moment, I was sitting where I always did and then I remembered! I remembered you, and-and your friends. And- and I realized that I'd seen you a couple times, and your companion, Mister Toilet, more times than that, and that right now was when Cobs-"

He stopped, clenching his fists and squeezing his eyes shut. He shook as he took in a long, deep breath, held it, and let it back out. "I was not there to assist you."

The last time he'd seen 3GS, they had been about to step out of the closet, together. To go fight for MePhone, together. He harbored no ill will, though. "That is alright, I am just glad-"

The door slammed open, causing the both of them to startle (3GS did so more dramatically, falling forward to clutch the bed, narrowly avoiding simply landing on the floor.)

MePhoneX stood in the doorframe, catching said door as it ricocheted and tried to hit him again. Then, with its threat nullified, he came floating forward, resting at the foot of MePad's bed.

3GS righted himself. MePad wasn't sure what his own face was doing, he felt numb. (Right? Or was it relief? Overwhelm? It was easier when he pretended he didn't feel anything.)

"My friend." He finally managed, "Are you alright? It was-"

MePhoneX came around to one side of the bed, leaning forward and grabbing each side of MePad with a hand. It was a bit awkward, seeing his face so close up, but he didn't mind.

"I am so, so glad you-"

X leaned back, then, gesturing to… The top of him?

His speaker? His mind?

X opened up his own settings menu.

His settings menu?

MePhoneX very deliberately mimed clicking the airplane mode toggle.

Wh- MePad blinked at him a few times, sharing a glance with 3GS (who didn't seem that bothered to see X, they must have been introduced…) He opened up his own menu before asking, "Must I? It saves battery."

X nodded vigorously, so MePad turned it back on. It took a few seconds for anything to happen, but he was soon bombarded with notifications again. Four apps wanted to update right this very second, the video platform (as always) wanted to tell him about everything other than the comment moderation he was sometimes in charge of, and-

Oh. He had text messages. Nobody ever texted him, it wasn't like he knew anyone outside the show. (He was a tablet and not a phone, even if he had friends, it wasn't that obvious that he could recieve a text message.)

But, there they were, from an unknown number. He opened them up and was aware of X leaning back a little, of 3GS tilting his head. He started to read them.

The first one, he'd recieved it before he'd turned off his wifi, was a collection of periods and underscores. The next one was, too. He squinted down at nothing as he considered them, attention trying to stray to the next notification but it was different. Morse? He couldn't read it by sight, but he was, of course, familiar. It seemed like an awful lot of text, but Morse Code was always like that, wasn't it?

He didn't have a translation guide on hand, he'd have to come back to this.

The next messages were different.

❔

❗

❕❗🆓🎉🎊✨

Huh, he'd never seen that emoji before. "Free." Clearly, this was a celebration.

The message after that was just an avalanche of emojis too dense for him to make out (a cat? A caution sign where two simplistic objects held hands, perhaps to cross a street? Fireworks display? Those were the first three, and they had nothing to do with each other as far as he could tell.)

They seemed happy, right? Or, at least neutral. MePhoneX wanted him to see this because…

His eyes widened. "Are these from you?"

MePad dinged with another notification.

👋❌👍

Waving and a thumbs up, with a red X in the middle. Cute!

MePad refocused on what was in front of him. X gripping him, 3GS tilted ever so slightly so he could peer past X at MePad's face.

He wished he could smile up at X, but MePad was sure he understood. "I am so very happy for you. To try punctuation and emojis- how very clever!" He'd been asleep, who knew for how long, and X could text! That was wonderful!

"Yeah, the-" 3GS barely started speaking before an involuntary shake seemed to cut him off. "You failed to mention this charming comrade of yours, MePad."

It was so bizzare, 3GS knowing his name (without having to remind him.) This wasn't an introduction.

"I suppose I did not." That was strange to think about. He hadn't seen 3GS and Mecintosh since Before X. Before he'd started paying attention to him, anyway. "I apologize, but I presume you have become aquainted in the meantime?"

"That we have! He wanted me to teach him to write!" 3GS laughed, eyes squeezed shut. "Can you believe-" a jolt, "-retro communication! How things change!"

... Had he never gotten a piece of paper for X? He'd meant to.

MePhoneX waved a claw around in a dismissive, reassuring kind of way.

"You're all so..." 3GS sighed, eyes still closed. "Interesting. I'm... Thank you."

"Technically I am not sure I did anything." His gaze wandered back to the old and yet not dusty television. It was off. He had the feeling people had played a lot of episodes of How It's Made on it. "We... Are out of the time loop, right?"

"I'm not in the closet." He pointed out, grinning widely.

X, meanwhile, nodded vigorously.

MePad... Wasn't sure how to feel about that. He'd been so bad at getting details in his dreams, barely able to pull himself together enough to even know how to ask.

Time had started looping when he died. The solution was to get vengeance and survive. It was so simple. So obvious. He could've done it at any time.

It wasn't even MePad that- who's outline had it been, that the premature Shimmer had drawn? Small and- Suitcase? No, no, that couldn't be right. He'd- had he forced her to kill for him? (That could not be good for her stress hallucinations.)

How long would it have taken him to truly, actually figure it out?

Because, here was the thing, he hadn't. He'd coincidentally stumbled into living long enough for someone else to kill Steve Cobs. It HAD been him for a reason, because that little light, it knew him and it trusted him. It thought he was the right person to fix everything for it. (It thought he was the right person to raise it. He… He'd need to think about that more, later, but…)

He'd been useless! He had literally just ran around, dragging it out, letting himself be killed. Killing himself instead of being somebody who could protect anyone else!

When his view changed from the TV to the ceiling he realized he had spaced out, attention coming back to his too-tense body.

MePhoneX had pulled away at some point and was now holding down some sort of toggle switch attached to a long cable. Seemingly it adjusted the whole bed's angle. Huh.

Then X grabbed the blanket his legs were tangled up in and draped it over MePad's entire screen. For an instant, as it was happening, he was baffled. But, it settled on him and the light of the room was blocked and it was ... Heavy. Pressing down on him like soil.

Oh. This was nice. He felt a little awkward with his legs and vents sticking out the bottom, but it was... Good.

"Sorry you had to hear all that." He said, doubtlessly muffled by the cover.

"You went completely silent." 3GS answered, gently patting his knee. "Much less- You've seen worse from me."

Right. X's secret was still just for the two of them. He hadn't told anyone in any loop, so no one knew. That was good.

(He wondered how long he would've managed to keep that one to himself, with a lack of consequences. He'd already started snapping at the others...)

The blanket was soft above him. He was glad. What was the last soft thing he'd touched? The bed in the room Pickle died in? Marshmallow's couch? The Invisibow was fabric, too, but he'd been wearing it so long that he stopped registering it. Beyond that, it was more silky than soft.

He was still struggling with processing, wasn't he?

Steve Cobs was dead. MePad could go up to MeCloud and he wouldn't automatically be thrown into the closet, because he couldn't order that, because he was dead. MePad could lay very still and not move and not have all those deaths on his conscience because he hadn't told Toilet and X to stop.

MePhone wasn't in danger of being stabbed. Toilet wasn't in danger of being shattered. OJ and Paper could stop arguing. Suitcase and Knife didn't need to fight to the death again.

If he was lucky, he'd never see Taco die again. Never see any of them die again.

The show was... Over. Everyone could go their separate ways. Live their lives. Grow and change and exist, without being worried that man would come back and declare they were beneath him again. Before he could hurt them just to hurt MePhone again.

They'd already started. MePhones X and 3GS had gotten aquainted. It turned out X could send texts.

… He should ask more about that. "How has communication been, so far? Have you found any methods you like, yet?" It felt silly, saying this while still fully under the blanket.

He, moments later, recieved a few more strings of emojis to parse.

👍⌨🔡🖥👍 (Keyboard, letters, and a computer. Thumbs up is a good thing, he must mean… Typing on a computer is good.)

👎📝✏👎 (Thumbs down for paper and pencil. He supposed this made sense, X's hands didn't seem very specialized for small details like writing required.)

⌚⏳ _._. 🕐🕦😑 (It took MePad a little longer to parse this one. Watch, hourglass, underscore and period, 1:15? what was that second time? But the face looked… Tired? Annoyed? Eventually he realized, periods and underscores. Morse code takes a long time? He agreed.)

🖼😀👍💬 (Picture, smile, thumbs up, speech bubble… His first guess was art, but there were more art-style emojis he could've included. Then he realized, it was a text bubble. He liked using emojis like this.)

Finally, he asked, "The third one is morse code, right?"

"I feel a little left out." 3GS reported. Ah, right.

"My apologies. I am making this somewhat more difficult, seeing as X cannot respond visually to me with any hopes of my understanding."

"It's fine! I'm- I'm glad you're around but, uhm." The sound of a chair scraping against the floor. "Left out isn't the right word, I'm not used to people so much. I'll just be under here."

MePad was trying to form a response as he got another notifications. He was added to a group chat with two unknown numbers. (He really should add X to his contacts.)

The first message was, 🟪+❌+⬜ (was MePad the purple square? Was 3GS the white one?) quickly followed by ✔🛌⬇. 🟩🖥🟩🫂❔

(Checkmark bed down. Under? 3GS had just went under, perhaps, and it was okay. Green square, computer, green square, a hug, and a question mark… MePad could think of one green computer, was Mecintosh here? He would need to get better at this.)

As MePad made a contacts profile for X, leaving the portrait unfortunately blank, he got another text notification. He'd never had so many, had the sound always been so annoying? (He'd have to change that, too.)

The other number, (presumably 3GS?) responded "l8r, mec wants 2 b left alone rn. thx mepad x, lmk if hiding under ur bed isnt cool!" This was a lot of text-talk, and it took him a minute to translate it.

(He sort of forgot that MePhone3GS was a phone that had come into existence when texting was already popular and shortening your texts for convenience was in fashion. He seemed so old, too old to type things like "l8r." That was just because of his circumstances, though, wasn't it?)

He added 3GS to his contacts, too, before he forgot. It was something to do, something that wasn't just laying and thinking.

It was odd, he hadn't been able to really utilize his systems while he was in the loop. Not his calendar, or written notes. It would've all been reset, right?

Now he could set alarms for the next day and be confident they would still be there. That was so strange.

(Had he actually tried changing things in his systems during that whole mess? He couldn't remember foolishly relying on something that would just get reset. Maybe he'd been wrong, maybe the fact MePad remembered would've been enough, and he could've taken notes. Now he would never know.)

MePad buzzed a couple more times with messages as he switched the vibration off. He really didn't need that, it wasn't like he could fail to notice a text.

Then, and only then, did he finally pay attention again, finding himself a member of a second new groupchat. (It was so odd, he'd never been in any and now he was in two.)

It had all three of his contacts, 3GS, X, and MePhone4, but also an unknown number. Everyone had the same area code.

The only thing in there was a message from X, 🟪🆙

He should probably respond somehow, but for some reason that sounded exhausting. He'd been awake for how long and he was already tired?

(No, the real question was how long had he been asleep?)

There was a loud bang! as the door (presumably) slammed open again. Somehow louder was MePhone4's voice as he shouted MePad's name.

Suddenly, MePad felt like he really shouldn't be laying down, but to prop the bed up would take finding the button. To sit up by himself would mean dislodging this blanket.

"Hello, sir." He managed to say, perhaps too nonchalantly.

MePhone seemed to agree. "Don't you hello, sir me! What was all that?!"

For once, he had an answer. "I had been wondering that myself, but I have recently been informed that the time loop was caused-"

"Not the stupid time loop! Sure, whatever, that was weird. What was all you? You- you took a knife for me! You JUMPED OFF A CLIFF! I had to watch you die, like, a dozen times! You just overheated yourself so bad that Test Tube had to air you out to make sure you didn't blow yourself up! AND you nearly exploded your battery! How do you even come up with this stuff?! Have you been suicidal this whole-" He stopped, making some sound MePad couldn't place. "Not now, X. He stopped me from surrendering by killing himself, and then made me surrender anyway! I've got a right to know what the- Terrorism! What kind of terrorism did you even do?"

Ah, no, this made more sense why he was so… Pushed. "I attempted to blow up MeCloud, it did not go as I intended. But, I apologize, I did not mean for you to remember-"

"That you killed yourself a bunch? What, were you just gonna pretend nothing happened?" Obviously he could not see MePhone4, but he knew he must be shaking. "My god, what is wrong with you?"

He didn't have a plan, to pretend nothing happened or otherwise. He'd just been throwing things at the wall to see what stuck. (The time loop necessitated everyone live. If he hadn't been so brazen with his safety, he wouldn't have caused his loved ones to suffer so much. They died because he died, they hurt because he hurt.)

He wanted to say that he'd just done what was necessary, but MePad wasn't even sure that was true. He had no way of knowing he was working against everyone's best interests, but was that enough of a justification?

MePad wasn't breathing correctly. He didn't need to, it didn't matter if he took one breath an hour or hyperventilated everywhere he went, but he still noticed it. It was uncomfortable, to breathe shallowly.

He'd been asked a question.

"A lot." Had it been too long since he'd been asked? He should clarify. "I think a lot is wrong with me."

"Ugh." The bed creaked as someone sat on it and an instant later, he felt something smooth and flat lay across his legs. "Yeah, I think- I think there's something really wrong with me, too."

"You're in good company, comrade!" 3GS exclaimed, and the bed creaked again, probably as MePhone4 jerked in shock. "I'm under the bed, sorry!"

Normally, he would try to say something to deny that there was anything wrong. Or, at least, something that politely downplayed it. However, Inanimate Insanity was sort of a very obvious reflection of MePhone4's troubled psyche in ways that would be… Interesting to think about later, when he had the time. Also, MePhone3GS seemed to externalize his flashbacks by playing clips of the terrible things that had happened. Both of those things were sort of difficult to deny.

Instead, he said, "I think, perhaps, it comes with the territory of our inherent planned obselesence, sir."

"Yeah, well, I'm older so I get to die first." He felt something press against the blanket and his screen underneath, likely MePhone's hand.

"Actually-!" 3GS' voice was a little less muffled, "As the eldest-"

"Nope! You're living forever." MePhone said. "My point was, MePad. No more overdoing it like that or- or scaring me or pretending you're not a person or swimming. Okay? No more cliffs or- none of it!"

"You do know that, as I do not work for you anymore-" The blanket was pulled down, revealing his eyes to the (suddenly, too-bright) room. He blinked a couple times, trying to adjust again.

3GS was peeking up over the corner of the mattress. X stood in the middle, propping MePhone up.

He rolled his eyes. (There were still tears in them. MePhone had been crying.) "The new guy is really difficult." He complained.

X nudged him, insistently. He sighed, reaching out to touch MePad again. "I don't care that- Ugh. I should've said this more often, I guess. I love you, okay? Don't- don't make me bury you."

There were a lot of things he could've said back, lots of better, put together responses. Something eloquent. Instead, all he could seem to manage, was to do his best to smile back at him and say, "Okay."

And he meant it.

(Moments later, he was thuroughly embraced, and he got to marvel at this moment. At this impossible little reunion of people that shouldn't have survived. But, mostly he was just glad they all had arms, because he didn't have enough limbs to embrace them all.)