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A bony hand rests on the Fatsimile’s head, the fingers intertwined with its greasy matted hair. Can’t tell if that’s a faded shirt underneath the flannel, or a dull leather with the holes worn through with decomposition. The breastbone was long torn out, leaving what snapped ribs you can see ending in jagged points. Black ichor dripped from the bottom of the diamond-shaped helmets, adorned with large spindly antlers, seemingly absorbing all the light around it save for the white back-light. And the small circle of light rapidly flickering between yellow and pink.

“Hehe, backing out already Judge?” I don’t respond, keeping my hands on the doors so they close quietly. Lynn can tell something’s wrong, so she softens her tone asking, “What’s wrong? Is something out there?”

I nod, shakily pointing at the small double door windows.

Her legs extend high enough for her to peek through, immediately falling back into place with a thud. Her face is all white and she still looks like she’s gone pale.

I keep my voice down to a whisper. “Any ideas?”

I notice the loading bar on her visor now, but it keeps flickering, losing progress. “I can’t... just one Fatsimile wouldn’t be so bad, but the Undoelester’s fully-” She stops herself, and the loading bar suddenly fills the other end of the visor.

“Get back!”

I fall on my ass scrambling backwards right when a blur of dark lard bursts through the double doors, skidding out far down the hallway. The wide puppet head snaps towards me, the rest of its body reorienting as it starts lumbering to my position.

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Two deafening gunshots put fresh holes in the beast’s face. It’s lifeless corpse rolls to a stop before it can reach me. I stumble out from behind the door, ears still ringing from the weapon being fired in an enclosed space.

Lynn steps out from her position as well, her stance low, gripping a pistol with both hands, finger back off the trigger. It’s difficult to make out what she tells me to do, even when reading her lips. The simple graphic displayed on her visor does a good enough job conveying the message. With the UI automatically following along with LYNN’S IDEA, I charge at the Fatsimile and start pushing it back, away from the doorway.

Ugh, it’s so greasy. Any time I get my hands reoriented, there’s no friction for me to keep me pushing this thing reliably for more than a foot at a time. The battle still seems to be on, judging by the further gunshots echoing out from the stairwell and the persistence of the interface. There’s got to be a better way to move this butterball.

Oh shit there’s a QTE this time. Wielding the scarf in both hands, whipping the end when the target lines up enough with the reticle. On hit, the Fatsimile gets launched forward a couple feet. Damn, this thing’s heavy, but this is handling much better.

I’m able to get a good rhythm going with all this practice, broken when the corpse finally pops. The momentum has me plummeting through the same red mist that Impost exploded into, as well as some new white sparks that linger long enough for me to notice.

Ah hell. The Fatsimile might be gone, but the grease is still here. It’s a struggle even getting away from the oily puddle, let alone getting back to my feet in these socks soaked with corpse juice. Absolutely fucking vile.

The battle UI is still up, and the stairwell’s flashing white with faint gunshots. Lynn could use some backup. Better make sure not to step in this puddle first. The rippling silicon pattern’s giving me some much-needed friction. Should be enough to pick up the pace.

I’m halfway down the hall when something from the connecting hallway tackles me to the ground. This Impost trying to bite my face off’s bigger than I’m used to, but its still light. Gripping it by the corners, I’m able to kick up under it hard enough to flip on its back with a loud plap.

The battle box appears in front of me again. In addition to the lines of text, white packages start falling from the above the box to explode at the bottom. The first explosion does a chunk of damage, causing me to cry out from the flash of burning pain. A message blindsiding me right after the invincibility frames feels like a punch in the gut. It disappears, and with a lingering soreness, I’m back on my feet.

Ugh, four to one, not including the stunned Impost within face-stomping distance. Two more are slowly approaching where it came from, as well as a pair of new feral darkners for me. Green tinted cardboard boxes with carrying holes facing me, pairs of yellow eyes locked in my direction from blackness, light steps forward on striped pink paws, tails ending with pink mouse cursors swaying back and forth.

* CATBOX – AT 2 DF 3
* Just full of surprises!

Of course.

Backing up gets me a chance for a quick stomp on the Impost’s foot before the battle box appears, which I’m more prepared for this time. Now if these Catboxes are anything like the site, there’s a couple of things that could incapacitate them that come to mind. But I don’t really have time to waste here, Lynn could be in trouble. Need to FIGHT.

Okay so whipping the scarf like this has enough range to hit enemies from this far away, good to know.

Luckily these darkners are weak enough to burst into mist when they’re desperate enough to lunge, and within a few turns I’m back to running for the stairwell. Don’t see anymore gunshots, and the battle UI disappears by the time I reach the doorway.

“LYNN? YOU ALRIGHT?”

“JUDGE! I’M UP HERE!”

There’s a trail of black liquid descending the stairs further into the darkness of the lower levels. I opt to backtrack, following it upstairs to find Lynn propping herself against the wall, her arm in pieces and visor cracked, overhead lights illuminating the way further up ahead.

“Gosh, Judge, you look like hell.”

“Speak for yourself. Can you still see with your screen shattered like that?”

“Technically. A Heal Prayer would fix me up... although,” she looks down at her arm sheepishly, “some assembly may be required first.”

“Yeah, I got you.” I take the- oh. Never got a look at this thing’s name since I pocketed it...fine, I equip the Tight Screw from my KEY items. “You didn’t happen to save your screws, did you?” Lynn opens up the hand still attached to her. “Good. You want to sit down for this?”

“Might as well.” She bends forward into a crouch, I help brace her as she sits, leaning back on the wall again. After gathering the pieces of arm, I take the handful of screws and get started with her forearm.

As soon as I begin twisting, Lynn winces, shivering from the sensation. She turns her head at me, a hint of remorse behind her polite smile. “Judge?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you mind just holding my parts in place so I can screw them in myself?” She looks down. “It’s not... the same, when it’s self-repair.”

“...you were able to kill that darkner, right?”

“Not before it fled, no. High level Darkners possessed by FREN are hard to kill at max level, let alone for heroes like us. Please, just... give me the screwdriver.”

I do so with no argument, kneeling by her side as she reassembles her arm. She’s able to rotate the sockets to get better angles. The further in the screws get, the more I can feel a steady pulse growing under the plastic shell. She squeezes my hand when hers is fully connected.

She hands the tool back for me to put in my inventory, and I sit myself next to her. She leans her head against my arm, so I wrap it around her shoulders and pull her in.

I wait for her to nod before letting her sit back up on her own.

Still sore from my own battle, I take out DD-Burger from my inventory, quickly unwrapping it and taking a big bite. Really puts the char in charbroiled. Could use some sauce, but it’s still flavorful and filling. As I take a bite about halfway through, I look down to see a full Dark Burger in my hands instead. Jesus, that’s uncanny.

I offer it to Lynn, who declines. “It won’t repair my form like your Heal Prayer will. Save it for when I’m in a pinch, okay?”

I nod, and manage to conjure a floating ball of green light in my hands, lowering it into Lynn’s lap. When it makes contact with her body, her entire form briefly flashes the same green, all of the battle damage and her fatigue gone with it.

“Ahh, you did it!” She hops up with her arms around me, lifting me to my feet and pulling me in for a tight hug. “You always take such good care of me, Judge.”

“I try.” I return the hug with a squeeze, tapping out before too long. “We should keep moving, right?”

“Mmhmm!” She follows behind me as we make our way up to the next floor. “Not only in the stairwells, though. Anything could be lurking above or below us, and if FREN is already this close to the Fountain, we really need to start leveling up.”

“And find better equipment, I bet.” She hums in agreement.

“Not to get too far ahead of myself, but FREN is basically a hivemind virus thing, right?”

“Right. You’re a Lightner, so you shouldn’t have to worry about becoming a part of it like-” She stops herself, but I understand the implication well enough. “There’s plenty of equipment behind the non-patient rooms! We’re bound to find equipment its weak to with enough scavenging!”

“Definitely.”

Not too much longer before the next set of double doors is in front of us. “Think we can skip th-” I’m interrupted with the sound of gurgling from above us, so I hold the door open for Lynn. “After you.”

“You’re too kind!” Glad she’s actually feeling better.

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Pub: 22 Aug 2025 07:39 UTC

Edit: 24 Aug 2025 08:52 UTC

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