Work Text:
Is this it? A tumbling void of wasteland?
Shifting around wildly, Springy grit his teeth, scowling at the utter nothingness of the beyond, the junk of an android still sticking by his side.
It's dark and yet too bright at the same time, his jumping steps echoed throughout the plane and yet deafened against the murky ink-black ground all in one. Every sensation was heightened and dulled, and it made their skin prickle with every nerve set ablaze.
A three-tone chime rang out, and the area lit up even brighter, and suddenly, everything was gone once more.
Was he forgotten about? Ha! What irony… Brought back from obsolescence just to die and experience it all over again…!
The robot clung to him still stayed silent, staring blankly into the distance.
“Nothing to say, Bot?” Springy sneered, trying to shake them off. “You ruin my life, and now you haunt my afterlife. Of course…”
“Not… My… Name…”
Springy huffed, brow twitching in annoyance. “Your name is what you are. You are Bot, you are exactly them.”
“What… About… You… Springy…”
Springy halted, annoyed defense faltering. “What do you mean?”
“You go… By… Your stage… Name.”
“That's different!” Springy objected, jabbing a finger to the robot. “You're Bot because that's who you've always been!” He yelled, then turned his thumb to himself. “I'm Springy because that's all that everyone knows!”
The droid doesn't humor him with a response this time, just slowly turning their always-wide open eyes upon their creator, body whirring with the effort.
“I don't understand your point…” Springy grumbled, tearing his gaze away so those sparkling fake eyes don't meet his own.
“You… Could be… Some…thing… Else…”
The robot finally let go, walking away.
“W-wait…!” Springy yelped, hopping along. “What do you mean? What do you mean?!” He yelled, growing more frustrated at the lack of any answers.
They slowly turn to Springy, meeting his eye finally.
He gets no response before he's thrust back onto Earth. Back to where he was, scrounging around in a city alleyway, surrounded by filth and grime as he tried to find scraps to work with. A poor place to die, although it would reflect his life quite aptly…
He's gasping for air, then looked at his watch, seeing that about an hour had passed. He really was forgotten… Nobody got him any help, if they even saw him.
It was too late to change now…
What a weird dream.