Chapter Text
“N-no… K-Kris… Ralsei… wake up,” Kris’ purple team member rasps, scarcely conscious on the tracks.
To a degree, Spamton does feel for the Lightner. While it’s invigorating to be able to let loose so much power, he wished things didn’t have to devolve into this violence either. That being said, this salesman has had enough. After all of the torture, the agonizing nights, and pain he has had to suffer these years, Spamton can’t handle another minute on that damn cat’s leash. He refuses to remain a pawn for someone else’s gain.
“SORRY, [Business] IS [Business], [Grapefruit flavor!],” Spamton responds, aiming and shooting one last energy orb from his cannon. Spamton barely spots the girl’s fearful gaze before the attack manages to knock her back into a wall. She tumbles to the floor, unmoving, axe clattering to the floor.
Spamton can feel the battle is over, the vague vision of symbols and numbers washing away. The new sight is an odd feeling with NEO in his possession, he isn’t sure what to make of it all yet. On more important matters…
His eyes dart to the unconscious figure of Kris still on the train tracks. Hovering over, the green, annoying strings in his way, the large body impatiently grabs Kris into one of his large hands.
“NOW WHERE IS THAT [[HeartShapedObject]] YOU HAVE KRIS?” the large Darkner chuckles lowly, turning Kris different ways in his hold as he narrows his eyes. The Lightener flops in his grip, much like a doll. Ironic.
The moment the Darkner spots the red outline of the familiar object, Spamton reaches for it with his other hand. Wrapping his fingers around the heart, each of its’ heartbeats starts to send a thrill through his own body. He’s so close. So close to freedom.
“COME TO [MAMA], HAHEHEAHAHE.”
There’s a heavy tug as Spamton starts pulling. That thing is definitely wedged in there. Stubborn thing. He simply pulls harder, the object finally somewhat budging.
Consider him surprised as the Darkner feels something clinging onto his wrist. He momentarily stops his yanking to glance down. Kris’ hands are holding onto him, trembling. For a brief moment the large puppet wonders how the Lightner can still be conscious, but the thought is quickly dismissed.
“KRIS. DO ME A FAVOR AND [Let’s go!],” Spamton snarls, or tries anyhow with his lack of voice regulation. Kris’ hands only hold on tighter, digging into NEO’s wires with their nails.
Spamton had hoped Kris wouldn’t be awake for this.
…Oh well.
The Darkner starts to pull again, harder than before. The object begins to inch out of Kris’ body, waves of energy pulsing out from the soul. There’s a sudden, loud, pinching noise. Oh. Kris is screaming. Spamton should hurry up before someone hears.
The Darkner takes a deep, shuddering breath. So close! So close!
With one more yank, the heart finally goes free. The object vibrates in his fist and Spamton makes sure to hold onto it tightly. He isn’t going to let go now.
Kris’ voice meanwhile goes silent, their entire body shaking before toppling forward in his hold. Their grip on Spamton Neo’s arm loosens.
The large puppet looks down at the soul before swiftly shoving it into his own chest without another thought. A wave of immense power engulfs him as the soul takes its place, a shiver running down his spine.
His soft chuckle quickly changes into maniacal laughter.
“FINALLY. NOW THAT I’M A [[BIG SHOT]]. THESE [Silly Strings] CAN HOLD ME NO MORE!!!” Spamton shouts, yanking and tearing the green threats tied to his arms, his back, his head, all of them need to go.
Euphoria hits the Darkner the moment no more strings can be seen. He’s free. He’s free! No more cat. No more mysterious man. No one to control him. No one to tell him what to do, how to act. After all of these years… He’s free!!!
“I’m…” Spamton begins to say.
Then, there’s suddenly a weird sensation rooting into his core. Spamton tries to move his head to look down to it… but his head doesn’t turn.
“W-what-?” the Darkner mutters in a panic. He tries to move his arms or legs. They’re not moving. Nothing is moving. Nothing is moving. Why is nothing moving?!?
His body suddenly straightens and terror manifests into Spamton’s whole being. What is going on? What is happening?
Seconds pass before Spamton watches in absolute horror as his body moves on its own. Kris’ now unmoving body, still in his hand, is gently placed down onto the track beside the goat-like Darkner. Then, Spamton watches through his own eyes as he looks down at his own hands, flexing them as if seeing them for the first time.
What is happening?? What-
His body starts to walk a few hesitant steps. His head turns to watch his wings pull in and out, then the cannon on his arm manifest and demanifest.
It’s almost like someone is… No. No no no No NO NO NO.
This- This can’t be happening!!!
He didn’t do all of this just to be controlled by someone else again!! It had been bad enough to be a puppet for his damn benefactors, but they never took full control. They never moved his limbs for him. Took his body fully from him. As limited as his action were, Spamton had only been heavily suggested what to do. Not full on stripped of all autonomy.
Spamton tries again to move anything on his own while this unknown entity looks over his body, but the most he gets is a tremble.
Things have turned from what Spamton thought had been a nightmare to an actual nightmare.
Ha. Of course this would happen to him.
Out of all of the people, it had to be him that ends up with this. Is this what he deserved after treating his family badly? For dismissing Blue, Pink, Orange, and Yellow? For making Tenna think Spamton was some Big Shot even though he never was? For signing the Cathode's contract, breaking his benefactor's deal?
Spamton had blamed all of his shortcomings these last years on Tenna, but… Tenna never even knew about Spamton's deal. He hadn't known what Tenna's contract would do to him. How could he, when Spamton couldn't mention it to him? As his own consequences are shown to him, Spamton knows he doesn't truly blame the man. Not really.
The face of the TV head enters his mind. The way his smile always softened every time he looked in Spamton's direction. Spamton knows that's long gone. Tenna will never look at him that way again, even if he ever did see the Lord of Screens again. Probably despises Spamton more than anything in the world. Especially now, what would the man think of him? Spamton had run out on him and now he had stolen Kris' soul for his own benefit, the kid Tenna has seen as family.
The Darkner can't help but feel sorry for himself. After all of this time, hasn’t he suffered enough?!
First the salesman wasn't good enough for his family, then slaved through the highest moments in his life, had to live through the pain of burning in acid only to then be abandoned to live in the garbage, and then to have to live every day with the reminder that his body and sanity are being stripped from him. And now he doesn't even- He can’t even- This is not- This is not what he wants. This is not-
Only now does Spamton spot something bright out of the corner of his eye. As his entire body turns to it, he’s faced with an entirely new terror in front of him: Above him, floating in darkness, is a large rectangular glowing screen, and inside that screen… there’s a dark silhouette. The form looks like the upper half of a body, but he can’t make out any details. The silhouette moves, its head tilting to one side, seemingly perplexed.
The gears in Spamton’s head turn a moment.
Heaven…?
Is this… the angel?
His body tenses as the Darkner feels a touch on his cheek- its his own hand wiping away tears- Whose- Oh, he’s been- He hadn’t realized he had been crying.
Wait. Are they the one controlling him? And... they're wiping away his tears?
The odd comforting interaction leaves Spamton momentarily at a loss.
“ARE YOU OK@Y, [[Number 1 Rated Salesman1997]]?”
Another burst of shock runs through his entire body as Spamton hears himself speak… at himself? Is- Is the angel trying to speak with him?
The Darkner can hear his own heart hammering in his ears. Is this the higher layer that had been mentioned to him? The connection where supposedly everything in their world stems from? Is this the creator? The angel? When Spamton took the soul’s power, he wasn’t expecting- What does he even do here?
Spamton watches again as the silhouette moves, its head turns to look at something beside it and he spots what seems to be a small ponytail on the back of its head.
A moment later, the silhouette scratches its head before it turns back to face him. The angel looks down at something before Spamton feels NEO’s wings being retracted. Another beat passes as the silhouette busies itself with something.
“[Click me for a free vacation away],” it says as him.
...Huh?
The silhouette shakes its head before looking once more downwards.
“LET’5 [away from prying eyes on a late summer evening~].” The silhouette looks frustrated, waving one of its hands around.
“SOM3WHERE [safety guaranteed],” it tries again. Besides the whole having-his-autonomy-entirely-revoked-from-him, if Spamton could, he would be laughing his ass off right about now. Seeing a higher entity struggle with his speech impediment wasn’t exactly on his bingo card today. It certainly helps the panic he still feels lessen, though.
The mechanical noises of the NEO suit echo in the emptiness of the area as Spamton’s body starts walking again, rather clumsily. They walk away from the unconscious Lightners and Darkner, towards what Spamton can only assume is the angel’s definition of a “safe” place. Which, given they are still in Queen’s basement, is practically nowhere really. Spamton had smuggled himself into the mansion via the Disk, but now that he has NEO, there is no way someone isn't going to spot his current tall self once they leave this place.
Not like he can communicate his thoughts with the angel anyhow.
As they ungainly walk up the stairs from the basement, his body halts in its walk. Spamton can’t see the screen from this angle, but given the long pause, the angel must be thinking through something. After a full minute passed, standing there like a statue, Spamton is starting to feel more annoyance than fear. What’s taking them so long? What are they-
Without prompt, Spamton is knocked off of his feet as one of his connected Spamhearts catapults out of his chest and smacks him right in the face. He flails, falling backwards and proceeds to tumble down a few steps of the stairs. Lucky for him, they hadn’t made it far up the staircase because are they trying to give him a headconcussion?! His gears whir as he lays with his legs half on the steps and back splattered on the floor.
“S-[Sorry won’t cut it],” it says, “MORE [[Button]] THAN USUAL. [Overwhelming selection, folks!]”
…Buttons? The confusion seems to show in Spamotn’s eyes because his body starts talking again.
“WITH KRIS, [Lesser is better!] [Choice].”
This only leaves Spamton with more questions than answers. Did that mean the angel has something like a control panel for his body and… it’s different from Kris? Then, were they fully controlling Kris like this before, too? He knows that his benefactor said Kris’ soul is tied to heaven and the angel, but he never mentioned that it was controlling the kid this entire time. He’s not sure what to think.
“[We’ll be right back after the break!]”
Spamton proceeds to watch the next few minutes as different pieces of the NEO suit get activated while he’s still half-splayed on the floor. Spamton-heads, small Spamcarts, and Pipis fly everywhere. One of the Pipis almost explodes on his face. ’Watch the [Merchandise]’ is what he would say if he could. He hopes his scowl makes itself clear on his face.
Spamton thinks back to when he had stalked Kris in Cyber City. All the times Kris had done stupid things, such as flirting with enemies, dodging in terrible ways, or almost getting hit by a car. If this angel was controlling all of those actions, then that was starting to make a lot more sense.
Great. Stuck with what must be the most powerful being, only to find out they don’t know what they’re doing.
The Darkner is yanked out of his annoyance as he feels the NEO suit shift in a way he hadn’t before. Within seconds, mechanical clacking and clicking fills the air. His eyes look down to see his limbs shrinking, feeling his head compress down as the suit adjusts itself to a new, smaller size. Its purple, yellow, and pink plates shift into recognizable black and white patterns.
That’s… new.
While it’s still NEO, the way the black and white colors are arranged… Spamton kind of looks like he does without the mechanical suit. In fact, if he didn’t know any better, it looks exactly as it would normally, his regular black suit and all, except for the new shiny gloss. It’s rather uncanny.
The angel makes him finally stand up. Given the distance to the floor, his body looks to be his actual height, too.
The Darkner looks up right as the silhouette of the angel fistpumps the air, clearly excited to get it to work. The angel might not know what they’re doing… but hey, Spamton has to admit they at least seem to have good intentions. That's good at least, right?
“-don’t know where he went... Why though, Ralsei? Besides beating our asses, he didn’t really do anything else?”
Both, his body and the angel’s silhouette, tense at the voice coming from down the tracks. It was Kris’ purple dinosaur friend speaking, clearly exhausted and strained. Comparatively, the next voice seems hectic and in a panic.
“S-Susie, W-we need to find him! He took- took- He took- Kris’ soul! Without it we can’t-”
Before Spamton can process what is happening, his tiny body does a 180 to rush up the steps, smoother than before. Clearly the angel and him had the same intention of not interacting with the Lightners any further. Good.
Now all they have to do is get out of here. Maybe then Spamton can make some sense of what is going on.