Chapter Text
And then they slipped.
Down into the depths of the sawblade ocean. Where no one can find them. They didn't gasp or scream. It was useless. They knew that.
So what? After all these years of living life as a Meeple company worker, after all these years of service? Isn't death our only gateway anyways? And their life flashed before their eyes. Their first meeting with Lightbulb. Hating her. Hating that stupid face, her stupid face they grew to love. That stupid face who couldn't do anything right. It's funny, how the careful one dies first, isn't it... at least Lightbulb is still alive...
She doesn't even know they're dying right now, probably...
A faint whirr snapped them out of it as they continued to fall. No wonder no one ever liked cleaning this place, it was so infinitely big. What were they even crushing down here? And what was that whirr-
Oh God.
The sawblades above started to spin, faster and faster. This was it. This was the end. And eventually, they caught up. Pain, exploding pain. Blood stained the blades above, their blood, the blood they couldn't smell for the metallic air already was too much to handle. It all stopped when they landed. The ground beneath clinked and moved, almost like a pile. A pile of robotic rejects. How... How could they possibly be alive? Those sawblades should've killed them. Suppose the blades up above are the strongest. They looked up above them, barely any of that sweet, sweet, artificial light peeking through the spinning sawblades… what now? Looking around them, they saw… so many bodies. Detached arms and legs, faces mangled and torn.
Whatever, it was time to leave. There should be stairs somewhere, this has got to have happened before. Tracing the walls and floors for any sign of an escape proved useless however. Great, just great. They couldn’t reach the way they came, the ceiling was too high. So they sat. And waited.
A security camera lay in the corner of the room. They stared at it. It was on, but if anyone saw them would they even try to rescue them? Who would even be on cameras tomorrow? Who would have to see… this?
Minutes passed into hours. And hours into who knows how long. They grew hungry after ages of waiting. Days passed. They were starving, thirsty. And eventually they began to cough. The dust in here was horrible, from all of those discarded things. Gross. And eventually they grew tired. Not from exhaustion. From… something else. Their breaths grew laboured, becoming shallow and hard to complete. Their limbs were so much weaker than what that perfect Painty they were mere days ago was… and their heart rate grew desperate. Amongst all of the sudden overwhelming weakness, pathetic mess they were…
”L-light… bulb…”
And the world went dark.