Chapter Text
The hatch creaks open, tense silence weighing down the room as you watch a figure descend the ladder. You brace yourself for the worst, gripping the edge of your seat. A moment later, you let out a slow, shaky breath as the figure comes into view—N.
Relief washes over you, at least for a second.
Your eyes dart toward V, whose expression is unreadable. With a subtle movement, she shifts her leg and slyly kicks the severed chain link out of sight, making the restraint appear intact.
You aren’t sure if N notices, but he doesn’t seem to care. His yellow eyes are dim, his usual wide grin nowhere to be seen. That immediate relief is replaced by a growing unease as you realize something is wrong.
N climbs down and steps into the room, his movements slower than usual. He isn’t his bright and excitable self that V had told you about—far from it. His shoulders sag, his blazer crumpled and speckled with dirt. You glance around, hoping to see Uzi, but the ladder remains empty.
Clearing your throat awkwardly, you ask, “Uh... where’s Uzi?”
N freezes for a moment, then murmurs, “She’s at the bunker,” his voice so quiet it’s almost a whisper. Without another word, he slumps into the corner of the room, sitting down and pulling his knees to his chest.
You blink, thoroughly confused, before casting a quick glance at V. She’s already looking at you, her neon eyes meeting yours.
For once, there’s no teasing or smugness in her expression—just genuine confusion and maybe a bit of concern. It’s strange, but you figure she’s probably just as thrown off as you are.
You both stare at N for a moment. His arms are wrapped tightly around his legs, his head bowed low. This is definitely not the N you’d heard about. From what V had said—and even from what little you’d seen of him—he was supposed to be bubbly, excitable, and relentlessly positive.
The awkward silence stretches between you all like a thick fog, each second dragging on longer than the last.
You shift uncomfortably in your seat, stealing another glance at V. She seems to be studying N, her usual sharp demeanor softened by what looks like curiosity. If she has any idea what was going on, she’s not sharing it.
After a few long moments, you sigh, relieved at least that Uzi is apparently safe. But the room is still heavy with unspoken tension. You want to say something, anything, to break the silence, but you have no idea where to start.
So instead, you just sit there, caught between the odd presence of a subdued N and a disarmingly quiet V. The strange combination of the two leaves you more unsettled than you care to admit.
The silence is finally broken by V, though her voice lacks its usual sharp edge. She leans back in her seat, arms crossed, her tone a mix of mockery and frustration.
“This is worse than the usual torture,” she said, her yellow eyes narrowing at N. “What’s this supposed to be, huh? Punishment for something? Because if it is, I don’t remember signing up for it.”
Her words linger in the air, but N doesn’t react. He stays curled up in the corner, staring down at his knees, completely unresponsive.
V’s smirk falters. Her usual confidence seems to waver as she watches him, her expression softening in a way you don’t expect. For a moment, she almost looks... sad. Concerned, even.
Her gaze flicks to you, but she doesn't say anything else.
You shift uncomfortably, then shooting her a reassuring look, trying to silently tell her that things would be okay. V’s lips twitch slightly, like she wants to say something snarky, but she doesn't. Instead, she leans forward in her seat, her fingers absentmindedly brushing over the chain still hanging around her neck.
The moment feels uncomfortably raw, more vulnerable than you’d ever thought you’d see from her. Still, your attempt to reassure her doesn’t seem to have much effect. She quickly looks away, her usual mask slipping back into place.
You glance back at N, still silent in his corner. Whatever had happened to him—or to Uzi—was big enough to shake even him. And somehow, the heavy silence in the room feels even harder to bear.
V’s fingers drum idly against the armrest of her chair as she studies N, her yellow eyes flickering with a glint of thought. Finally, she straightens up, her usual smirk creeping back onto her face.
“You know what, N?” she says, breaking the silence. “I’ve got something useful for you to do.”
N perks up almost immediately, his radiant eyes snapping to her, hopeful. “Really? What is it?”
V leans forward, resting her elbow on her knee and pointing lazily at him. “I need you to grab me a couple of human skeletons.”
N blinks, tilting his head. “Skeletons?”
“Yeah. Fancy ones,” V says casually, waving a hand as if it’s the most natural request in the world. “You know, the kind that are wearing those dapper outfits humans used to love so much.” Her smirk widens slightly. “I mean, I know how much you want to look dapper yourself, right? This’ll get you in the spirit.”
N’s face lights up, his earlier sadness melting away. “Oh, dapper skeletons! That sounds amazing!”
V glances at you, her smirk shifting into something a little more mischievous. “Actually,” she adds, her tone almost too casual, “make it three skeletons. Trust me, we’ll need one more.”
Your eyebrows shoot up as V shoots you a knowing glance, clearly enjoying your confusion.
N doesn’t even notice. He’s already on his feet, practically vibrating with excitement. “Got it! Three fancy skeletons coming up!” he chirps, dashing toward the ladder.
The hatch clangs open, and before you can get a word in, N’s already climbing out. The hatch slams shut behind him, leaving you and V alone once more.
V leans back, satisfied, her yellow eyes gleaming with amusement as she watches your reaction. “Well,” she says, her tone dripping with smugness, “that should keep him busy for a bit.”
As the sound of N’s excited movements outside fades, you glance over at V, crossing your arms. “Okay, seriously, what’s with the skeletons? You’re not planning to start some weird art project, are you?”
V smirks, her yellow eyes narrowing slightly. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she says, her tone dripping with a teasing aura.
You roll your eyes. “Yeah, actually, I would.”
Her smirk grows wider, but she leans back lazily in her chair, keeping her answer deliberately vague. “Let’s just say it’ll be important later. You’ll see.”
“Right,” you say dryly, choosing not to be sarcastic in return, you instead try to catch her off guard. “Well, I hope N finds a good dress while he’s out. If the colors match, it’d look nice with your brooch.”
The words leave your mouth without much thought, but you instantly notice the shift in V’s demeanor. Her teasing grin vanishes, replaced by an expression you haven’t seen before: surprise, and something far heavier. Her gaze drops to her lapel, her fingers brushing the brooch lightly as that same melancholy, distant look crosses her face.
For a moment, you almost regret saying it. She stares at you with an unreadable intensity, her yellow eyes softened by something you can’t quite name. Then she quietly murmurs, “Are you…?”
She trails off, shaking her head sharply, as if snapping herself out of a thought she doesn’t want to finish. Her smirk flickers back into place, though it feels forced this time. “I hope N brings you a clown outfit,” she says breezily, though her voice lacks its usual bite. “I think that’d suit you.”
You blink, caught off guard by the sudden deflection, but decide not to push further. V’s already leaned back again, her usual teasing mask slipping back into place, though her fingers still linger near the brooch.
A sudden buzzing noise draws your attention to V, who’s casually pulling an old, cracked smartphone from her coat pocket. She glances at the screen, her expression unreadable as her sharp yellow eyes scan the message. Without a word, she types a response, the tapping of her fingers against the shattered glass loud in the otherwise quiet room.
Then, without warning, she stands up. “Thanks for letting me out,” she says, her tone nonchalant, though there’s a hint of curiosity there. “I have no idea why you’d do something that stupid, but… thanks.”
You watch, frowning as she heads toward the ladder. “Wait, where are you going?” you ask, alarm creeping into your voice.
She pauses, throwing a glance over her shoulder. “Girl stuff,” she replies, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “Don’t worry your little processor about it. I’ll be back later.”
Your frown deepens, suspicion gnawing at you. “You’re not—” You hesitate, trying to find the right words. “You’re not planning to, I don’t know, murder anyone, right?”
V snickers, turning around to face you fully. “Wow, no trust. I said I wouldn’t, didn’t I?” Her voice carries a mock-offended edge, but for some reason, you find yourself believing her.
“I… guess you did,” you admit reluctantly.
Her smirk widens, and she brushes a strand of silver hair over her shoulder. “Good. I’ll be back before the golden retriever returns from playing fetch.”
Without waiting for your response, she climbs the ladder and swings open the hatch. “Thanks again,” she tosses over her shoulder, and with one last amused grin, she disappears outside, the hatch slamming shut behind her.
You sit there in stunned silence for a moment, staring at the empty space where she’d just been. “What the hell…” you mutter under your breath.
It finally sinks in. You’re sitting in the middle of nowhere, inside a Disassembly Drone’s ship, completely alone. Uzi is back at the bunker with Thad, N is off skeleton-hunting, and V—possibly the most dangerous person you’ve ever met—is out there doing girl stuff. Whatever that means.
Your gaze drifts to the bolt cutters still sitting on the floor, and you can’t help but laugh quietly to yourself, though it’s more nervous than anything. Somehow, you’ve managed to land yourself in a situation so absurd you wouldn’t believe it if someone else told you.
“What am I even supposed to do now?” you mutter.
You sit there for a while, lost in thought, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. On one hand, the logical thing to do would be to return to the bunker. Uzi and Thad are back there, and your job is to fix things—keep the place from falling apart. But on the other hand, you haven’t been killed yet, which is... kind of a relief? You're not sure if it's because they trust you or if it’s something else entirely. Either way, it feels like you should keep your distance from the bunker for now. You can’t shake the feeling that keeping an eye on the disassembly drones might be important—especially for the safety of everyone else. Although, you have just allowed both of them to leave, so you already failed that task.
It’s a lot to handle.
In an attempt to focus, you stand up and begin pacing around the small interior of the ship. Your fingers brush against the worn tools scattered about, and for some reason, you find yourself picking them up and starting small repairs, tightening bolts, fixing random components. The clinking of metal against metal is oddly soothing.
It’s almost automatic. You’ve fixed countless things before, whether it’s machinery at the bunker or making sure the disassembly drones’ equipment is working properly. Something about it just feels... right.
As you work, you can’t help but let your mind wander. This ship, a small, clunky thing that’s seen better days, is a reminder of how much you’ve had to adapt since you arrived on Copper-9. What once felt like a strange, isolated life has slowly morphed into something more complex. The nightmares, the strange voices, the unsettling and more so confusing encounters with the disassembly drones… you’re not sure what to make of any of it.
But for now, you fix things. It’s something you can control.
The soft whir of a tool tightening a screw, the satisfying click of a piece snapping into place—it grounds you in a way nothing else does right now. It’s a small comfort in the middle of the chaos.
After about an hour of working, lost in the rhythm of tightening bolts and fixing minor issues on the control panel, you hear a thud—followed by the sound of the hatch opening. You’re so focused on your work that you barely react, and then another thud as someone lands on the pod, the footsteps echoing in the quiet space. Your concentration doesn’t break, though. You continue to adjust the components, keeping your hands busy, trying to focus on the task at hand.
Then, a voice cuts through the stillness.
“Well, well. What are you doing?”
You glance up to see V standing there, her presence familiar yet unpredictable.
“Welcome back,” you say with a small smile, easing up slightly. “I was bored, a little stressed. Fixing things is relaxing for me, so that’s what I’ve been doing.”
V’s gaze shifts for a brief moment, her sharp demeanor flickering as she watches you work. There’s a subtle change in her expression, one you can’t quite place.
She quickly brushes it off, her usual tone returning. “I didn’t kill anyone. You should be happy about that.”
You chuckle, shaking your head lightly as you reply with an appropriate amount of sarcasm, “I am. You’re being such a good Disassembly Drone today, aren’t you?”
V scoffs sharply, turning her head to the side, but not before you catch the faint flicker of a pixelated blush on her cheeks.
She watches as you return to your work, arms crossed as though she’s trying to maintain her usual edge. For a moment, the room feels lighter, the tension you’ve grown used to not as heavy.
For now, at least, things seem... manageable.
As you continue to work, tightening bolts and carefully inspecting the control panel, V speaks up, her voice casual but carrying a hint of curiosity.
“So... you really like fixing things, huh? Being a technician or whatever?”
You glance at her briefly before returning to your task, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, I do. There’s something... satisfying about it. Taking something broken, figuring out what’s wrong, and making it work again. It’s like solving a puzzle, except when you’re done, you actually have something useful to show for it.”
V lets out a soft chuckle, sitting in her usual seat. “Sounds dull. But you don’t look like you think so.”
You chuckle softly, setting a tool down and picking up another. “I wouldn’t expect you to get it. But for me, it’s relaxing. It’s straightforward—machines don’t lie, they just need someone to care enough to put them back together. And I like feeling like I’ve accomplished something, you know? That I’ve made things better, even just a little.”
Her silence makes you glance over, and you notice something unexpected. Her sharp, guarded expression seems to have softened.
“It’s not the most exciting job,” you admit, “but it’s important. And... I like it. I think I’m pretty good at it too.”
V’s eyes flicker as she watches you, her usual smirk fading into something almost contemplative. “Huh,” she murmurs, more to herself than to you.
You try not to stare, turning back to your repairs, but you can feel her gaze lingering. It’s not threatening or teasing—just... thoughtful.
“You’re weird,” she finally says, though her tone lacks the bite it usually carries.
You smile without looking up. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
As you tighten the last bolt and lean back to inspect your work, you pause for a moment, glancing over your shoulder at V. She’s still leaning back in her seat, her gaze distant but attentive, like she’s been listening the whole time.
“Don’t get me wrong, I do like the routine of fixing things around the bunker,” you say, adjusting a loose wire. “But... sometimes it feels like it’s too easy to get caught up in what’s expected of you, you know? Like there’s no room for anything else.”
V doesn’t respond immediately, but you notice her posture shift slightly, her fingers fidgeting against the edge of her lapel.
You continue, half to her and half to yourself. “But we don’t have to just follow the routine because it’s easier. You can change things, even if just a little.”
The sound of her chair squeaking makes you look up sharply. V stands abruptly, staring at you like you’ve just said something impossible. Her glowing eyes widen, flickering faintly, and there’s something in her expression you can’t quite place—shock, and something that looks like... longing?
You straighten up, brows furrowing with concern. “V? You okay? Did I say something wrong?”
Her gaze doesn’t waver, but her usual sharpness is gone, replaced by an uncharacteristic hesitation. She stammers, her voice unusually quiet. “It’s... fine. You didn’t—no. It’s not wrong.”
The unsteady tone of her response is enough to catch you completely off guard. For a moment, she looks vulnerable, almost fragile, but as quickly as it appears, she glances away, brushing imaginary dust off her jacket.
You hesitate, trying to read her expression, but she’s already started pulling herself back together. “Alright,” you say carefully, watching her. “If you’re sure.”
“Yeah,” she replies, her voice firmer now, though she still won’t meet your eyes. “I’m sure.”
She sits back down with a deliberate nonchalance, crossing her legs and smirking faintly, though it doesn’t reach her eyes. “You’re annoying, you know that?”
You chuckle softly, shaking your head as you turn back to your work. “I’ll take that as a compliment too.”
She doesn’t respond, but as you glance at her one last time, her fingers are resting lightly against the brooch pinned to her lapel, her expression distant and pensive.
As you gather up the tools and sweep the scattered screws into a small container, the silence in the pod is heavy but not uncomfortable. V stays seated, her gaze fixed somewhere far away, lost in thought. You decide not to disturb her, letting her process whatever’s going through her mind.
The quiet is broken by a familiar thud on the roof of the pod, followed by the creak of the hatch opening. You instinctively glance up as N’s unmistakable silhouette drops down into the room.
“Guess who’s back!” N announces, his neon eyes bright as ever. Despite the frigid air clinging to him, he’s practically buzzing with excitement, clutching three snow-covered skeletons in his arms like some sort of morbid treasure.
You blink, your hands pausing mid-cleanup as you take in the sight. One skeleton is draped in a dress, its icy fabric shimmering faintly. Another sports a suit, the frozen material stiff but unmistakably formal. The third skeleton’s outfit catches your attention—a flattering ensemble. You assume it’s meant for you, as well as noting the careful way N handles the skeletons.
“They’re in amazing condition, right?” N exclaims, holding them up proudly. “I found them near an old mansion! Well, what was left of it, anyway. The snow really helped preserve them.” He beams, his eyes glowing with pride as he looks between you and V, clearly eager for praise.
V crosses her arms, leaning back in her chair with a smirk. “Not bad, N. You actually managed to do something useful for once.”
The compliment makes him light up instantly, his body practically vibrating with joy. “Really? You think so?”
“Yeah,” you add with a nod, your voice warm. “Great work, N. You put a lot of effort into this.”
If N wasn’t already vibrating, he might’ve started now. His delighted hum fills the pod as he practically bounces on his heels. “Yay! I knew you guys would appreciate my hard work! Dapper skeleton buddies for everyone!”
You glance at V, who rolls her eyes but doesn’t hide the faint amusement tugging at her expression. As N continues to excitedly explain the details of his find, you can’t help but chuckle softly. Somehow, the odd dynamic in the pod feels a little less tense. For now, at least.
N’s delighted hum trails off as V leans forward, a mischievous smile spreading across her face. "You’ll look very dapper for the prom,” she says casually.
Both you and N whip around to stare at her, voices overlapping in confusion. "Prom?!"
V nods, her grin widening as she leans back in her chair, clearly enjoying the shock on your faces. “Yeah. Prom. You know, big gathering, fancy outfits, awkward dancing, total carnage… you’ll fit right in, N.”
N’s eyes brighten, his posture shifting as though he’s imagining it already. “Prom?” he repeats wistfully. “I do want to look dapper…” His expression falters, though, his shoulders slumping slightly. “But we can’t go back to the bunker. We’re too dangerous to be around them…” His voice grows quieter, and his gaze drifts, a bittersweet expression crossing his face.
V waves a hand dismissively, sitting up straight. “Relax. We’ll just show up. That annoying emo one will let us in—she’s got no friends, so she’ll be desperate for the company.” She glances at you, her smirk widening briefly. “And then…” She pauses dramatically, her eyes glinting. “We’ll kill them all!”
Both you and N freeze, staring at her in stunned silence.
V coughs awkwardly as she notices your genuine fright, her posture shifting as she suddenly backtracks. “I mean… maybe no murder. Probably. We’ll see how the night goes.”
N crosses his arms with a pout. “I’m not gonna free you for PROM MURDER, V!” he declares firmly, his voice a strange mix of indignation and disappointment.
Both you and V glance at the broken chain link on the floor. You’re too stunned to comment, but V shoots you a quick look that screams Don’t say a word.
Oblivious to the exchange, N starts pacing in his usual animated fashion. “Besides, we’ve got bigger problems! Like J going all holo-spooky snake crab!” He gestures wildly, as if the act itself might summon J. You don’t even want to question what he means by this. “And, oh yeah, how the two of us maybe grew up in a haunted mansion or something! Doesn’t it bother you, V? You’re not the least bit curious why we don’t remember where we came from?”
V stiffens, her smirk faltering for just a moment. She looks away, hiding her face as if she doesn’t want either of you to see what might’ve been—no, surely it wasn’t—a flicker of guilt.
Her gaze lands on a shattered mirror mounted on the wall, its jagged fragments catching the dim light. She stares at her distorted reflection for a long moment before speaking, her tone unusually measured. “N… promise me something.”
He stops pacing and tilts his head. “Huh?”
She doesn’t look at him, her eyes still fixed on the mirror. “Promise me that you and that purple thing will stop digging into that stuff. Let it go.”
N hesitates, his brow furrowing. “But—”
“If you do that,” V interrupts, turning back toward him, her usual smirk replaced by something softer. “I swear I’ll behave myself at prom. No murder. Cross my heart.”
Her yellow eyes glint with a mix of sincerity and something harder to place.
Both N and V glance at the key sitting across the room. Its dull, metallic glint catches the low light.
N narrows his eyes, his voice quieter now but insistent. “V… if you’re hiding something, we can figure it out together. You don’t have to—”
His gaze softens, almost pleading. “What makes you think you-?”
A sharp, mechanical whip cuts through the silence.
Before you can even process what’s happening, V’s tail lashes forward, slicing clean through N’s neck. His head drops to the floor with a soft clunk, rolling a few feet away.
“ Know what’s best for you, ” V finishes for him, her tone eerily calm.
Your breath catches in your throat as N’s body slumps to the ground in a heap of limbs. The silence feels suffocating. You stare at V in utter disbelief, unable to find your voice as she casually walks over and retrieves the key. The soft clink of it unlocking the broken chain around her neck pulls you back into reality.
Finally, you stammer, “You… you just—what did you do ?!”
V glances at N’s lifeless body like it’s little more than a discarded coat. “Relax, he’s fine. His head’ll be back in a few minutes. That’s how we work, duh.” She shrugs, kicking the now unlocked chain across the room. “Poor guy’s too innocent to agree to my promise. I knew he wouldn’t.”
You take an instinctive step back as she turns to face you, but her yellow eyes hold no malice. “Don’t look at me like that,” she says with a teasing smirk. “ You can still trust me. I swear I’ll behave—no murder, I swear. Unless they deserve it.”
Her expression shifts ever so slightly, the faintest hint of sincerity flickering behind her mischievous demeanor. You meet her gaze, searching for any sign of a lie, and to your surprise, you can’t find one.
“Fine,” you mutter reluctantly, pointing an accusatory finger at her. “But if you slice my head off, it won’t grow back. So you better not give me the N treatment.”
V chuckles, a surprisingly genuine laugh that softens the tension in the room. “I won’t, techie~”
She turns toward the exit, once again the broken chain aside like she has a grudge against it as you both get ready to leave. After changing into your respective outfits—hers quite gorgeous, yours… a bit less defined—you climb up after her.
You’re barely out of the hatch when you’re suddenly pulled into a tight, abrupt hug.
Your breath hitches, face flushing as V wraps her arms around you. She doesn’t say anything, just holding you there for a brief, fleeting moment.
Before you can even react, V looks down at you, her usual smirk back in place as her wings extend with a sharp shing. “Ready for prom, partner?”
“Wait— what —”
You don’t get a chance to argue. Her hands grip you tightly, and with one powerful beat of her wings, you’re airborne.
The wind roars in your ears as V carries you effortlessly toward the bunker, her hold surprisingly gentle despite her usual rough demeanor. As the freezing landscape of Copper-9 speeds by below, one thought echoes in your mind:
What the hell have I gotten myself into?