Chapter Text
Lights flickered and machinery whirled as the shelter doors rumbled open. Even after all this time, and the faint specks of decay and rust chipping at the metal, it still powered through. A faint beam of sunlight shined through the access pipe, rustling him from his slumber. Another day to spend wondering what could’ve been. After all this time, he’s still here.
His first memories came from inside a test tube, wires running out of his body as he floated, suspended in perpetual observation and study. Pulsing and clicking and swirling as he tried to make sense of where he was. His own body was foreign to him.
He drifted back off shortly after, unsure of whether he was simply caught in a long dream or not.
Next thing he knew, he was outside, resting on a cold metallic floor. Struggling to stand, his blurry vision revealed a figure floating above him. Yellow skin and a deep purple cloak, flipping between screens oblivious to his existence. Not that it mattered, for his objective had been programmed into his brain.
He was a courier, a messenger. This was all he was.
The yellow thing barely ever spoke to him, and when it did, it was a constant stream of garbled noises and static, so loud that it hurt his ears. Sometimes, it would resort to using gestures to get its point across, usually in the form of clarifying what it meant. He was left on his own to discover how to fend for himself, growing spears out of his tail to feed on live prey. The process was initially uncomfortable, as his tail throbbed after only a few successful tries. But it was something he was forced to adapt to, as was a running theme with his meager existence.
The world did him no favors, as not long after he just got used to his own body, he was sent out. Since his first cycles, all he knew was his mission. Deliver his message to Five Pebbles, then return home. But the road to the distant iterator was long and treacherous, and the purple slugcat experienced firsthand the harshness of life and the bitterness of death. Spiky claws, gnashing teeth, the nimble hunter was no more than food ripe for the slaughter out here.
He had no choice but to push his way through. Failure was not an option. He couldn’t give up his mission. He didn’t even know what he was delivering, only that it had to be done.
In due time, he crawled his way into the facility of Five Pebbles, scampering up its legs and through the inside, an experience much like his own home, his own creator. A being he didn’t even know the name of, and didn’t need to. All he had to know was his mission.
Dutifully, he fulfilled his role, coming into his chamber and meeting another floating god, pink with orange robes. His speech was also muddled, incoherent, but at the very least it seemed pleased at his presence. A little red thing popped up beside it, perhaps sent out by his creator, ensuring the delivery went smoothly.
Before he knew it, he was placed under slumber once again.
Awakening on the floor of his chamber, his chest felt strangely numb to the touch. Looking up to the pink figure, he saw a golden pearl floating over its hands. That’s when he realized his mission, to deliver this pearl that seemingly came from inside him, if the stitch marks over his chest were any indication. It felt strange to say the least, but the pink thing known as Five Pebbles seemed thankful for his gift, and he was soon escorted out.
From there, he made the journey home stronger than ever, and completed his mission upon returning to the domain of his creator. For several cycles after, he merely existed. Sealed away inside one of the many lab spaces, he sat around waiting for his next objective. He was given food to avoid starving, and surely his creator would promise him with another important task. That was his whole purpose, after all.
Boredom was a strange concept to the purple slugcat as he waited. With no directive, he found himself making his own. He ran around and around the small space, if anything to get his body moving. He fiddled around with the few other objects found in his room, small lab equipment that seemed precious to the touch. Most of all, he used his spears to make the day crawl by faster. It wasn’t long before the walls were covered in spikes.
However, as he dragged one across the floor, he noted how it left behind a small mark. Following nothing but sheer curiosity, he made another next to it, eventually forming a small square in the ground. He didn’t know why, but something in him compelled him to continue. It wasn’t accomplishing any goal or assignment set out by his creator, but he couldn't stop himself. Before long, he’d scribbled a crude drawing of himself.
For some strange reason, looking at it filled him with glee. Perhaps then he began to realize that there was more to living than carrying out his mission.
Eventually, another did come, as he was summoned into the central chamber with urgent haste. Five Pebbles was unresponsive, and his neighbor Looks to the Moon was in critical condition. Action needed to be taken, and for the purple slugcat, it meant another expedition into the world. Finally given purpose once more, he eagerly allowed another pearl to be sealed inside of his chest, and was prepped to leave. Looking back now, he saw just how frantic his creator was during the whole ordeal. It seemed he cared much more about Pebbles than his own creation.
Following the route the second time was much easier, and with all the time spent turning the walls into target practice, his aim was sharper than ever. In record time, he came inside the territory of the silent god, locked away in his own bubble trying to parse through the message he himself delivered. Knowing how careful he was last time, he was more than trusting that this delivery would go smoothly.
How terribly wrong he was.
As the purple slugcat laid on the floor, blood pouring out of his chest as he struggled to stay conscious, he felt his entire world shatter around him. His creator couldn’t help anymore, the overseer having been destroyed by the furious pink thing, who barely resembled the compassionate spirit he was before. Looking up at it, he felt something new for the first time.
Pure, genuine, hate.
Thrown out before he could even realize what was happening, he swam and crawled his way back to safety, the pearl clutched tightly in his paw. As the gravity returned to the world, he didn’t even have the energy to make it back to the shelter. His legs were weak, his head was fuzzy, and he was losing so much blood. Collapsing on the floor with the pearl still held close, he felt darkness overtake his eyes.
Perhaps only through his accelerated healing did he survive the night, as he awoke where he laid before. Still, he remained weak, as the gaping hole still ate through his chest. Wrapping himself in the shell of a popcorn plant, he spent the next few cycles recovering his strength. When he wasn’t busy focusing on finding food, he instead thought about what to do.
For the first time, he was left lost, helplessly confused on where to go next. He could make the journey back to his creator, but that would mean failing his mission. Death was preferable to any shame he would feel. But without any means to “succeed” at his task, the purple slugcat could only rack his mind.
With no other options, he turned towards the other iterator in the area, hoping for guidance on what to do. With the pearl in paw, he climbed up through the crumbling breakers of Looks to the Moon, wincing as his body ached trying to keep up.
He hoped to find clarity on his mission.
Instead, as he was bestowed the Mark of Communication, he suddenly opened his eyes to his true nature.
Sympathy for the fate of the poor iterator.
Confusion over his creator’s intentions.
He was no longer some blind animal following orders.
He was…
He didn’t know what he was.
He had no name, and didn’t even know the name of the one who made him.
Why was he forced to run around like this?
A guinea pig as his heart was ripped out from his chest?
For the first time, the purple slugcat acted on his own accord. Disregarding what his creator would think, he followed his own mission. Using the pearl, he carried it out and delivered Moon’s final message, coming to terms with himself in the process. No longer would he be programmed to follow orders. He would carve his own path.
Returning home, he found himself expressing his distaste towards his creator. For the first time, he could actually understand his words, and the yellow iterator quickly realized this.
“Ah, I see Moon must’ve given you the Mark…”
Yet with no way to speak back, the purple slugcat merely stomped his feet in protest.
“I… hadn’t anticipated this.”
Coming down to his level, the yellow iterator sat on the floor with him.
“You might already know this, but you were not the first of my subjects.”
“You are the seventh. The others never even opened their eyes.”
“I’ll admit, I initially saw you as nothing more than a means to an end. A method to carry out my tasks and provide service to others.”
“But… in watching your travels… I realized something quite peculiar.”
“I began to grow attached to you.”
“I saw you as more than a vessel, but as a companion.”
Suddenly, the towering god before him no longer appeared as formidable, shrinking into his shoulders as his whole plan collapsed around him.
“When… Five Pebbles destroyed my overseer, I was left completely clueless on what was happening to you.”
“I was… terrified. I feared for your safety.”
“I thought you were gone for good.”
“...”
“But seeing you here now, I can’t hide how happy I am that you made it back.”
“I hope you can forgive me for these terrible circumstances.”
The anger inside him still boiled as he watched his creator humble himself, but he couldn't deny his pity. For the longest time, he was nothing more than a simple animal. What would he even do now with the sentience given to him?
“Here.” The yellow iterator held out its hand. “I never told you my name, did I? I am Seven Red Suns, your creator.”
“You merely existed as ‘Messenger’ in my eyes before. But for braving this perilous mission and returning to tell the tale, a more fitting name is suited for you.”
“Welcome home, Spearmaster.”
For a time, the purple slugcat remained in close proximity to Sun’s structure, occasionally tending to whatever tasks the iterator had in store for him. No longer was he required to ferry pearls sealed in his stomach, and he was often given plenty of time to venture out into the exterior of Sun’s facility. For the first time, he was given freewill on what to do.
Yet he never strayed too far from his home, mostly because he had nowhere else to go. Suns had promised to take care of him, hoping to repay some of the neglect he’d caused before. No matter how stressed out Suns seemed to be about everything, he always made sure to accommodate for him. Food was always plentiful around his can, and the purple slugcat eventually grew to appreciate the company of his creator, no, his father.
Some resentment still remained, like how he wasn’t given the mark by him before setting out, or how callously he used to act. But over time, Spearmaster learned to forgive him, and enjoyed the coming days in peace.
But then, one cycle, a thundering ripple shook the earth.
A god has breathed its last.
Looks to the Moon was gone.
Suns was inconsolable for cycles on end afterwards. No matter what he tried to help comfort him, it wasn’t enough. There was nothing to be done.
But hope was not yet lost, as another iterator had been on the move to provide aid in her time of need. As the days went on, one face stuck out more than the others, frequently showing up in video calls and message threads. No Significant Harassment, as they called themselves, had already started work on developing their own messenger long before. Using schematics sent over by Suns, progress was slow, but steady, as pictures showed a little form floating in a stasis pod, a scene much like Spearmaster’s own upbringing.
It was almost like he was looking into his own memories.
After the collapse, their work tripled, spending countless hours developing their creation to be suitable for travel. It seemed this green iterator had learned the lessons from Suns, having given their specimen the mark as well as ensuring it would be well kept when it awoke. It even already had a name; Hunter.
But an iterator can only do so much to help raise a hardened fighter, as Sig and Suns spent their days speaking over how to best approach the situation. In all likelihood, this would be their only shot, so they would have to make the most of it.
Before long, Sig had proposed an interesting idea.
“Hey, why don’t you send over your little fellow and have it watch over mine for a bit?”
“You mean Spearmaster?”
“Yeah, it’s got plenty of experience running around Moon’s facility, if it was able to survive then it should be plenty capable of showing it the ropes.”
“I’m unsure how well it will fare, it’s never interacted with another of its species before.”
“It’s not like these are wild critters we got here, with two purposed organisms, they should at least refrain from killing each other. It needs time to develop while I tune up the payload anyways.”
“Well… I’ll have to ask them about it.”
“C’mon Suns, I’m sure it’ll love the idea!”
Sure enough, when Seven Red Suns proposed the concept, Spearmaster was beside himself. After all this time, another chance to venture outside, and to meet another slugcat? If it was to ultimately help Moon, he wouldn’t mind doing a little babysitting.
So, he hastily set off towards No Significant Harassment, with a little red overseer trailing close behind. The journey was comparatively shorter compared to the trek to Pebbles, so much so that he could see the can in the distance even right as he crossed past the boundary of Suns’ facility. More energetic than ever, the purple slugcat dashed as fast as he could towards his new objective, even as he felt the weight of time slowly creeping in.
In due time, he arrived and scaled the noticeably taller leg of Sig’s can. Being a later model, their structure was more compact than Suns’, trading width for height as it stretched through the clouds. It reminded him of Pebbles’ layout, as opposed to the older cans of Suns and Moon, whose bulkier frames had them taking up more space.
Spearmaster wasn’t sure what to expect from the enigmatic iterator, but as he fell into their chamber, the last thing he envisioned was overwhelming awe.
“You’re here! Welcome, welcome!” Sig cheerfully floated down to the ground, and as they stood it became clear their puppet was also proportionally tall compared to their structure. If they and Suns stood side by side, Sig would probably tower over their contemporary.
“I must say, seeing you in person only makes you more extraordinary!” They fawned over him as they looked all around his body, only fueling his discomfort. “The ability to grow spears from your tail, perhaps that is why he calls you Spearmaster, eh?” Hiding his thick, spotted tail from peeping eyes, he wanted nothing more than to leave his chamber as soon as possible.
“Ah yes, you must be wondering about our little friend!” With a flick of their wrist, a live video feed materialized in the air, showing a small containment cell holding a little red slugcat. Judging by the scratches on the walls, it was clear that it wasn’t exactly thrilled about its confinement.
“Let’s just say Hunter can be a bit… feisty sometimes.” Sig teased as they watched it scamper around. “But it shouldn’t be anything you can’t handle, just try and teach him how to fight, or some slugcat mannerisms or something. If you need anything, just wave over at the overseer and I’ll help you out, okay?”
With a sigh, Spearmaster accepted his task and made his way through the memory conflux and towards his new protege.
Hopefully he can actually focus.
Dropping into the sealed chamber, the red slugcat flinched at the sight of someone new. Instinctively, he crouched down and bore his long fangs and sharp claws, itching for a fight. In a panic, Spearmaster threw up his arms to ensure he didn’t mean any harm.
“Who are you?” Hunter’s raspy voice echoed off the walls, almost as if he wasn’t used to speaking. If anything, he at least recognized that Spearmaster was a fellow slugcat, and their artificial nature allowed them to understand each other.
However, he was very quickly faced with a big problem. The one before him had a mouth, which meant it could talk and consume food like any other living creature. Spearmaster did not, a fact that while he initially loathed Suns for not giving him, he’d since grown to accept as a part of him. Over time, they were able to master a language of signs and gestures using hands and paws to communicate effectively enough, so any barrier was already broken.
Hunter, on the other paw, was only just born a couple cycles ago, and was barely adjusting to standing on his feet. Despite having undergone accelerated aging, he still acted much like a pup, if his quick defensive nature wasn’t any indication enough. Now, he was faced with a stranger who couldn’t even talk back to him, and his glaring green eyes sent a cold shiver down Spearmaster’s spine.
Quickly, he pointed to his lack of a mouth and closed his eyes, bracing for impact. Thankfully, the red slugcat seemed to realize, and relented, though only slightly, and he still remained tucked away in the corner.
“Can’t talk, huh?”
He speaks much like his creator.
An idea sparking in his mind, Spearmaster went to grow a spine from his tail. He made sure to be as pensive as possible, so as to not give Hunter the wrong idea. Still, he watched intently as he plucked the spear from his tail and began to scribble symbols on the floor. Slowly, Hunter walked over towards him, trying to parse together what he wrote. Despite trying his best, the red one was unable to decipher any meaning from what he wrote, which was simply the name given to him.
With a silent groan, Spearmaster waved over to the overseer peeking in, and soon enough they were both summoned to their chamber.
“Seems like we have a little communication issue on our hands, huh.” Sig flipped through some old texts while they spoke. “You and Suns know signs, right?” With a nod, Spearmaster’s eyes lit up.
“Well here, let me help you two out.” Coming down once again between them, No Significant Harassment lived up to their name, as their loud voice annoyed the two slugcats. “Hunter, this is Spearmaster. He’s going to teach you how to fight and survive out there.”
Still remaining untrusting, Hunter merely let out an agitated huff in response.
“But first, we should go over making sure you two can actually speak to one another.” Pulling up a long list of words and pictures, they ran down the list as Spearmaster did his best to guide Hunter along. To his credit, the red slugcat was a fast learner, quickly copying his paw movements with surprising ease.
Perhaps that’s attributed to his enhanced nature.
He’s like a better version of me.
Sig only had time to teach them basic words and phrases, not wanting to waste time going over more nuanced terminology. Before long, they were back in the cell, something that once again bothered Spearmaster.
Just because his mission is important doesn’t mean he should be neglected.
So, when time was available, he took it upon himself to teach Hunter more of their language. Thankfully, it appeared the red slugcat was quite receptive of his teachings, especially as they got to work on combat training. A makeshift target was set up against the far wall, and using his white spines, Hunter had plenty of ammo to test his aim. While his mark wasn’t as strong as his own, he still hit more often than he missed, and was quickly improving.
Before long, they were out together hunting for food, giving Hunter experience in handling live prey. A duo of green lizards made the perfect first test for the young ruffian, who threw himself into battle without hesitation. His movements were effortless, swiftly dodging attacks and striking at their weaknesses. A true hunter in every sense of the word.
When it was all said and done, the two lizards laid dead on the ground, the former being ripped apart as Hunter feasted on its remains, and the latter riddled with spines as Spearmaster sucked its nutrients dry.
So barbaric…
Watching him tear flesh through his teeth as blood dripped from his mouth made him sick, as Spearmaster forced himself to look away while he ate. Of course, the same could be said for his own method of feeding, siphoning directly through his spines.
“You eat like that?” Hunter looked puzzled as he watched with a hunk of meat in his paw.
“Yes, now quit staring.” Spearmaster signed back, and thankfully Hunter had half a mind to listen, as he went back to scarfing down a pound of flesh.
With the pressure on, Spearmaster got to work rigorously training the young slugcat. Time was of the essence, and every extra cycle spent was another moment Moon was left to rot away. They both understood their purpose, as Hunter had the mission drilled into his mind from his birth. This was who he was, and Spearmaster was going to see fit that he would succeed.
The cycles passed, and Hunter's combat abilities quickly grew with it. Now he could handle entire lizard packs by himself, leaving Spearmaster astonished. As he grew stronger, their bond grew with it, as the purple slugcat recounted his adventures to an amazed Hunter. Little by little, they became more than mentor and student. For the first time, Spearmaster had a friend, and Hunter had someone to look up to.
They sparred together often, the experienced purple slugcat easily beating Hunter at first. Over time though, he got stronger, faster, deadlier. One swift swipe of his tail had Spearmaster fall to his knees, bested by his disciple.
“Not bad, Hunter.”
“Thanks, can’t Sig just send me out already?” Hunter was itching to be set loose, feeling he was ready to tackle whatever came before him. The iterator was busy putting the final touches on his payload, a shining green neuron packed full of slag keys, hopefully enough to bring Moon back from total shutdown.
But there was something else he saw in the red ruffian’s eyes, and that was his growing hubris. A long time ago, he felt the same way, confident that nothing could slow him down. The scar on his chest remained a permanent reminder of how mortal he really was.
The night before he was to depart, Spearmaster sat his student down and gave him a clear heart to heart.
“Listen, it’s dangerous out there.” He signed. “At every turn you’ll have obstacles trying to slow you down, and the rain will pummel you if you’re not careful.”
“Relax, Spears.” Hunter chuckled back. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“Hunter, I’m serious.” Putting a paw on his shoulder, Spearmaster reflected on just how close he’d grown to this little rascal. Perhaps this is how Suns felt watching him venture out all those cycles ago. Above all else, he couldn’t bear to watch him suffer. He’d go if he could, but Hunter had already turned down the offer.
He said I’d slow him down.
That arrogant…
“You will be sliced apart, beaten down, and cracked open if you’re not careful.” Remembering the pain of his previous deaths, he wished that none of that should fall to his new friend. “Focus solely on your mission, and make sure you get back here as safely as possible.”
“Spears.” Hunter took his paw and smiled. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”
The next day, Hunter stood tall. Neuron and pearl was safely stored away in their stomach, thankfully not requiring surgery to remove. With one last hug, the red slugcat parted ways towards his destiny.
“Thanks for everything, Spearmaster!” He shouted back. “I’ll be home soon!”
So much optimism behind those eyes…
Soon after, Spearmaster departed to return home to Suns. His presence was frequently needed after all, to help maintain the integrity of his structure. Yet through his travels, all he could think about was that little red ruffian, and all the worries that came with it.
He’s headstrong, just like I was.
Hopefully his pride doesn’t lead to his downfall.
Please, please be safe out there.
Even after he came back home, the purple slugcat still found himself frequently checking in on his progress, as Suns would converse with Sig about Hunter’s status. The journey from Sig’s can to Pebbles' was even further than from Suns’ so it took many cycles for Hunter to finally reach the facility grounds. From the pictures sent over, he’d gathered a fair collection of scratches and scars, but he was otherwise doing fine. Small bumps on his back made Spearmaster skeptical, but it was quickly dismissed.
At long last, he could breathe a sigh of relief. Hunter could complete his mission, and soon enough they would have plenty of time to share their stories together.
And as he rustled himself awake inside the large shelter, he sprang to his feet and rushed down towards Suns’ chamber, eager for an update on his location.
Yet as he dropped inside, he found the iterator was buried deep in text, files upon files with Sig panicking beside him.
“I don’t know what happened, my overseer is looking everywhere!”
“You haven’t heard any activity from Pebbles?”
“No, his facility is still on lockdown.”
A frustrated yell crackled through their small window.
“Sig, it’s okay. I’m sure he’s fine.”
“Fine?! He’s our only hope, I can’t lose that neuron!”
Suddenly, Suns felt a tug on his robe, as he turned to see his messenger pleading with him.
“What’s going on?”
Hesitantly, Suns looked away for a moment, as Sig frantically scrambled in the background.
“Hunter’s gone missing.”
A cold sweat ran down as Spearmaster froze.
No…
No, that can’t be!
“What happened, please tell me what happened!” He frantically signed, his heart picking up as the fate of his friend hung in the balance.
“I don’t know, I just… Sig called me and said his overseer couldn’t find him.”
“He was close, he was so close!” Sig rattled on. “C’mon Hunter, where are you?!”
A million possibilities ran through his mind, all the worst outcomes immediately springing to mind.
He got ambushed by lizards?
Paralyzed and left unable to move?
Suffocated in worm grass and lost the payload?
The more he thought about it, the more frightened he grew.
I have to do something!
I’m the only one who can do something!
He needs my help!
Without even thinking, he pushed himself up, the low gravity carrying him towards the access shaft in the ceiling.
“Spearmaster, where are you going?!” Suns shouted below him.
Looking down, the purple slugcat relayed one swift message.
“I’m going to save him, don’t try to stop me.”
And with that, Spearmaster set out on his final expedition.