Catastrophic mission failure

"On your six - skibidi! Cygnus! On your six!" you shout. That saying about how things 'appear to happen in slow motion' in times of extreme stress turns out to be true, thinks the part of your brain that still thinks detached thoughts in times of crisis. The manipulator skibidi closes the distance across the stony tundra before Cygnus can take evasive action.

You see Cygnus convulse horribly, in a way that they would presumably never be able to replicate voluntarily, their joints emitting sparks from the strain. You hear a fuse blow and a small blast of soot vacate their shoulder socket. Cygnus turns their screen towards you, their neck-joint sparking, and their screen starts to shift from their placid green-tinted grey to a sickening purple…

Instantly, you know what you must do. A line of fire erupts down your front from your jaw to your abdomen - it's your guts surging with fear-adrenalin and with hate and anger towards the skibidi. You pick up the nearest rock and hurl it before your mind fully catches up to what you're doing. Cygnus screams as their screen shatters - how much of that sound is them and how much of it is the shocked manipulator skibidi? You're not done yet - your heart crumples from what you had to do to your friend and at the knowledge that you're going to have to hurt them even more, or doom the TV faction…

It would be an honour to die by your hand, Cygnus, but I'm not making it easy for you.

You've already closed the distance between yourself and your friend, whose hands are clawing frantically at the broken edges of their screen-glass. You should have picked up another rock on the way, but you didn't and now it's too late. Nothing for it then. You punch your fist into Cygnus's head-casing, through the remains of their broken screen, shattering the back of the glass envelope of their cathode ray tube. I'm so sorry, Cygnus. You need to access and rip out their teleport-circuit before the skibidi can work out how to use it and teleport Cygnus away to a skibidi base, and bleed them for information.

Your slashed fist is gushing blood. You're working blind as you try to find the teleport-circuit before the manipulator-skibidi does. The skibidi is resisting, thrashing Cygnus's head around (and cutting your arm more from the shards of screen-glass). You have to destroy the circuit! I'm so sorry, Cygnus. The skibidi scuttles all around Cygnus's head-casing, its elastic proboscis-tether keeping its hold. Your arm is pain, your arm is fire - you're being shocked from the ripped circuits and broken focusing coils inside Cygnus's head. You're pretty sure you ripped your knuckle-flesh down to the bone when you broke through the back of the cathode ray envelope. I'm so sorry, Cygnus. So sorry, so sorry - you rip out your friend's teleport-circuit, with strange ease as the electrocution makes your muscles and tendons convulse, pulling out a shower of glass shards and blood drops with it. The secrets of the TV faction are safe… but your friend isn't. You still have to destroy the skibidi.

The skibidi screams around its horrid tongue as you reach for it. You're running on fumes but you must not fail. The skibidi tries to continue running all over Cygnus's head-casing so you can't grab it - so you grab instead at the stationary point where its proboscis connects. You push your nails into it as hard as you can, trying to inflict maximum pain on it as you rip it out. Both Cygnus and the manipulator-skibidi scream in unison, both the sounds terrible for different reasons, as you pull out the squirming appendage and throw the skibidi to the ground with it. You aren't able to stop slamming it over and over again on the ground until well after the creature is still and silent. Cygnus's agonised cry of static, ghastly-sounding from their speakers knocked out of alignment, brings you back to reality.

With shaking and bloodied hands, you call Engineer Sixteen-Sixty-Eight on your communicator, tapping the priority indicator up to maximum emergency. To your immense relief, they heed your call.

"Sixty-Eight! Need immediate extraction. Twenty-Two's life may be forfeit. Send Titan to my location." You get all the information out - the back of your mind pleased with yourself for not hesitating or gibbering.

You hear Sixty-Eight start to speak, but their words are drowned out by the roar of the nearby Titan: "Phaeton! I am coming!"

The Titan's teleport-fog manifests almost as soon as the Titan's verbalisation ends. The Titan (covered in bits of ripped-out cabling and hangar-machinery that it evidently didn't wait for its engineers to detach) unhesitatingly begins crouching even before the fog has fully dissipated, scooping up you and Cygnus. Your world is immediately swirling blackness, then the familiar sight of the Titan's hangar. It feels surreal to see it, this location you consider a safe haven, while your world is collapsing.

"Oh, Phaeton! Twenty-Two!" the Titan sounds utterly distraught as it takes in the sight of you both - Cygnus without a face, sparking and twitching, and you covered in your own blood with an arm sliced to ribbons. You collapse on the Titan's palm. Cygnus is back at TV Base and free of the manipulator - that's all you need. You can pass out now.

"Don't you dare die on me, either of you!" the Titan's rising panic makes it sound angry. "Sixty-Eight, you must fix this!"

You're still lying on your side, panting as your vision swims nauseatingly and your body catches up to how much damage it's taken. Hurt. The word is all you can think of - not even the word, just the concept, defining your consciousness. You're vaguely aware of Cygnus being carried away. Where are they going? Where are you going?

You awake. Are you awake? Your head feels like hammered shit. Oh. You're probably going to be alright if you can think of phrasing like that. You hear a howling - not really hearing it, but the kind your mind does all by itself in your inner ear when your stress levels are through the roof. Your arms, your shoulders, your upper back, ache sharply and feel too stiff to move. At least someone's bandaged your arm. You hope they cleaned it and pulled all the shards of glass out of it first. Your blood-soaked clothes are gone. Someone's dressed you in a clean lab coat to wear as a nightshirt - you guess techfolk don't keep hospital paper gowns on hand.

"Whozat? Need painkiller," you mutter at the blur in front of you that you guess is a TV-unit.

You were right - it is a TV-unit. They hold your hand with such gentleness. "Phaeton, it's Twelve. From the engineering team. We gave you paracetamol. How are you feeling?"

Oh. Friend. Yes. Forty-Two-Twelve, the deputy lead engineer. "Need codeine. Got codeine?"

Twelve swivels their head to address someone else. "Find codeine for the human. Use my authority if you have to." They swivel their head back to face you.

"Cygnus. Where?" you say. "Oww. Light hurts eyes."

Twelve dims the light of their screen for you. "Twenty-Two is in another repair bay." Oh yeah. You meant Twenty-Two. Luckily Twelve knows whom you meant.

"Not dead? Fuck yeah."

Twelve strokes your hand. "No, not dead. Just like you. Officially I should reprimand you for unauthorised deployment of the Titan, but personally I don't care to, and I'm prepared to defend that position to the Imperator."

You grunt.

"Poor Phaeton." Twelve continues stroking your hand. (Physically, the sensation isn't really doing anything for you, but you appreciate the intent of the gesture. Part of you is surprised you can even notice things like this, given the state you're in.) "We'll have to debrief you later, but you should rest and recover for now. Do you need water?"

"eah."

Twelve helps you sit up, just as another TV-unit returns with what you hope is codeine.

"Codeine?" you ask.

"That's right," says the other unit. A medic? It's no-one you know.

"Codeine gooood," you say, accepting a glass of water from Twelve. They have to help you get the tablets out of the packaging. (You should probably check whether these contain paracetamol in addition to the codeine, and how long ago the TVs gave you paracetamol, but fuck it. Pain bad. Need to recover. Your liver will just have to take the hit.)

You realise something. "I need a piss." That was why your body woke you up. "Floor drain? Bucket? Or something?"

"We'll get you a bucket," says Twelve, nodding to the other TV-unit. They leave and come back a thankfully short interval later, carrying a bucket for you.

Drained of piss, you lie back down. You're on a repair bench, you think, though someone's evidently found you something a bit softer to lie on. Probably sofa cushions under a blanket.

"What do you need next?" says the other TV-unit.

"Prob'ly sleep," you say. "I can see, I can talk, I'm drinking water and pissing normally. All good signs. Prob'ly no organ damage. Just muscular. It'll heal. Got sleep, got water, prob'ly heal."

"Then sleep," says Twelve. "The Titan will be relieved to hear your self-assessment. I'll tell them."

"Need food," you say. "Prob'ly lost blood. Need food to replace. …Ohh fuck yes, Seabrooks Canadian ham." You spot a small pile of snacks next to the water pitcher on a nearby table.

The other TV-unit (yeah, probably is a medic, you guess) helps you sit up again and passes you the snacks that you make grabby-hands at. "I and the other medics will be around," says the other unit. "We'll check on you later."

You get some glucose down your neck, and feel a tiny bit of strength returning. If you can eat normally, you're prob'ly… probably going to live. Sleep… Sleep sounds good.

You awake, head pounding. You find your communicator on the table (oh, someone cleaned it of all the blood, nice one) and use it as a torch to locate the packet of codeine. Oh yes, it's pure codeine, which means it's okay to take more paracetamol with it. And ibuprofen too, that's safe to stack. Ohh yess, someone left ibuprofen here too. You want to kiss whichever TV did that. You take the handful of pills and polish off the rest of the snacks. Wow. You must be getting better. Time to lie back down until the painkillers kick in. Oww, poor head. Why does your head hurt if it's your arm that got wrecked? Stupid body. Drink more water in case it's dehydration. Bit better.

A medic enters at the sound of you stirring. They seem encouraged by your alertness. "How are you feeling now?" they ask.

"Shitty," you say. "But alive nevertheless. I need to know about Fifty-Twenty-Two. What's their prognosis? Can you replace their screen?"

"We're hoping you can help us with that. We need to know what happened, so we can fix all damage."

You stand. Owww. At least your legs work. You're surprised by how well you can stand, actually. Hooray for painkillers. "Can you take me to Twenty-Two? I trust in your skills but I need to see my friend." You wonder how this is going to work. You can walk, but you have nothing to wear on your feet. Can someone port you back to your home base so you can pick up more clothes? Is there something like a hospital wheelchair the medic can pop you in?

The medic must have correctly guessed what you were thinking about - they pick up a bag from the floor and place it on the repair bench for you to look through. "Antlia-Four Base took the liberty of sending over some of your items in last night's supply drop," they explain.

Oh yess, change of clothes and some more snacks. Nice one. You'll have to find and thank whoever sorted that out. (Bit of an eclectic assortment of foods, but you probably can't expect a non-organic to grok flavour harmony.) The medic waits with you while you get changed and eat a little something.

Once done, you make your way to the repair bay where Cygnus is currently being held. You wince a bit as you walk - hopefully the gentle exercise will do you some good. (Hopefully. How can you tell if moving the muscle will help it or make it heal slower? Muscle injuries all feel kinda the same in that regard. Bodies are stupid.)

The sight of Cygnus is heart-breaking. Part of the back of your mind is intrigued by the setup before you - Cygnus's head has been detached, connected to their body by temporary cables, supplying power to their head and access to Cygnus's additional hard drives in their torso. Their body lies inert while their head is on a dedicated repair bench, being attended to by several medics. Most panels of their head-casing have been removed, exposing the innards of Cygnus's head - it's remarkable how techfolk can work like that. You notice also the clawed appendage protracting from the base of Cygnus's head - they'd told you once before that they had a recycled prototype version of the hardware that lets the Imperator detach their head, just not the necessary software drivers or head-rockets. If you hadn't already known that was in there, it would have been quite an arresting sight.

"Cygnus-" you begin.

"Human? Couldn't you have… removed the parasite?! Just pulled it off?? Did you have to smash my screen?!" screams Cygnus's screenless disembodied head, their voice sounding horrifying from their blown speaker cones. Their headless body's hands twitch judderingly, like a stop-motion with low framerate.

"A manipulator was able to actually latch on to a TV?" says one of the medics, as all the medics' heads turn to face you. "…This is worrying. The Imperator must be informed."

"Indeed," says the Imperator, striding in. They turn the dials on their head-casing as they do so, to better modulate their voice to a range you can hear. The Imperator turns to you. "Phaeton. I need to know everything. Speak now." All the Imperator's normal friendliness is absent - in front of you is only the terrifying calculating general of the TV faction. (You think you're experiencing a shadow of the fear Skibidis must feel when they encounter the TV Imperator on the battlefield.) The Imperator's two bodyguards take their place on either side of their leader, looking stoic and impassive. Behind them, Engineer Sixteen-Sixty-Eight, the Titan's lead engineer, arrives.

"You heard right, Imperator," you begin. "There was a manipulator skibidi, and it did latch on to Fifty-Twenty-Two. Twenty-Two's injuries are from me as I removed it." You hold up your bandaged arm for emphasis.

The Imperator briefly displays a shocked emoticon. You guess they didn't think that a fleshform human could inflict such damage on a TV.

Cygnus screams wordlessly with rage and anguish, making you flinch, and all TVs display various shocked or fearful emoticons. Even the Imperator's guards briefly flash them on-screen before bringing themselves back under control.

"How did that happen?" asks one of the medics. "Manipulators detach relatively easily."

The Imperator displays a stern emoticon as they wait for your answer.

"The manipulator was bringing Twenty-Two's command-beam to bear. If it had succeeded, then I wouldn't have been able to remove it. I was too far away to just reach out and pull it off, so I threw a rock to prevent the manipulator firing up the beam to full strength. That's how Twenty-Two's screen was destroyed."

Another medic asks: "How did you know the skibidi was about to use Twenty-Two's command-beam?"

"…Twenty-Two's screen went purple. That's the only thing it could have been, isn't it?" Shit… did you break dear Cygnus's screen for no reason?

The Imperator asks: "That doesn't add up. Purple means the beam is already deployed. How were you able to resist it enough to throw the rock?"

"I… actually don't know that, Imperator," you reply. "My guess is that the skibidi didn't know how to use it properly, or couldn't concentrate enough. Is it possible that I've built up a partial immunity to it? …Twenty-Two uses the beam on me consensually."

Engineer Sixty-Eight interjects: "If that's what happened, this is important intel. If a human can build up an immunity to the command-beam, that means skibidis probably can too. This means that we can't leave any skibidi alive." ('Isn't that how TVs operate anyway?' you think.)

The Imperator gestures for you to continue explaining what happened. You continue: "Then… then I had to destroy Twenty-Two's teleport-circuit. I couldn't risk the manipulator getting to it first and porting Twenty-Two to a skibidi base." (Part of the back of your mind is proud that you got all the explanation out with breaking down.)

"Why didn't you just pull it off?!" Cygnus screams, the waveform of the sound clipping. "You smashed my screen! It hurt so much! Why did you have to rip apart my cathode ray as well?!" Cygnus's headless body spasms.

"…I couldn't risk it porting you," you say. "I know they detach easily. But the time it took me to grab it was time it could have used to port you. And… your head's on a swivel. It could have just kept swivelling your head so I couldn't grab it." You turn to the Imperator. "Now you know what happened. I accept any and all punishment for this. If you need to revoke my auxiliary status… I understand, my Imperator."

The Imperator looks impatient. "I still don't know everything that happened. Help me understand: why was the Titan deployed? Instead of a standard extraction team?"

"The Titan was all I had access to, Imperator. I had no means of contacting an extraction team - to be honest, this is the first I've heard of such an SOP. I have Engineer Sixteen-Sixty-Eight in my communicator, so I contacted them and requested extraction via the Titan. The Titan overheard my message and I get the impression that it came to us of its own accord."

The Imperator looks at Engineer Sixty-Eight. "I confirm that is what happened, Imperator," says Sixty-Eight.

The Imperator looks very displeased at your ignorance of the standard mission extraction process. "You went out on a mission without an extraction team in place? Who authorised that?"

"…I don't know, Imperator." You turn to the remains of Cygnus's head. "Cygnus-"

"Don't call me that, human!" snaps Cygnus. "I am Fifty-Twenty-Two."

Oh. That hurts.

"Fifty-Twenty-Two," says the Imperator, "Who authorised this mission?"

Cygnus eventually replies: "…No-one, Imperator. I acted of my own accord."

The Imperator addresses you next. "And were you aware of this?"

"No, Imperator," you confirm. "I accompanied Twenty-Two in good faith that this mission was in accordance with protocol." You hate to throw Cygnus under the bus, but you don't want to lie outright to the Imperator either.

The Imperator looks coldly furious. You realise you're actually rather nervous of them right now. "…This is an absolute mess," they say.

The medics have been working quietly away on Cygnus throughout the Imperator's questioning. One of the medics finishes hooking up a temporary external screen to Cygnus's head, restoring their primary vision and ability to display emoticons. The screen displays a test card pattern while it works itself into Cygnus's systems.

"Fifty-Twenty-Two," says the Imperator, "Let me review what happened: you went on an unauthorised mission with no extraction team in place, endangering my auxiliary and forcing them to deploy the Titan without authorisation, and on top of that a manipulator skibidi was able to latch onto you - the first time this has happened to our faction. This is out of scope of 'shit happens'. I am disappointed."

Cygnus's temporary screen has managed to exit test-card mode. Cygnus displays an emoticon of utter dejection, then their screen dissolves into cascading static bands of shame.

"We'll talk about this later, Twenty-Two," says the Imperator. "…I'm not going to stand here berating you right now when you're still in this state." (Isn't that what they just did? …You dread to think what the Imperator considers actual beration, then.) "I doubt there's even any point in penalising you for this - you've already suffered from your actions enough. But there will have to be consequences to prevent another occurrence like this. For now, concentrate on recovery. You're in good hands here."

"…Thank you, Imperator," says Cygnus.

The Imperator prepares to leave. "Phaeton, walk with me," they instruct.

You nod to confirm your understanding, and accompany the Imperator and their two guards. You look back at Cygnus as you depart, but they don't show any emoticon. 'You can hate me if you need to,' you think. 'I love you anyway.' You're not quite brave enough to say it out loud. Maybe it would aggravate Cygnus more than it would comfort them.

The Imperator has a medic show you all back to the repair bay where you were being kept. Once there, the Imperator approaches you. This must be it - they're probably going to strip you of your auxiliary status. Probably remove you from the Titan's engineering team. You just hope they don't ban you from TV Base altogether…

"May I hug you?" the Imperator asks softly. …What? That's unexpected.

You get yourself together so you can respond. "Yes, but gently please. I'm very sore. Imperator."

The Imperator gathers you in their arms and holds you to them, stroking your back. Oh, that's kind of nice. Their hands are nice and warm. "Phaeton, I am so sorry," says the Imperator. The two guards move in close and each of them takes a turn at petting your head.

You're a little confused. "…Twenty-Two's the one who suffered most. I just have some muscle injuries. I got electro-shocked too, but I think I escaped organ damage."

"You were forced to attack your friend," says the Imperator, continuing to stroke you. "That must have been… oh Phaeton, I can't imagine. And your injuries… the medics told me they had to pull broken glass out of your flesh." The Imperator gathers you in as close as they dare, conscious of your injuries. "I'm impressed by your quick thinking and your resolve, and I'm sorry you had to do that." The Imperator pulls away so they can look you in the face again. "The TV faction has maintained zero casualties since this war began. Thanks to you, that's still the case."

You feel… bizarre. You're not feeling clever enough right now to find a better word for it, that's for sure. You were expecting to be penalised by the Imperator for your role in Cygnus's injuries, but they're comforting you instead. You wanted to give comfort to Cygnus, but they don't seem to want to know you right now. You're deeply hurt by that, but you can't bring yourself to hold it against Cygnus. Having your entire face broken gives them a pass on being angry, you reckon. And on top of all this you're probably a bit loopy from the codeine.

"You need rest," points out the Imperator. "…Can you manage a quick visit to the Titan's hangar before you go back to bed? The Titan keeps asking for status updates and I think it would feel better if it saw you."

"Yes, Imperator," you say. You would like to see your beloved Titan again. "Would you port me there? I am tired."

"Of course," says the Imperator, embracing you once more. You travel with them along the void-pathway that only TVs can open. You're aware of the two guards nearby, travelling through the void with you.

You're pleased to be back in the Titan's hangar again. The last time you came here was in awful and dire circumstances - it feels good to 'cleanse' your experience of it by coming back. You're still in bad shape but you'll recover. Cygnus is in far worse shape but you're confident that the medical team will sort them out. Your arrival causes consternation among the engineering team - all those nearby who are able to quickly break off from their current task rush towards you.

"Be careful with Phaeton," warns the Imperator as your engineering colleagues crowd around you and pet you. They're careful with you - you're in the gentlest of group-hugs.

The Titan hurries to disengage from any hangar cables it's connected to, and turns itself to face you. It moves its hands over to the walkway on which you're standing, seemingly impatient for the engineers to move out of the way. "Phaeton," says the Titan, "Oh, Phaeton, how I've worried. May I pick you up?"

"I'd love that, boss," you reply. "Please be extra-gentle with me, though. I'm feeling a bit fragile."

The Titan waits for you to fully step onto its hand, then carefully cups its hands around you, a little slower than usual, so it can lift you closer to its screen. "My dear friend," says the Titan softly. "I'm so relieved. How is Twenty-Two?"

"Not in mortal danger," you reply. "They're not doing well, but they're not going to die from it. …I wish I could stay with them, but I think they'd rather be alone. And I don't want to get in the way of the medics."

The Imperator ports next to you in the Titan's hands. "Phaeton, will you be alright if I take my leave now?" says the Imperator.

"Yes, Imperator," you reply. "I'll ask one of the engineers to help me back to bed. …Please, would you notify Forty-Three-Zero-Four about Fifty-Twenty-Two? They're a friend of Twenty-Two, and I don't have them saved in my communicator."

The Imperator nods. "I'll have someone contact them." The Imperator gives you a mild hug. "I don't want to leave you, but I have to leave you. Take care, Phaeton."

"Ah'll sithee, Imperator," you say as they dissipate in a cloud of black mist.

"Phaeton, may I stroke you?" asks the Titan.

"Please would you stroke my back and shoulders?" you ask. "I'm very tense there and would appreciate some rubs. Just avoid my arm, because the skin needs to heal."

The Titan waits for you to safely settle on its palm, then moves its other hand away so it can massage your back and shoulders with its index finger. Ohh. That's really helpful. You sigh with relaxation, for the first time since your fateful encounter with the manipulator skibidi.

"What happened?" asks the Titan softly. "I heard you encountered a platoon of skibidis."

"It was just the one. I killed it, though."

"…One skibidi did that much damage? And still you were able to defeat it?"

"It was a manipulator. It managed to latch onto Twenty-Two. I did all that damage to both of us as I fought it off. …I had to break Twenty-Two's screen to stop the skibidi using their command-beam. And then I had to break Twenty-Two's teleport-circuit to stop the skibidi using that. That's how I sliced up my arm."

"That's… horrifying. Phaeton, I am so sorry you and Twenty-Two experienced that. Oh, my dear, brave friends." The Titan holds you comfortingly. "Would you spend the night here?"

"You know I'd love to, boss," you say. "But I should probably go back to the repair bay so the medics can keep an eye on me."

"Of course. Go and rest, my engineer." The Titan sets you down on a walkway to return you to the rest of the engineering team. A couple of them escort you back to the repair bay where you've been sleeping. A bit more sleep sounds good right now.

You're woken by sounds of clattering, which turns into full-blown crashing and an exclamation of "Fuck-sprockets!" You know that voice. A trolley of medical implements falls over with a comedy tinkle-tinkle noise as you sit yourself up.

You wish you'd been awake to watch Polycephaly manoeuvre themself through the repair bay door - that must have been a funny sight! (You guess there must be a bigger repair bay in the base somewhere in case Polycephaly needs one. Maybe they'd have to go to the Titan's hangar for that?) Polycephaly crouches awkwardly, trying and failing to rein themself in to avoid knocking everything over. A few medics enter the repair bay, presumably summoned by all the noise, and would probably be running around in consternation if there was enough space for them to do so.

"Hello, Polycephaly," you say, "My brain's still feeling like stir-fried dickmeat, so please just pretend I said something hilariously clever and witty that made us both laugh."

"Hello, Phaeton," says Polycephaly, "Pretend I made a brilliant riposte and we both laughed about that too."

"I make a counter-retort."

"I resort to threatening to pick you up in mockery of your tiny size."

"Oh, would you actually?" you ask.

Polycephaly sits down properly on the floor and holds out their arms. You gratefully slide out of bed and accept their hug and pick-up. One of the medics protests, saying you need rest.

"Not to worry," you say to them. "I reckon I've reached the point of diminishing returns with bed rest. I can carry on as normal now, if I take it easy." You make a mental note to acquire a supply of clean bandages. "You came to check on me?" you ask Polycephaly. "Thank you, my friend… I feel quite touched."

"I have to be nice once in a while." Polycephaly strokes your head, being careful to avoid jostling your injured arm and shoulder. "I heard about what happened. I wish I had been there to help."

"Damn, me too!" Both of you laugh slightly.

"I heard about Fifty-Twenty-Two and… what they said to you. I'm sorry."

"It'll be okay, probably. Twenty-Two is the one who actually got their head caved in. I think you're allowed to be angry with someone if they do that to you." You're trying to stay breezy about it to help yourself believe it really will be okay. But will it? If you're so sure it'll be okay, why do you need to put this much effort into convincing yourself?? Oh no. You've set yourself off crying.

"Are those sad human noises?" asks Polycephaly. They shuffle a bit to allow some medics to put back some equipment.

"Yeah. Very sad."

Polycephaly gathers you up in their arms, holding you close. "Polycephaly's here for you. I've got your back."

You don't feel up to verbalising a response without dissolving into sobs, so you nuzzle against Polycephaly in what you hope is a suitably affected manner.

"I hope Twenty-Two stays friends with you," continues Polycephaly. "You two little budgies are so sweet together it's sickening." You manage to laugh slightly at that.

Polycephaly continues holding you, petting you occasionally, while the two of you talk about nothing in particular. It helps calms you down. You'd be devastated to lose Cygnus's friendship, but you haven't actually lost it yet. You don't have anyone as dear to you as Cygnus, but you do still have other buddies who could help you through it. You feel a little better, and sigh contentedly into Polycephaly's jacket.

"Is that a slightly happier human noise?" asks Polycephaly.

"It is," you reply.

"Good. Are you going to see the Imperator soon?" Polycephaly asks.

"If the Imperator asks, the Imperator gets," you say. "They haven't summoned me that I know of."

"I think the Imperator is planning to discuss something with you."

"Probably further debriefing. Thanks for the heads-up."

"I have to haul screens now. I've got places to be." Polycephaly gives you a final squeeze. "I'll see you later, little budgie. If nobody's got you, Polycephaly's got you."

"And I'm so glad. Ah'll sithee, Polycephaly."

"Ah'll sithee, Phaeton," says Polycephaly as they stand you back down on the floor. To the medics' relief, Polycephaly teleports away rather than trying to turn around and wriggle through the door again.

You munch some snacks and drink some water while the medics question you gently about your health. They're probably quite worried about you because they have no first-hand experience of human patients. And the self-healing nature of meat is probably a bit freaky to them, you reckon.

"Are you up to visiting Fifty-Twenty-Two?" asks one of the medics.

"…Do they want me there?" you ask. "They weren't very happy to see me last time."

"They did ask about you, some time after you left," says another medic. "They seem quite worried about you."

"Alright," you say. "I'll go stick my head around the door and let them see I'm still in one piece. …Oof, that was probably insensitive. Glad I said that in here and not over there."

You change your clothes, and the medics walk you to the repair bay where Cygnus is being kept. Cygnus is reconstructed enough to be sitting up on the repair bench, their head re-attached. When Cygnus doesn't immediately demand you get out, you walk over to them.

"What do I call you?" you ask.

"Phaeton…"

"No, I can't call you Phaeton; I'm Phaeton." You try to get a laugh, but Cygnus evidently isn't up for it right now.

"I'm so sorry…" Cygnus won't meet your gaze.

You step in and hold your arms out for a hug. "I'm sorry. Can you ever forgive me for hurting you?"

Cygnus hugs you fiercely, trembling.

"Argh, my shoulder canes - ease off a bit," you protest, then: "Do I call you just Fifty-Twenty-Two now? Or can I still call you Cygnus?"

"…You can. I really want you to."

"Cygnus, I missed you."

"I spoke to you so horribly…"

"You were traumatised! Cygnus, you're the one who needed your head practically rebuilt. I think that definitely gives you a pass on speaking harshly. I got lucky in comparison. Just some lacerations and a bit of muscle damage. Somehow escaped any broken bones."

"I shouldn't have spoken to you like that."

"Entirely forgiven. Hell, there's nothing to forgive. But I think you don't see it that way, so I'll forgive you anyway."

"Phaeton, what did I do to deserve you?"

"Don't sell yourself short. …Is this your new casing?" Cygnus's head-casing is a lighter grey than before and a simpler, more box-like shape. Their aerial is also absent.

"It's a temporary one, just to hold everything together. I'll get a new one the same design as my old one."

"I'm glad," you say, "I like the shape of your old one; it's much more 'you'. Can I pet your temporary head?"

"Yes," says Cygnus, "Extra gently, though."

"Of course," you say, stroking Cygnus's head. "Are we still buddies?"

"…Do you want to be?"

"Of course I fuckin' do! I said you were entirely forgiven, didn't I? Oh, Cygnus." You give Cygnus another hug, then resume stroking their head.

"You know, when you came at me with that rock - I'd never seen you looking so furious and so fearless. That must have been absolutely terrifying for the skibidi." Both of you laugh slightly at that.

"Are you going to get a new aerial or go back to being a smooth-head?" you ask, stroking where Cygnus's aerial would normally be.

"I haven't decided yet. …Oh, Phaeton." Cygnus pulls you into another hug. "I said I'm sorry, but I really am. I put you in that position where you had to attack."

"Oh hell no," you say. "The skibidi did that."

"Because I bungled the mission. I fucked up everything."

"Yes, you fucked up. But I love you anyway. Can you put it behind you?"

"…Not yet."

"Remember what you said to me once? 'This is something you have to solve, but I'll help you through it'?"

"I remember that. …Thank you, Phaeton." Cygnus finally displays a happy emoticon. Oh, it makes you glad to see!

The two of you hug some more until you're interrupted by one of the medics. "Phaeton, you are summoned by the Imperator. Are you able to get there under your own power?"

"I can manage," you confirm. "Ah'll sithee, Cygnus."

"Ah'll sithee, Phaeton."

You arrive at the Imperator's office, expecting to wait outside until the Imperator reaches a stopping point in whatever they're doing, but the door opens at your approach, held open by the Imperator's guard Fifteen-Sixty-Six. The second guard, Eleven-Fifty-Three, stands in place by the Imperator's desk.

"Permission to stand at ease so we can hug Phaeton?" asks Fifty-Three.

"Permission granted," says the Imperator, displaying a happy emoticon.

The two guards immediately step forward and make you the centre of a hug. It's as though a switch has been flipped, as they immediately transform from intimidatingly impassive to looking delighted to see you. Both of them display happy emoticons as they embrace you.

"Oh, you both give such lovely hugs," you say. "I guess that's inevitable when you work so closely with the Imperator." All four of of you, Imperator included, laugh slightly at that.

The Imperator comes out from behind their desk to deliver their own hug. "That's to say I like you and I like working with you," says the Imperator, embracing you warmly. You're pretty relieved - it seems unlikely now that they're going to demote you.

The Imperator motions for you to take a seat. They re-take their own seat at their desk, and the two guards return to their positions, standing ready.

"Phaeton," begins the Imperator. "What would it take for you to work more days at our base? Or even be stationed here full time?"

"Several things, Imperator. Let me think for a moment about them all…" you reply. "Firstly, I'd require a steady supply of potable water for drinking, cooking with and for washing with. There are other ways for me to get clean than with soap and water, but that's the easiest way." Asking for a sauna to be installed would probably be a much taller ask, after all.

The Imperator nods to show they're listening. They make notes on their keyboard.

"Secondly," you continue, "I'd need an actual toilet. And an empty skibidi shell won't suffice. Ideally I'd need more than one: one in my quarters and another near where I was working. The floor drains here are fine for pisses, but trust me, you don't want me crapping down there. That's gonna get nasty quickly."

The Imperator makes a dubious emoticon, and continues to take notes.

Third," you count off on your fingers, "I'll need food. Currently my needs are met by the hydroponic farm I keep at Base Antlia-Four, plus game I hunt in the surrounding wilderness. I can eat scavenged tinned food, but those tins will only last 5 more years, if that. I need a supply of fresh stuff long-term. And that brings me to my final point."

You wait for the Imperator to finish typing. The Imperator motions for you to continue.

"At Antlia-Four, I can freely go outside. I obviously can't do that here." You've never been outdoors while at TV Base - if you never see the outside, you can't know where the Base is. And if you don't know the location of the base, you can't give up that information under interrogation. "To move me here full time," you continue, "I would either need to move my farm here and we'd have to live with the consequences of me knowing the location of TV Base, or I'd have to have an assistant whose full-time job is to port me between here and Antlia-Four whenever I need it. I know Fifty-Twenty-Two has always been willing to help out with porting me between bases, but they of course have their own work to do. I suppose another solution would be to give me a device that lets me port myself, but what if skibidis captured me and took it?" The skibidis appear to have already stolen some form of teleport tech, it seems, but why make it easier for them?

"Exactly so. Thank you for all this information, Phaeton," says the Imperator, "I will take it into consideration. Was there anything else?"

"A few more things that would be nice to have, such as lighting that matches my visual spectrum," you say, "But nothing that affects my immediate survival. Water, food and hygiene are the big ones. Plus, I suppose you'd need to clear it with my supervisors at Antlia-Four. But I know that won't be a problem, because you're a friggin' Imperator." As you talk, you notice one of the guards (Fifty-Three this time) move from their position to the entrance door.

The Imperator displays an amused emoticon at your words. "Indeed."

Fifty-Three opens the door, to admit Cygnus. The Imperator motions for Cygnus to take a seat next to you. They do so, and you offer them a hand to hold. To your great pleasure, they accept. Cygnus is definitely friends with you again if they're holding hands. Cygnus squeezes your hand gently, then disengages so they can give the Imperator their full attention.

"Fifty-Twenty-Two…" begins the Imperator. "This is the second time you have failed a mission due to lack of preparation. This cannot continue." There's no malice in the Imperator's voice. Just the blunt statement of facts you expect from TVs.

"…Yes, Imperator," replies Cygnus.

"You're a liability in the field. I'm therefore withdrawing you from field agent duties with immediate effect. Your Base-side work continues to be exemplary, so that will be your sole avenue of work from now on."

Cygnus looks dejectedly at the floor.

"Acknowledge," says the Imperator, apparently displeased at the lack of response.

"…I acknowledge, Imperator," says Cygnus. You feel crumpled with sorrow for them - you'll have to give them extra hugs later.

"I have some other tasks for you," says the Imperator.

"Thank you, Imperator," replies Cygnus. "What would you have me do?"

"Firstly," says the Imperator, "You're still due a replacement casing. Your head already has the same geminus mechanism as mine-" (The Imperator is referring to the mechanism that lets the Imperator and the Titan detach their heads - Cygnus has an inert version.) "-which makes you an ideal test case for some prototype rockets. When the medics restore your head, I will have them install the rockets and all necessary software for you to use them."

Are you understanding this correctly? Is Cygnus going to have a detachable head like the Imperator? (Well, technically everyone has a detachable head. It's the re-attachment that's the difficult part.)

"Thank you, Imperator," says Cygnus.

"This is not a reward," says the Imperator. "I'm making you my tester for any new versions of my head-rockets and drivers the scientists develop. I expect you will enjoy the benefits of them, but this is primarily a responsibility. You will be expected to record and document their use and submit this data for the scientists."

"I accept this responsibility, Imperator."

"As you should. Secondly," continues the Imperator, "I have another responsibility to assign you. You will assist Phaeton in their capacity as my auxiliary."

Oh, you want to know where this is going!

The Imperator addresses you this time. "Phaeton, it is my understanding from your explanation that Base Antlia-Four meets your biological requirements, while our base does not."

"That's correct, Imperator," you say.

"However, I do want you to spend more work days here. I assume this is also what you would prefer."

"You're not wrong, Imperator!" You'd love to spend more than one day a week working in the Titan's engineering crew!

"I propose the following," says the Imperator, smiling at your enthusiastic response. "I will authorise the construction of an annex to this base, suitable for human habitation. Progress will undoubtedly be slow, as we have to prioritise the war offensive. Until construction is complete, Antlia-Four will remain your home base. Fifty-Twenty-Two will have the responsibility of porting you between the two bases as you need it. Fifty-Twenty-Two, I trust that withdrawing you from field duties will leave you with enough time to do this?"

Cygnus hesitates to answer. "…Not quite, Imperator."

The Imperator says: "And what if I assigned Phaeton to you one day a week? With their assistance, would you be able to complete all your tasks and still be available to be Phaeton's escort?"

You can't quite believe your luck.

"I…" says Cygnus, "…think I can make that work. Yes, Imperator."

The Imperator addresses you once more. "I am proposing that you work in the Titan's hangar three days per week, and an additional one day per week with Fifty-Twenty-Two. That leaves you two days per week to work in the Antlia-Four weapons factory, plus your one day off. Of course you will be free to move between bases as you need, so you can hunt and gather in sector Antlia-Four. Do you accept this proposal?"

"I absolutely do!" You're grinning as hard as if you'd just shat a perfect ampersand. "Thank you, my Imperator."

"Good," says the Imperator. "I am pleased, my auxiliary. Keep using the repair bay to recover if you need it, and the medics can arrange the supply drops you need. Otherwise, you can feel free to go back and recover in base Antlia-Four. I can arrange for someone to port you back if Fifty-Twenty-Two can't yet. Either way, keep Engineer Sixty-Eight updated on when you will next be available to work."

"I can't yet," confirms Cygnus. "This is a temporary casing with only short-range porting enabled."

"I suggest you both spend the rest of the day recovering," says the Imperator. I want progress updates from both of you at the end of the day tomorrow. If you have nothing further to discuss with me, both of you are dismissed."

"Thank you, Imperator," you say, getting to your feet. "I'm taking my leave. Cygnus, are you coming now?"

"Yes," says Cygnus. "Thank you, Imperator."

You and Cygnus exit the Imperator's office. "Do you need to be somewhere?" asks Cygnus. "I want to rest in my quarters until the medics call me back to the repair bay. …Would you come with me?"

"Of course," you reply. "Can you port us there or is it out of your current range?"

Cygnus pulls you into a hug for initiating a teleport. "I can handle it. Let's go."

The two of you spawn in Cygnus's quarters. Another TV is already there - you recognise them as Cygnus's friend Forty-Three-Zero-Four. Cygnus must have given them a key to their quarters, or permission to port into them.

"Hello, human," Zero-Four greets you, holding out their hand for a fist-bump. "I hear you're going by 'Phaeton' now."

"That's right," you say, fist-bumping them. "And I think I might have you to thank for that, don't I? I remember you were surprised that I didn't already have a name. And I noticed that Cygnus didn't bring up the idea of choosing a name until after I met you. So… I reckon you must have encouraged Cygnus to ask me about it. Is that what happened?"

"…It actually is." Zero-Four displays a cheery emoticon. "I have to thank you too. I had a message from the Imperator's staff earlier, informing me of Niner's fate. That was your doing, wasn't it?" Zero-Four calls Cygnus 'Niner' after the sum of their serial digits. Both you and Zero-Four gave Cygnus a nickname based on their serial, but in different ways.

"That's right."

"Thank you. I already knew, because I'm one of Niner's emergency contacts, but I appreciate that you thought of me."

Cygnus has moved to sit on their sofa. You and Zero-Four sit on either side of them so you can both cuddle your mutual friend. Cygnus slumps backwards. It's been a tiring day for them.

"How are you feeling?" asks Zero-Four. "A bit better, I hope? Seeing as you're able to leave the repair bay."

"I made such a mistake," Cygnus says quietly, sounding resigned. (You're not sure if they mean screwing up the mission or screaming at you afterwards. You're not going to ask. It would be a cruel question.) Cygnus turns their head to face Zero-Four. "Almost as stupid as letting you go."

"Oh, Niner, do not start that again," says Zero-Four. "We've got together and broken up three times. Let's not try for a forth. Also, what about your dear Phaeton?"

"Not a problem," you say. "Cygnus has two hands." The three of you laugh at that. (You're happy to hear Cygnus laugh.)

Zero-Four explains to you: "Niner and I work well as friends. But in a romantic relationship we have a tendency to amplify each other's worst traits. We're just not meant to be." Zero-Four holds Cygnus's hand. "But I'll always be there for you, Niner."

(You're not quite sure you get it. What actually is the difference between a romantic relationship and being best friends? Participants can fuck, or not fuck, in either case. And it's not a question of exclusivity, because romantic relationships can be poly and/or open. Is a relationship a romantic one simply when the participants decide it is? Oh well. It's not something you've ever been particularly arsed with.)

"I completely botched that mission," says Cygnus. "And now I've been excused field work entirely, on the Imperator's orders. I feel so useless and incompetent."

"Well, you're really not. You are just not a field agent. And neither am I," points out Zero-Four. "Neither is Phaeton. You're in good company." Zero-Four does seem lovely. You want to become better friends with them.

"Non-combatant snuggle club!" you add, cuddling harder into Cygnus. "Not everyone can be an agent. The faction's always going to need diplomats and tailors and engineers." (Zero-Four quietly buzzes their speakers in approval at your words.)

Cygnus seems a bit happier. "…Thank you, my friends. My dear friends. I'm lucky to know you both."

The three of you cuddle gently, talking softly. It'll probably take some time before Cygnus gets their confidence back, and you're surely on borrowed time for having a proper breakdown over what happened. But you have each other to help you through it, and Zero-Four will be around to help you help Cygnus. And you yourself have a confidant in your Titan, and more support in Polycephaly than you previously realised you had. You'll get through this, and so will your friends.

"I'd like to visit the Titan before I go to bed for the night," you say, "Assuming can do so without getting in the other engineers' way. Cygnus, you should come with - I saw the Titan earlier and it asked about you. Will you come along too, Zero-Four?"

"I'd like that," says Zero-Four. "It's not every day a Titan engineer invites me to the hangar." Zero-Four displays a smiling emoticon. "You're coming too, aren't you, Niner?"

"Yes," confirms Cygnus. "Zero-Four, can you port us? This little circuit I've got takes longer to recharge than I realised."

Zero-Four ends up porting Cygnus while you walk there. Zero-Four isn't confident in their ability to port all three of you at once. You arrive at the hangar entrance and meet the two TVs - Zero-Four is gently hugging Cygnus and allowing Cygnus to lean on them. How sweet. You sign the three of you into the hangar - as a member of the Titan's engineering team (and as an auxiliary to the TV faction), you have authority to do so.

You spot engineer Twelve, the deputy lead, nearby, and flag them down. They give you a brief hug. (You've noticed that the engineering team has become a lot more cuddly since you joined. You're rather pleased that that's your influence!)

"Phaeton, I'm glad to see you walking around," says Twelve. "Twenty-Two, you as well. New head?"

"Temporary one," says Cygnus. "You didn't think I'd pick out something as un-stylish as this, did you?"

"Certainly not," says Zero-Four, displaying an amused emoticon. "I know I taught them better than that." Zero-Four is one of the faction's tailors - you remember them telling you that they designed the Titan's current outfit.

"Zero-Four," Twelve nods to them to acknowledge their presence, then addresses the three of you. "I take it you're all here to see the Titan?"

"Was the great pyramid of Cheops originally 481 feet high?" you ask.

"…Was it?"

"Yeah, it was."

"…Let's go." Twelve leads you to a walkway nearer the Titan. "Titan!" they call out. "You have visitors."

The Titan turns its main screen to face you all, and brings in its hands near the walkway. It seems relieved to see you and Cygnus.

"Fifty-Twenty-Two, I am glad to see you in better condition," says the Titan. "Phaeton, my engineer, I am glad to see you again too. Forty-Three-Zero-Four, it's been a while. Here to admire your handiwork? I'd give you a twirl, but there's not enough space in the hangar." The Titan brings a hand onto the walkway, and you hug one of its fingers. At your encouragement, Cygnus and Zero-Four do the same, hugging a finger each.

"Fifty-Twenty-Two, would you let me hold you?" asks the Titan. Cygnus nods their assent. You and Zero-Four disengage so that the Titan can do that.

The Titan brackets Cygnus front and back between its palms, giving them a hand-hug. "Twenty-Two, I am so sorry," says the Titan softly. "I know how it feels, to have your screen smashed. Oh, my dear friend, I know how it feels. …And we've both had our screens broken by the actions of a manipulator skibidi."

'By someone who was meant to be your friend', you think. You're grateful the Titan didn't say that part out loud.

"Would it do you some good to spend the night here?" asks the Titan. "My core chamber is available."

"I would like that, Titan," says Cygnus, stroking the Titan's hand. (You do love the sight of that!)

"Aw yess, core snuggle club!" you say. The Titan displays a smiling emoticon at your words.

The Titan intercepts an engineer - you realise it's Sixty-Eight, the head of the engineering crew. "Sixty-Eight, put the word out," says the Titan, "Core sleepover tonight, open to anyone who wants to join in." The Titan strokes Cygnus gently as they speak.

"Thank you, Titan," says the lead engineer. "I'll make sure everyone knows." The engineer gets your attention, then beckons you and Zero-Four closer so they can address the pair of you as well as Cygnus. "We have a couple of hours remaining before we close down for the night. You're welcome to hang out here until then - Phaeton will be able to advise you on how to keep out of the way." (You feel proud that Engineer Sixty-Eight truly acknowledges you as a member of the engineering team.) "Feel free to leave and take care of anything you need to before you return for the night. I'll advise security that you're allowed to enter freely tonight."

"Thank you, Sixty-Eight," replies Zero-Four. Cygnus nods half-heartedly, relaxing into the Titan's hug.

"I'll need to duck out for a bit to take care of organic stuff," you say. "Zero-Four, you've been to Antlia-Four Base before - are you happy to port me back there for a bit?"

"Of course," replies Zero-Four. "Niner - Phaeton and I are stepping out for a bit," Zero-Four says to Cygnus. "Do you need us to bring you anything?"

"…I am fine," says Cygnus. They look pleasantly blissed-out, leaning into the Titan's hand in front of them and enjoying the stroking on their back. (Heh - Cygnus is literally in good hands.)

You and Zero-Four give Cygnus brief headpats, then the pair of you exit the hangar so that Zero-Four can port you back to Antlia-Four. You have to navigate several crowds of concerned colleagues who have been anxiously awaiting your return - word must have got around that you'd been injured and were recovering at TV Base. The sight of your bandaged arm causes some consternation, as well as the stiff way you're carrying yourself. Luckily you're saved from too much delay by Zero-Four's presence - many of the other units tend to find TVs intimidating and are in slight awe of your ability to carry yourself among them with such aplomb.

You give Zero-Four a brief tour of your quarters, and leave them to admire your personal workshop while you avail yourself of the bathroom (nice to use a flush toilet again - good thing codeine bungs you up and you hadn't really needed to use one until now) and pack some useful items. Zero-Four takes some time to familiarise themself with the location of your quarters so they can find the void-pathway back here if they need to. Once you're ready to depart, they take you back to TV Base.

You and Zero-Four head back to the Titan's hangar and look for Cygnus. You find out that they've already retired to the Titan's core chamber for the night - the Titan ferries you in on its hand to join Cygnus, along with a few other engineers who have finished their tasks for the evening. You and Zero-Four rejoin Cygnus and start a cuddle-pile.

"Do you remember when we first did this?" you ask Cygnus.

"How could I forget?" replies Cygnus, holding your hand. The first time you'd been in the Titan's core chamber was to help perform maintenance on it, thanks to your organic ability to no-sell magnetic fields that would have required the TV engineers to step out and de-gauss. You, Cygnus and the engineering team had taken the opportunity to enjoy a cuddle-pile in the core chamber together once maintenance was complete. Now you're doing it again - this time with a blossoming friendship with Cygnus and a budding one forming between you and several of the engineers, as well as your new friend Zero-Four. You drift off into a pleasant snooze, soothed by the sounds of the Titan's workings, the warm presence of so many robot bodies, and the distant sounds of the engineers still at work in the hangar.

Your dozing is interrupted by a metallic clanging and banging at the core entrance, accompanied by some annoyed static grunts of protest from the Titan. You look up to see what's causing it, and see Polycephaly squeezing their way into the core chamber, taking care not to bash their sub-screens. The Titan obligingly dilates the aperture-iris open to its fullest extent to aid Polycephaly's ingress.

Polycephaly crawls in on hands and knees, scooting along. "Hello, little budgies," they say. "Oh, hello Zero-Four." (You presume Zero-Four and their staff designed Polycephaly's outfit as well as the Titan's.) "Evening, various engineers." Polycephaly sits next to you, Cygnus and Zero-Four, then reclines against the core chamber wall, albeit curled up like a shrimp - their height exceeds the core's diameter. Polycephaly unfurls their screens like a human stretching their arms in a big yawn, then reel them back in.

"It's nice to see you again, Polycephaly," you say, to which the big unit pets your head.

A few more engineers enter the Titan's core chamber, ferried in by the Titan's hands. The engineers look surprised at the lack of space caused by Polycephaly's presence - they aren't sure how to proceed.

"Bring it in," says Polycephaly, waving the engineers in. Well then! Polycephaly is clearly fine with being part of a snuggle club. The engineers begin piling in, aided by Polycephaly picking them up and moving them to wherever there's space. You, Zero-Four and Cygnus end up in Polycephaly's lap, which you suppose was completely intentional on their part.

"Don't get used to this," says Polycephaly. "I told you I have to be nice once a while."

"I think you've absolutely fulfilled your 'nice' quota for the week," you say. "This is lovely." Polycephaly is a bit firmer than what you'd normally choose to sleep on, but there's something very nice indeed about a sleeping surface that can hug back.

"Are you all content in there?" asks the Titan.

"And how!" you say, lifting your head off Polycephaly briefly, before settling back down. Most occupants of the core chamber chime in with similar responses.

"Good," replies the Titan. "You're all packed in there a bit tighter than I'm used to… but it's quite pleasant. Goodnight, all."

You murmur goodnight, along with the TVs around you. Time for a bit more rest. Rest sounds good.