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Vee hadn't realized how far she'd separated from the others while turning the wheel on the final machine on the floor, not until after all the ichor had been extracted and panic mode kicked on.
It shouldn't have been a problem then, anyway. She'd just go back to the elevator… which was on the other side of the floor. Making the distance in the short time she had allotted was doable, but would be hard on the faulty tech running her legs.
Whatever, it was nothing she hadn't done on runs before. Until she started to move in the elevator's direction and immediately had to stop, Twisted Pebble rounding the corner out of nowhere.
OK, this was still fine. A distractor toon would be running by any second, drawing Twisted Pebble's attention so Vee could get to the elevator safely. This very procedure had been done a hundred times before.
Except… while Twisted Pebble hadn't seen Vee yet, (she was neatly situated behind a tray rack,) he hadn't seen anyone else, either, and also seemed to be refusing to leave the room.
Time was too short for this. Vee double-checked Twisted Pebble's location and trajectory before making a run for it. It really shouldn't be hard if she could stay behind him.
Her luck decided then was the perfect time to go on strike, apparently. Because, of course, that was the exact moment Twisted Pebble turned around. His red eyes locked directly onto Vee, already starting to lunge after her.
Vee needed to get away.
Sudden desperation bugged her outdated processors.
Hide, get away.
Pain split through Vee's head as she came to. She wondered for a moment if this was a faulty respawn, but it was far too dark in here to be in the lobby. So where was she?
Oh yeah, out on a run. Hiding from Twisted Pebble. And she'd certainly done a good job of that before passing out, considering how she was wedged between crates, tray racks, and a wall. How was it even possible to get in here?
Pain shot through her skull again. Grimacing, Vee ran a quick diagnostic. It took a moment, then returned:
Vee_v1
1/2 Hearts
Head – Impact damage sustained
!! EMERGENCY RESPAWN COMPROMISED !!
That last line of information was like the hammer that shattered Vee's screen. Respawn… compromised? As in, if Vee died, she wouldn't respawn? As in, if she died, she was dead forever?
This was never supposed to happen. Never in a million years. Stupid Vee, stupid decaying circuitry that can't even keep a respawn mechanic active.
And she was alone.
Because the elevator had definitely already left without her. Vee didn't know how long she'd been unconscious, but panic mode was long over and Twisted Pebble wasn't anywhere nearby now.
This doesn't feel right. Nothing about this was right. Vee's head hurt and she'd been left behind and now she was going to die and there was nothing she could do about it, was there?
She'd never see Brightney or Glisten or Astro or even Dandy ever again. Shelly, Sprout, everyone—never again.
It struck Vee as unfair. Why did she have to die here, all alone and without respawn? Why not anyone else? Why just her and no company? But that thought process in of itself was dumb, because no one had chosen this to happen, so how could it be unfair? It was just a mark of terrible luck.
Unless… what if she'd been left without help on purpose? Her head throbbed even trying to consider it, but it made sense, didn't it? No one really liked Vee, especially on these later floors where she kept getting herself in stupid compromising situations.
It was an ugly thought, one that coiled into her gut like a prophecy. Vee didn't know if she wanted to believe it or not. Her head hurt too much.
Whatever. Was she actually going to sit here until a twisted inevitably was able to find her and take her last heart? Sure, it was unlikely anything could find Vee between these obstacles and the wall, but she'd be here forever until she died now, so a non-zero chance suddenly became quite possible.
She could only hope the dice would roll right for her on this next thing she was going to attempt, a scenario that also had abysmal—but non-zero—chances of working.
Pain jittered throughout Vee's body as she stood up, her head taking the brunt of its focus. She stayed still for a second, forcing her fans to continue running smoothly and consistently. The pain lessened.
Ugh. This injury was quickly changing from annoying to humiliating. How had her circuits gotten jostled this much? It was stupid and unnecessary.
…It was exactly what normally happened with Vee. She messed up, then someone like Sprout had to bandage her back together, or someone like Brightney had to literally go into her mechanisms to patch her up.
Vee was… terrible.
She wouldn't be able to do this. This plan was ridiculous. Unreasonable at best.
But Vee was alone and she was going to die anyway.
So, might as well throw herself into the deep end, right?
And, hey, maybe if she did this it would prove she had a little usefulness after all.
Mic check! Vee tapped the receiver on her mic. The outline of Twisteds was flickery and fully shut out after a moment, but she was able to see there were none nearby.
Now or never. Some finagling later, Vee was able to wriggle back out of where her adrenaline haze had placed her. Thence began her journey back to the elevator.
Stepping lightly was hard, but there wasn't anyone here to draw attention off of Vee if she were to slip up and set her metal foot on the metal floor with enough force that the sound attracted attention. Vee couldn't afford to die, so every step was careful and exact.
She picked up a pair of wire cutters laying on a rack on the way, stashing it in her inventory. They'd pair well with the electrical tape she kept on her person in case of desperate repair need, (having openly sparking wounds were never a good idea, never again.)
Luck seemed to forgive her for whatever crime she'd committed against it to end up in this situation in the first place, for no twisteds were nearby. Vee saw them shambling in the distance around corners, but never close enough to be a real problem.
The elevator. It was right there. Closed, reminiscent of how Dandy kept the door shut tight to protect himself until all the ichor was extracted. Except this time Dandy wasn't behind the door. And the elevator wasn't, either.
But Vee still had a plan. Theoretically, she could do this.
She checked her surroundings—Twisted Poppy was there, shambling about an adjacent room—and set to work, jamming her fingers underneath a panel in the metal wall. Vee grit her teeth through the sting in her fingers, just forcing them in further and pulling.
The sound of metal peeling away from the building's internal skeleton was not pleasant. Vee inhaled and exhaled steadily, (a action preformed by fans rather than lungs,) removing the panel as slowly as she could to reduce the noise.
Glancing over her shoulder, Twisted Poppy appeared to have noticed something anyway, trudging her way closer. Though Twisted Poppy hadn't locked in on her yet, Vee still felt sweat pixelate on her screen.
The panel fully came off its supports with a final clack. Vee held the whole thing in her hands, pain sparking up her arms as her systems worked to carry the weight. Her fans spun anxiously and her head throbbed as she lowered the sheet of metal to the floor.
Vee's arms shook and struggled. …She was so weak, even though she was made of metal parts. So many other toons were stronger than her and were only biological. Why could she barely handle this weight?
And then it happened, (because of course it did, luck must hate her again;) power to her arms flickered off from the strain. It was only a moment, but the heavy sheet still finished its decent with a CRASH!
Stupid Vee and her stupid malfunctioning body. Vee snapped her attention to the now-exposed inner skeleton of the building—every twisted on the floor had heard that, she needed to get to work escaping now.
Vee had never hotwired an elevator before. But that didn't mean she didn't know how to. Wires and pipes stared at her from the new opening, but Vee didn't have time to stare back. She grabbed the wire cutters she'd gotten on the way over and cut a couple specific ones in one pass.
Sweating pixels, Vee forced herself not to waste time checking for how close the twisteds were, focusing herself on tearing off some electrical tape from her personal roll and crossing the wires, taping them like that. She couldn't even afford to be careful, if she'd accidentally touched the wire ends she would've been fried.
But she was going to die either way, so she didn't care how risky her actions were. The elevator door rolled open as Vee felt aggro latch firmly onto her.
The elevator shaft was designed to hold the industrial-strength elevator. Four huge tracks lay in the corners, crafted to carry thousands of pounds of weight at any moment—though at this stage of it life without maintenance, it was nowhere near as reliable.
Vee wasn't looking at any of that. Her gaze was set on the ladder rungs welded into the side of the shaft a few feet away. Her salvation, her escape from this terrible floor.
She barely wasted time on calculating—she had nowhere near enough time to afford wastage—just jumped, weak frame protesting the movement, and caught onto one of the rungs. She scrambled, flinging her feet onto a rung below, and as soon she got a grip, threw herself up the ladder.
She didn't stop recklessly climbing until all her stamina had run out. Then she was forced to cling to the old rusting ladder rungs and think.
She'd left those Twisteds behind, at least. That was a good thing. She was safe, assuming she didn't fall. Already, this was far longer than anyone was supposed to live after missing the elevator.
Most toons just gave up at that point, letting the Twisteds kill them. Honestly, what else could one do? There wasn't really a way out of this.
Of course, most toons weren't at risk of having their respawn randomly stop functioning. Vee hadn't known that was a risk either, to be fair. Now here she was, finding a way to escape this impossible situation all because she had no other choice.
She started climbing again.
The ladder was clearly made for adult humans—that is to say, it wasn't exactly toon-sized. Every step felt like a skip and a half, costing precious stamina. How long would it take to reach the top if she had to keep stopping to rest every few minutes?
Her body hurt. Her head throbbed. She had to keep pushing. Was there a goal here anyway?
She had to stop again. Her head, solidly unimpressed with the constant low stamina, felt like knives were stabbing into it. Vee grit her teeth and hissed against the pain.
There really was something wrong with her. While the biological toons were able to change and adjust to new ways o living, Vee's metal was severely limited, and, well…
She didn't like thinking about it. It was the sort of thing that came up and rattled her apart in the dead of night when recharging felt impossible. That Vee was obsolete.
It was overwhelming, feeling these thoughts crowding into her hardware now, when she'd just escaped hardcore death. But it was true.
Why was Vee here? In this elevator shaft? Because she needed to avoid Twisteds and get back to the safe area. Because her respawn function broke. Because her processor was too old to hold all her bits together when she got tossed around.
That might have been fine for a gameshow host, but that wasn't what she had to do now. No, Vee had to protect everyone, had to help. And it was clear she was getting worse.
Even routine maintenance from Brightney couldn't keep Vee together, to be fully transparent. Vee's body was getting worse at holding together day after day.
Maybe it hadn't been such a bad idea after all, you know, Vee version—
Don't think about it! Your stamina's back! Just climb!
Her servos protested as she forced them back to the repetitive, stressed motion. No matter. Vee dealt with this everyday.
But now?
She felt really… inadequate.
What was WRONG with her? So incapable no one even wanted to save her from twisteds. So slow she couldn't even hide without a head injury. So worthless the world decided she didn't even deserve to live.
Vee stopped and let one hand go and grab her antenna and yank. Buzzes and sparks shot through her body. It covered the pain. It covered the thoughts.
Keep climbing. Keep going.
Just let go and let the fall claim you.
No, Vee would not be doing that.
Everyone wants you to do.
Vee didn't, that's for sure.
Keep going. Go up.
It was harder than it should ever be. It was just a ladder.
But saying that was a deception in a way. It wasn't just a ladder. It was also thoughts. It was also an out-dated, dying body. It was stress and it was hard and maybe impossible and—
What did she even expect to be at the top, anyway? Don't think about that. There'll be help. You'll be fine.
OK, but that means nothing when you know they won't. They don't care. They'd actually rather someone so old and useless never showed up again.
Vee shook her head, exhaling in relief when the pulsing agony broke the thoughts, clouding them.
There was a rumbling coming up from below. Vee almost didn't notice it. Then she realized what it was. Wasn't this a tricky spot? Stuck here as the elevator hurtled up on its return trip. There wasn't enough room between the ladder and the elevator, was there? Not with how chunky Vee's stupid old body was.
Vee should just let herself die here. It would only be fair. Yet again, the second time this day, Vee's self-preservation subroutines kicked it, taking over before she could stop.
That was how she ended up hanging off the side of the rungs, pressing her back against the wall of the elevator shaft, arm and leg trembling from strain.
Why was she like this?
Air rushed past. The industrial elevator's cables and tracks grinded as the old technology made its ascent. Then the elevator was gone, far above her.
She wondered if anyone but Dandy was even inside it. Had everyone died yet? Or was it just Vee who hadn't made it? No, she wouldn't be surprised if it really played out that way. Everyone knew Vee was useless—anyone else deserved survival.
Hah. Vee's grip faltered. Anyone else would've been able to hold fast.
She hurtled downward, now. She'd fallen. How satisfying would it feel when Vee hit the bottom of the endless tower and burst apart? This was the fate she needed.
But terror clogged her systems and saved her, as it always did. Her failing limbs managed to catch back onto the ladder, managed to interrupt her terrible decent.
Vee didn't know whether to be happy or sad.
Agony washed through her metal, and suddenly she knew. Knew that falling was too peaceful an end, anyway. The life she deserved to suffer through was this, forcing a decaying body to continue function until it absolutely couldn't anymore.
It hurt. By Ichor, it hurt. She almost gave up immediately. But this was the only thing good enough for her, now. Grip after grip. Step after step. Every single action was a new barrage of pain.
Vee had to stop at some point to bash her wrist into the metal rod of one of the rungs. Why hurt more? She didn't know. She'd just thought it'd help. And, in some messed up way, it did.
A breathy laugh left her voicebox as she continued this empty journey. It was so hard to think. She could barely even register having to pause for stamina anymore.
It hurt. And Vee cared. Not to stop it—to keep it going. She had to. She… right?
It hurt so much, but this was how it had to be.
Was that a ceiling? She felt so dizzy… oh. Oh! That was—that was the elevator! Did she—wow, had she really made it?
Hah… what the [bzzt–] was she supposed to do now?? That was the bottom of the elevator. That's it. No magical exit. No nothing.
Vee was still trapped. Still alone. Still dying, still in pain, still scared.
She giggled. She felt her screen glitch, and giggled again, because, wow! How many people had ever [b–zzt]-ed it up this bad before? This was some sort of new low!
She'd never had a plan. How had she let herself fool herself so long?
So she giggled. And then she was full on laughing, hands clutched on the ladder in a maniacal sort of death grip, unable to do anything else but react to the absolute hilarity of it all.
But hysterical laughter gave way to simple heavy breathing, her mind distracting circles around everything, everything wrong. She felt panicky, everything was blurred and far away and frightful, and then—
Something broke. Because Vee never cried. She just didn't, this was a fact. But now she sobbed, screen glitching violently. Because none of this was far and none of this was supposed to be this way and it was all so wrong.
Vee was the problem.
She sobbed. And she wailed. And she couldn't even move, entire body too weak to even consider the action. Digital tears streamed down her screen. She didn't know how to stop.
She couldn't do this.
This was nothing like how Vee was supposed to be. But when was the last time she'd been a good little TV Girl who did everything right?
Vee was pathetic, and that realization itself warped her next wail into something halfway to hysterical laughter again.
One of her hands finally let go of the ladder, only for the reason of squeezing and yanking on her antenna, the buzzing a welcome addition to everything wrong with her.
Vee hated crying. She hated it all. She felt ugly, yucky, an absolute mess, but she couldn't stop. She just couldn't. She hated herself.
A couple clangs sounded from the giant box above her head, but what did that even mean? Vee yanked a particularly harsh tug on her antenna, relishing the slight tear she felt and the relief that washed through her body even as she cried louder from pain.
"Wait, Vee? Is that you?"
…Dandy?
Vee sniffed furiously, breathing deeply as she desperately prepared herself to reply.
"Yeah?" she answered, voice catching halfway out.
"Vee!" Dandy responded. "What're you doing out there? Where even are you?"
"I—uh," overwhelmed, abort mission. "Hi?"
"Did you seriously climb up that much of the elevator shaft?" Dandy asked, calling through the elevator floor.
"Yes?"
"Vee! Why didn't you just die when you got left? There's no way to get to you now!" Dandy said.
Vee hated herself, she hated everything, herself, bad, don't think about it, don't cry, oh Ichor don't cry in front of Dandy, you just did that though when they found you, don't no you can't!
Vee felt scared.
"I'm—" her voice cut out for a moment before she was able to restore it, "respawn? Can't."
Talking was hard. It was so hard. Why was she talking like this, though? Just because it's easier? Shameful, disgusting, keep yourself together.
"…What do you mean can't?" Dandy asked.
Vee heard the fear in its voice. But why did he care? The two were rivals. Always had been, always will be. And no one cared about Vee, much less her rival.
Dandy had said itself that there was no way to get Vee now. It would be right to just let go now, then, right? Would it be? She wanted to. Holding herself back was an ugly effort coiling in he stomach.
"Vee, answer!"
Vee snapped back to focus. Oh. Did she really have to clarify this? It was just so annoying, opening up her weaknesses to be all on display.
"Broke," she explained, yanking her antenna as punishment for the short answer.
"What the heck? Vee! What does that mean?" Dandy shouted.
Vee winced as her head injury made its aggravation to the noise known ten-fold.
"So, should I drop—drop now, or, like, wait…" Vee asked. Sudden irritation spiked, this apparently being the only time she could string together more than a couple words for a sentence.
"What are you talking about?" Did Dandy sound a little frantic now?
"I, uh… I'm broken, should I just, like, get rid of myself now, or—or should I… wait?" she repeated, fans whirring because she could feel nervous even at her own demise, apparently.
"No, no, no, Vee? Are you saying your respawn function broke?"
Yeah, definitely frantic.
"Yes," she answered, wondering if this was a good time to bang her wrist on the rung again, (she felt so empty without the pain.)
"OK, uh—you just, sit tight, OK? I'm going to get help, we're going to get you out of there," Dandy said.
"You're leaving?" Vee shrieked before she could think, clutching onto the ladder like it was the only thing that would never leave, (which was probably true.)
There was silence. For a moment Vee thought they'd left her, that she was officially alone again, but a sot thump interrupted the thump. Dandy probably sitting down, right at the spot in the floor closest to her.
"I'm not leaving you, I'm getting help."
Same thing. It was—was it literally not the same thing?
"Vee?"
"It's—whatever. I don't care," she lied, but it should've been the truth.
"I'm going to get someone to bust through this floor and we're going to pull you out, OK? And then Brightney will fix your respawn. Everything's alright. It'll be alright," Dandy said.
"Don't baby me," Vee protested.
"Sorry, I—you're not going to do anything if I go to get help right? You'll be OK right here? Not going to, like… let go as soon as I'm outside the elevator?"
Vee stared at the wall in front of her.
"…Do I have to promise?" she asked.
"I mean, yeah? So—so I know you're safe," Dandy answered.
Why did Dandy care?
This was weird. Wrong. Vee didn't know what to think.
Be useful. Be good enough. Try harder. Just do it.
"OK. I'll be here…" Vee confirmed.
Dandy didn't want her gone. Weird. But Vee would prove she was good enough. Would prove that Dandy wasn't making a mistake in deciding to keep her.
"Yeah? You're sure?" Dandy asked.
"Dandy, just go. I'll be here," Vee repeated.
"OK!" Vee heard the clanging as Dandy left.
Vee was alone. But she was also almost home.
Everything would be OK. It had to be.