Chapter Text
When you were little, you always found yourself questioning why people went through most of their lives following a routine that was built for them from the start. Of course, you yourself were going to do one—waking up, going to school, leaving school, going to sleep, and repeat—but you always wondered just why it was a collective idea to follow a path from the start.
Doesn't it ever get boring?
Waking up and expecting a different result each time?
Doing the same thing just to end up at the same spot every time?
Well, perhaps not every time, as you guessed. Sometimes people get different events at different frequencies. Some people are more lucky or unlucky, depending on how many events they have in their lives and whether or not they result in something good or bad.
You'd consider yourself average, seeing most of your life was following a routine but almost never getting anything interesting to happen unless someone else earned it.
It was like a video game, except there were no short quests—just long ones—that you couldn't dedicate your life to reaching for unless you wanted to live your life out as a fast food worker if you failed. The idea of that made you shudder. Not that you hate working at a fast food restaurant.
As you got older, you found yourself losing interest in life. What was the point if the only thing you did was wake up and work in a cycle until you die? Going to school was pointless. Getting a degree was pointless. Getting a job was pointless.
Everything was basically pointless. It served no value.
In fact, you wouldn't have minded it if something happened and it resulted in your death. You didn't tell anyone this though, of course. If you did, people would've assumed the worst of you. Things like:
"Are you alright?"
"Why would you say that?"
"Do you want someone to talk?"
"Are you suicidal?"
You weren't suicidal. You didn't understand how you would ever feel suicidal in the first place.
It's not like you constantly felt like dying or wondered what would happen if you did die; you only felt it sometimes. And it wasn't like you were actually going to go out and buy a gun and then shoot yourself immediately when you got home—you couldn't even buy a gun to begin with.
Sure, you didn't feel like getting up from bed sometimes, or you didn't shower for days and could've gone for weeks had it not been for your mom, but those were normal. Each of them had a completely reasonable reason as to why: Showers take up too much time, especially if you just got home from school or work and sometimes the bed's just too comfortable to get up from.
And as you think about it now, it wasn't like you had a traumatic childhood filled with abuse or neglect that made you suicidal, either. You had the opposite—a mom who would do anything for you and a house that you always felt comfortable in. Except when your dad was home, maybe, but even then, it was easy to avoid him.
But, more often than not, you did find yourself wondering if you were actually suicidal.
Or maybe it was just depression. Who knows? It's not like you could go online and just search a 'am I depressed' quiz to get a medical diagnosis. If you could, the world would've been a much better place for everyone suffering from a mental disorder or something.
Despite everything you've ever thought of—all the questioning, the thoughts, and the decisions—you find yourself doing exactly what you were meant to do in the first place. Following a routine.
You didn't really mind this routine, contrary to everything you had ever thought before. In fact, it was kind of fun with this routine, guessing who was going to participate in the phight today and having to deal with either Subspace or Banhammer threatening to hurt you in some form. In fact, Banhammer didn't come by one time despite being one of the more frequent phighters, and it turned out that he was chasing a group of demons who had somehow managed to escape Banland! The only thing that you thought was a little more annoying than the rest was the fact that you had to meet up with Medkit every week for him to continuously apply some kind of medicine to your horns. When you asked why, he didn't even give you a proper answer—only saying something along the lines of,"I'm not licensed. I need to make sure I didn't chip too much of your horns for you to start dying of internal bleeding."
You did appreciate the fact that the cold saline on your horns was always enough to force you awake during the day, when you couldn't sleep at night because you were out hanging with Boombox or sometimes Shuriken when he wasn't helping in Slingshot's café or getting into trouble.
But as the weeks went on and everything began to fall back into place, you found yourself repeating the same mindset you had as a child (and when you were still a human). The very same smug look on your face whenever you would rile Banhammer up was beginning to feel forced, and the cold saline was beginning to lose its touch; you even found yourself dozing off even when there was music practically blasting in your ears, loud enough to make your ears ring each time a song ended.
You definitely made sure to stay alert whenever Subspace was around, though. There was no way you were going to lower your guard around him.
You sat absentmindedly, waiting patiently for Medkit to get ready. When he turned around to face you, that was your cue. You hummed, leaning forward for the doctor to check your horns.
His hands poked at the empty part of your horns, feeling as if the tissues had not hardened yet. He pulled his hands away, picking up a cotton swab and some sort of medicine.
"Tilt your head up," he instructed.
You followed, lifting your chin up as he rubbed the cotton swab at the tissues. You shivered at the cold, slimy feeling. You were never going to get used to that feeling.
After he thoroughly rubbed the substance in, he placed the two items back down and stepped away, already pulling off his medical gloves. "Alright, you're good to go now."
You lowered your chin, thanking him. You reached in your pocket to take out a couple bux before he frowned, slapping your hand away. You huffed in annoyance, pushing his hand away, but nonetheless backing down. "When are you going to let me pay you back?"
"Never," Medkit answered—too quickly for your liking—turning his back against you. Before you could retort anything back, a phone call interrupted you. Medkit immediately took out his phone, checking the contact before he glanced at you, leaving the room quickly.
You sat at the same spot, swinging your feet slightly while you waited for him to finish. You were used to them, considering Medkit was involved with the church through family ties, they couldn't exactly trust him fully. He had to prove himself, and by doing so, he had to do them favors. Typically, it was either Scythe or Broker calling, so you were already assuming the caller was one of them.
Medkit suddenly entered the room, startling you out of your thoughts. That was new—his phone calls usually take longer than that.
"Scythe wants to talk to you," Medkit explained, holding his phone out to you. You blinked back at him.
Scythe wants to talk to you?
As if he were reading your mind, Medkit grunted, shoving the phone in your hand when you didn't reach for it in time. He left the room again, leaving you alone to take the call. Thinking much of it, you lifted the phone to your ear. After all, Scythe seemed to have taken a liking to you, ever since your first interaction with her.
"Hello?" You spoke.
"Ay, driver boy!" Scythe chirped, her obvious country accent bleeding through her voice. "How you doin'?"
"Oh, I've been doing fine." Despite the fact that she wouldn't be seeing your face, you smiled anyway. "I was doing my weekly checkup with the doctor."
"You can call em Medkit, ya know?" There was a sound of shuffling from her side, making you assume that she might be sitting down somewhere. "It's not like you're doing business with him or anything."
"Sorry, force of habit, I guess," you apologized, your weariness soaking through the tone of your voice unintentionally. "I wasn't sure if he was fine with me calling him by his real name."
"...you sound tired, sweetheart," Scythe pointed out. "Somethin' up?"
"No...no, it's just been a bit tiring doing the same thing for the past week," you assured, pausing for a bit before you quickly added on to your sentence. "But it's not like I hate my job or anything. I just wish there was... something more to it, you know?"
There was a longer pause on the other end of the call before Scythe spoke up again—this time, with the very recognizable tone she always had when she was offering something to someone.
"How about you meet me behind the large, green-bricked apartment at midnight, hm?" Scythe suggested, her tone being sickeningly sweet. "I think we can catch up more there."
"Why not just tell me it over the phone?" You suggested.
"No way, phones have trackers in em," Scythe rejected immediately.
"I don't think they do, actually..."
Scythe huffed. "I'm not taking chances, hon.”
"Alright, alright." You hummed. "I'll see you at midnight?"
"Sounds great," Scythe replied; you could practically feel her grinning. "I'll see ya there then!" With that, the call ended.
You lowered the phone before you got off the table, walking out into Medkit's living room, where he had been sitting the whole time, working on some gear. You handed him his phone back. "Thanks for letting me use it."
"Mhm." He nodded, paying you no mind. You gave him an awkward smile, although you were already used to his attitude towards you.
When you arrived, Scythe was already waiting for you. She heard your footsteps, turning around quickly, her gear summoning on instinct as if she were expecting an enemy. When she realized it was just you, she visibly relaxed, desummoning her gear. "Don't creep up on me like that, hon." She chuckled, greeting you with a two-finger salute. "You might give a gal a heart attack."
"Sorry, didn't want to be too loud," you apologized, smiling politely. "Since we're near an apartment after all."
"Don't worry about it, it's not like there's actually anyone living in em." Scythe shrugged. "Cops had it cleared out of any civilians after somebody died in there."
"What?"
She waved your concerns away. "Ah, don't worry about that. I got something even more important to ask you."
Scythe crossed her arms, lifting her head as she glanced at you, anticipation in her eyes. "How'd you think about taking a quick side gig for me?"
You stared at her, blinking, before you realized what she meant. "Oh, is this about that job offer you gave me?"
"The first ever one, yep."
You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck. "Thank you for the offer, Scythe, but I'm pretty sure I've already said I'm more than fine being where I am currently."
Scythe's smile wavered, turning into a frown. "You got a knack for driving, though; are you really gonna just leave that talent behind to drive mindlessly from one place to another?"
You tilted your head, still not convinced. She hummed, switching tactics.
"Alright," she began. "How about two thousand bux? If that's not enough, we can always up it."
"I don't really see myself needing that much money..."
"Higher position? You'd never know when you need to use those benefits."
"...I think I'm fine being a civilian only."
"Protection?"
"When am I going to need that?"
Scythe just stared at you. You mentally slapped yourself in the head. "Right. Medkit."
"Come on!" Scythe huffed, crossing her arms. "What do I gotta do to convince you to join?"
"I mean, why do you need me to join in the first place?" You asked, a bit creeped out by her persistence.
"I'll tell you if you join."
You stared at her, unamused. Then you sighed, throwing your hands up as an act of surrender. "Fine. But this will be the only time; I don't wanna get in trouble with Zuka."
Scythe grinned, satisfied. "You won't, trust me."
She held out a hand. "We'll shake on it? You can never go wrong with a handshake."
You stared down at her hand before looking back up. Her toothy grin stared back at you. With a small hesitation, you reached up and clasped your hands with hers, shaking and officially accepting the deal.
"Great to be workin' with ya!" Scythe said, grinning wider.
"For only a day."
"For only a day," she repeated, letting go. She turned on her heels before she saluted you again. "Meet me here tomorrow morning again, this time with that old man's car."
"I will," you promised.
When you finally made it home, your phone dinged with a notification. When you pulled your phone out from your pocket, you noticed that it was from Boombox, inviting you over for another party that he was hosting. At the bottom of the text, he added a P.S, hinting that Slingshot and Skateboard were going to be there as well.
If only he knew what your actual opinions were on them.
It wasn't that you hated them, you already clarified that up. You just didn't like the fact that they treated him like a third wheel, especially since Boombox was the one who introduced them to each other in the first place.
You scratched your nape as you typed back a response with your other hand.
Boomboxxer: hey!! wanted to ask u if u wanted to go to thieves den tonight? theyre hosting some sort of phestival over there
Boomboxxer: i finally convinced dom and valk to stop hosting phights to give u a breather for the weekend :))
Boomboxxer: ps sling and skate r gonna be there too if u wanna hang out with em as well!!
You: sorry boom kinda feeling out of it lately :') i might skip out for today
You: you go with sling and skate tho have fun there
Boomboxxer: o yea no probs! ur probably getting tired of all the parties ive been inviting u to go to so it makes sense lolz
Boomboxxer: wanna hang out on the weekends tho?
You: as much as i wanna say yes i kinda promised someone that ill be doing something with them tomorrow
Boomboxxer: ?? who is it?
You: scythe
Immediately, as soon as you answered his question, he called you. You jolted at the loud ring, quickly lowering your volume before you accepted the call, putting the phone near your ear.
"Dudes!! When were you gonna tell me that you were talking with Scythe?!" Boombox cried out into the phone, prompting you to wince in pain at the sheer volume as you pulled the phone away from your ear for a second.
"I didn't think it'd be that big of a deal," you explained, soothing your eardrum. "Also, please don't yell... I already have to deal with Banhammer's volume."
"Sorry, sorry." Boombox apologized, lowering his voice. "It's just that I don't really think you should be hanging around Scythe all that much."
"Hm?" You raised an eyebrow. Your interest was piqued. "How come?"
"It's just..." Boombox's voice trailed off, a loud hum following him as he tried to word it the best he could without possibly offending you or Scythe. "She's not that trustworthy. That cult of hers is a little... sketchy, ya know?"
Your eyes softened as you let out a small sigh, smiling softly. You kind of appreciated the fact that Boombox was looking out for you, considering you were interacting with a serial killer more than you'd like to interact with them. "I didn't accept any offers to join any cults if that's what you're scared of."
There was a slight pause on the other side of the call before Boombox let out a small chuckle. "Well, that wasn't what I was worried about, but I'm glad to know you're not being brainwashed yet."
"Please, it'll take a lot to brainwash me," you bragged.
"Yeah, yeah."
You could feel Boombox rolling his eyes from the other side, prompting you to giggle before your laugh died down. "But seriously, Boombox, I'll be fine. If she tries anything, I can leak her to Banhammer."
"Mmm..." Boombox hummed, still a bit unsure. "I don't know if that'll work. Doesn't Banhammer still hate you?"
"Oh, come on, if he does, then he's the one being childish," you complained, rolling your eyes. "It's been weeks now, there's no way he's still hung up on that."
"I dunno... I'd say to just be careful around him... and Scythe."
"Mmhm, I'll be careful."
"You promise?"
You held in a playful sigh, rolling your eyes. "Yes, I promise."
"Alright then." Boombox backed down, finally satisfied. "See you next time?"
"See you next time," you said. "Bye."
The next day rolled by pretty fast, surprisingly, and before you knew it, you were already on your way to the same spot as last time. Earlier ahead, you ended up calling Zuka, wanting to make sure that there really were no phights. After a bit of shuffling from his side, he ended up telling you that there weren't any announcements from their official website, so you were technically free off of work today.
You pulled up, noticing Scythe was hiding in the shades, glancing at each civilian until she noticed Zuka's car and grinned, skipping over to you. She slid over the roof of the car, smoothly getting into the passenger seat.
"Heya, driver boy! Glad you could make it." She grinned. "Was a bit worried you ditched out on me last second."
"I wouldn't want to anger you anytime soon," you said, earning a laugh.
"Hey now, don't go boosting my ego!" Scythe cackled. She quickly stopped, though, pointing at a direction. "Anyways, start driving over there. We're gonna stop by somewhere around there."
"Alright."
While you were driving, you took notice that you were driving into Blackrock's region. Your grip tightened on the steering wheel as you tried to distract yourself by focusing ahead. Scythe must've noticed anyways because she took out a pack, taking one cigarette out and offering one to you. "Need a cigar to smoke that stress away?"
"No thank you," you politely refused. "I don't like smoking."
"Alright." She shoved the pack back in her pocket, taking out a lighter. She flicked at the spark wheel, placing the white end against the flame, before pulling away when she was sure that it had caught fire. She inhaled the nicotine, the burning part of the cigar lighting up in a mix of orange and red, before she pulled it from her lips, blowing the smoke out of the window.
You stayed silent, slowly taking in the remaining smell of the smoke that came from the cigarette itself. Although you weren't one to smoke anything yourself, you didn't mind the smell at all. It was addictive, except you weren't actively feeding the addiction. Just occasionally taking a quick whiff of the smoke to satisfy it.
As you drove past an alleyway, Scythe suddenly pointed to your left. "Go in there." She instructed, throwing her cigarette out of the window, not even caring to exhaust the flame first. You ignored that bit though, following her directions as you turned the steering wheel and entered the alleyway. When you reached a door, you reached for the gearshift, ready to park the car, before Scythe grabbed your wrist.
"Keep it runnin'," she said. "Just in case we gotta start runnin' immediately."
You were a bit confused, opening your mouth to ask what she meant before the sound of the door opening and closing interrupted you. She had already left the car. You shifted your attention back the road in front of you, frowning. Something about this felt awfully familiar.
While you waited, there was a ding on your phone, prompting you to take a look. It was from Boombox again.
Boomboxxer: why does it say you're in blackrock right now mc?
You: scythe told me to stop here, i dunno what shes gonna do but hopefully its nothing too bad
Boomboxxer: um
Boomboxxer: u do realize that theres been frequent break-ins at-
Before you could finish reading his text, an alarm blared out directly next to you. You flinched, dropping your phone at the gas pedals in the process. Before you could reach down for it, the sound of an explosion followed by, immediately making your ears ring by the sheer volume. You ducked your head, expecting something to fly through the glass.
"What are yer doin?! Hit the gas!" Scythe yelled at you as she slammed herself in the car, throwing whatever she stole at the back. You scrambled for the steering wheel, stepping the gas pedal almost immediately out of sheer instinct. The car zoomed forward, driving away from the alarms and the now clearly burning building behind you.
Your heart was pounding.
What the f*ck was going on?!
You cursed to yourself as you recklessly drove past cars, earning some yelling and cursing back at you, but you didn't hear it. You didn't really care. You just wanted to know what the hell was going on!
Scythe whooped beside you, cheering and encouraging you to drive faster. You opened your mouth in a panic. "Scythe, what the hell did you do?!"
"Just some classic church shenanigans!" Scythe answered, having no care in the world as you nearly crashed into a car, prompting the other driver to swerve into another car. Before you realized it, you inevitably caused a pile up behind you.
Oh, my god.
You were so going to jail.
You swallowed down the spit that was forming in your mouth as you turned a random right, trying to just get away from the numerous crime scenes that you caused.
Suddenly, you felt something pitter against the back of the car. You looked in the rear-view mirror and your heart dropped.
There were biografts following after you. Tens of them. And not just any biografts, they were—
"Beta Biografts?!" Scythe finished for you, grinning even wider. "Now this is a true church shenanigan!" She turned to your panicked state, cackling widely. "You might wanna be careful unless you want Zuka's car to be filled with holes by the end of this chase, driver boy!"
You didn't even want to imagine Zuka's anger, so you just forced down every single unintelligible chaos in your mind and focused on trying to throw those terrifyingly looking—oh my god, there's literally one right in frONT OF YOU-
You stomped on the brake pedal, turning the steering wheel to the right and roughly turning the car. You heard the betagraft's spikes scrape at the door before you drove straight into an alleyway again. The beta biograft that was acting as a spike strip immediately moved into position, grouping up with the rest as it chased you down the narrow alleyway.
You bit your lower lip, trying to scan for any ways to escape this alleyway. Your mind was racing at a hundred miles per hour, and Scythe's commentary were not helping whatsoever.
"Hey, driver boy! One of em's catching up!" Scythe laughed, turning her whole body around to watch the situation behind you.
"Now's not the time!!" You protested, zooming out into the wide street again as you turned the car to the left, swerving just barely at the edge of the bridge. You drove through the crowd of cars, sneaking a peek at the situation behind you. You felt your heart pump upon realizing that they were no longer close to you.
"Gods, I...!" You panted, letting out a weak laugh.
Suddenly, the sound of a cannon charging up was enough to startle you out of focus. Scythe's eyes widened, realizing exactly what it was before she grabbed the steering wheel and yanked it to the right as far as she could. You felt the force of gravity pulling you to the right, your seatbelt barely holding onto you. Before you could say anything, you watched as the entire left side of the car suddenly lit up purple.
Holy f*cking sh*t, this just took a turn.
You cursed, grabbing the steering wheel as the betagrafts continued to chase after you two.
"What did you even steal?!" You cried out, turning the car to the right again, narrowly avoiding another laser.
"Just some Omega-graft parts!" Scythe responded, summoning her gear now that it was getting serious. "Here, keep driving; I'm gonna try something."
"Now's not the time to try anything!!!" You protested, earning a hush from the serial killer as she crawled over to the bag, grabbing some of the aforementioned parts. She began to play around, clinking together the parts into place, making sure they were held together.
She was reaching for another part when you suddenly turned to your left, flinging her to the ground in the car. "Drive carefully, will ya?!"
"I CAN'T. There's betagrafts chasing us with lasers that can kill us in one hit!" You hissed, noticing that one of them was catching up. As you stepped on the gas pedal harder, you tried to come up with an idea.
"Alright, I'm done. Get ready!!" Scythe yelled out, snapping you back to attention. She reached up for the sunroof.
"Hold on!! I got something!" You warned her. "Hold tightly!"
Scythe blinked, her mind registering your warning, before she snapped to attention and gripped onto the seats. You stepped on the brake, forcing the car to a sudden stop, which forced your face forward, ready to smash your nose against the steering wheel. Thankfully, though, it also prompted the betagraft—who had been flying at you at full speed—to slam into the back of the car, flinging itself backwards from the sheer force and crashing into the rest of them like a bowling ball.
You stepped on the gas pedal again, driving as far as you could before they could recover. As you did so, Scythe whooped again, laughing wildly. "YEAH!! That was so phu*cking AWESOME!!"
You didn't say anything, instead focusing on driving as fast as you can away from the chaos you've managed to spur onto the region, but as you stole a peek from the rear-view mirror, looking at the piled up betagrafts just lying there, you couldn't help but feel the corners of your mouth quirking up in amusem*nt at the sight.
"You were so phu*cking AWESOME!!!" Scythe repeated this when you two were finally safe from being chased down. You hopped out of the car, ready to inspect the damage, before you were tackled into a bear hug, nearly strangling you to death before she released you. You gasped for air, reaching up to massage your throat as she fixed her hat, which had been knocked off her head during the car chase.
"Seriously, it's almost as if you were born to do this!" She praised you, giving you a toothy grin. She was trying to look calm, but you could tell that she was still feeling the adrenaline, seeing how her feet wouldn't stop shifting around and the way her uncovered eye was still wide and active.
You coughed into your fist, your face growing warm at her compliment. You hated to admit it, but that car chase was pretty exhilarating, even if half of the time you were cursing at yourself and Scythe for putting you into that mess.
"Anyways, thanks for your help!" Scythe thanked you, digging in the bag before she threw you something. You caught it with two hands, glancing down at it; it was some sort of makeshift whistle, made out of omega graft parts. "Here's a little somethin' for ya to use if you ever need my help! You earned it."
You beamed slightly, a warm, nuzzling feeling growing in the pits of your stomach, before you watched Scythe look around before disappearing into the shadows, hiding under the radar once again. You stared at the last spot that she was seen at before you blinked, looking at Zuka's car. There were some obvious slashes at the side of the driver's door, but thankfully, it seemed that the betagraft's spikes only skinned the paint off.
You steadily drove back to Crossroads, the recent events still repeating in your mind, when you noticed a gray looking figure standing directly in front. You stopped the car and got out, squinting your eyes to see better.
It was Zuka.
Your eyes widened.
Oh no. Oh no, no, no no no.
If he saw the damage on his car, you were so done. As he walked up to you, you quickly blocked the side with your body, making it seem as if you were leaning against his car. He raised an eyebrow at you, a bit confused at your stance, before he ignored it and then spoke up again. "Were you driving somewhere?"
"I'm sorry," you apologized quickly, redirecting the topic to something less serious than you committing multiple crimes. "I wanted to explore Crossroads for a bit, considering it's such a big city... and I kind of assumed that I wouldn't need to ask for permission."
He studied you for a moment, his eyes practically piercing through your body, as if he had x-ray vision. Sweat began to prick at the back of your neck, prompting you to rub at it. You lowered your head. "...sorry, I should've asked for permission first."
His stare softened for a bit before he sighed, his shoulders lowering. Then he blinked, placing a hand on your shoulder. You perked up, looking back at his weary, tired eyes. "You're a good kid," he muttered. "I can tell that you're willing to do anything for anyone."
You nodded your head slightly. Why was he telling you this?
"Don't mess your future up by following the wrong path." He advised.
"...I understand, sir," you said after a moment of hesitation. You didn't understand anything. Did he know? Was he suspecting? You were getting a bit paranoid.
He patted your shoulder, removing his hand, before he turned around and walked back into the store, leaving you alone and standing beside his car.
When you walked back to your apartment, you noticed there was a white envelope taped to your door. You sighed in annoyance, thinking it was the apartment manager sending you another notice and complaining about the late rent fees. Then you remembered that you had already paid them. What could this be??
You walked up, ripping the envelope from the door as you opened it, taking out a sheet of paper that contained someone's phone number and a short, simple message: "call me!!"
You frowned and walked inside your apartment, making sure the door closed behind you before you took out your phone and dialed the number listed.
The familiar ringing played in your ear for a couple seconds before the person finally picked it up.
"Hello? Who is this?" The voice asked.
"Um, hi, someone left your number at my front door?"
There was a pause before the voice suddenly shifted into a much more cheerful tone. "Oh! Hold on a second."
You heard a faint 'Boss!!' from the other line before a familiar voice overtook the call once more.
"Heya, driver boy!! Didn't expect you to come back home that earlier," she joked, grinning. "What'd you think of today?"
"Honestly?" You began, leaning against the table counter. "It wasn't... that bad, actually. It was fun."
"Fun, huh?" Scythe repeated, emphasizing your choice of words. "You know... if you ever wanna do something like that, we're more than glad to provide it."
"Was today meant to be a test run on what it'll be like in the church?" You joked, chuckling at your own joke, before you trailed off.
"Depends, do you want to call it that?"
"Very funny." You hummed. "But I did say that it was only going to be a one-time thing, Scythe."
"I know." Scythe said; her voice was more... relaxing than her usual co*cky attitude, which reminded you of Banhammer's in some way. "But, you said yourself that it was fun."
"I did... but..."
"But what?" Scythe said.
"It's just... I guess, I'm just conflicted."
"What's there to be conflicted about?" Scythe asked. "We can give you more than just 30 bux per day. You get every privilege to drive around Crossroads without having to hide that hobby from Zuka."
"...how'd you know that?"
"That's not the point," Scythe interrupted. "What I'm trying to say here is you're trapped. The only thing you can do is drive phighters from the stadium over and over again, earning a mere 30 bux which is the bare minimum of payload."
"I mean... 30 bux's enough to last me through the day." You tried to reason with her, earning a click of the tongue as a response.
"Only a day? The church can easily turn that into weeks, months—years even!" Scythe emphasized it, coiling around you. "You're an asset to us, MC. You actually provide something useful to us instead of Zuka."
"You don't have to just be a substitute for Zuka. You could have your own legacy."
...legacy?
You licked your lower lip. "...what do you mean by legacy?"
"A name! Fame! Reputation." Scythe emphasized. "You can reach what could be considered a SFOTH-level reputation. Think about it, your name spread throughout the Inpherno. Every SFOTH god knows you by name and title."
"I..." You started. "I don't... and how does me being a driver get me this much fame?"
"Well, you're already making a name for yourself in Blackrock right now as we speak." Scythe hummed. You perked up at that, looking over to your television. You grabbed your remote, turning the TV on.
Sure enough, there was a news reporter, clearly a Blackrockian, talking about the incident in downtown Blackrock. A security camera footage of your car dashing through the traffic, sending other cars in a frenzy while being chased by Beta Biografts, appeared beside the news reporter as he explained the situation.
The camera footage then shifted to a live reporter, interviewing what seemed to be someone of high rank in Blackrock, seeing they were wearing a uniform. As you looked closer, the uniform tag contained Blackrock's icon and the initials "BRM."
"Seeing the camera footage, what do you have to say for the numerous Betagrafts failing to capture one speeding car and causing mayhem on Downtown Blackrock?" The news reporter asked, clearly intending on striking a nerve towards the higher rank. The higher rank clicked his tongue at the news reporter, glaring daggers.
"I suggest you word that question better, phu*ckface." He growled, now getting dangerously close to the news reporter.
"I wouldn't suggest doing anything, Mr. Tornade." The news reporter warned smugly. "We're on television."
"phu*ck you and your television bullsh*t!!" Tornade yelled, grabbing the news reporter by the shirt before the camera was quickly cut off, returning back to the safe news reporter as they tried to make up for the sudden, awkward cut.
"Don't you see?" Scythe whispered in your ear. "Your fame's already starting. If you back out now, you'll only be remembered as Zuka's little assistant."
You stared at the television, not even hearing the words that came out of the news reporter's mouth, and stuck to listening to Scythe's instead. You opened your mouth, sucking in a breath, before you made your choice.
"...I'll think about it."
There was a brief pause, though it felt more awkward than anything. Then Scythe's voice returned, not bothering to hide the disappointment in her tone. "...I see. If that's your choice."
The call ended, leaving you feeling more lonely than ever.
To say that you were reluctant would be an understatement. You were more than reluctant; you felt like there were two sides fighting for control right now, even as you paced around the living room. The conversation replayed in your mind for the tenth time before you groaned in frustration, taking your phone out and pressing on Boombox's contact.
Before you could press the call button, your finger paused, hovering over it.
...
There's no way Boombox would give you a proper answer—he's been against the church since the start. You sighed in defeat, throwing your phone on the couch before you sat down beside it, burying your face in your hands. You didn't know which one was the right choice.
Was there even a right choice to begin with?
You lifted your head up, looking down at your hands. You had calluses on your hand—specifically at the parts where the palm of your hand was starting to separate into fingers. You pressed your finger over them, feeling the rough and hardened skin, and the memory of you gripping the steering wheel flashed in your mind.
You felt... free.
You blinked, reminiscing about the memories.
Perhaps you should give them a call again.
