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English
Series:
Part 5 of Oil Stains From Another Dimension
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Published:
2023-09-10
Words:
1,848
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1/1
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37
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214
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The World Through Stygian Flow

Summary:

As gentle as he is with a newborn, Eclipse cradles the object. His hands tremble as hard as they did the first time he had received it from ‘Sun’ a week ago. The existence of the object felt like a dream to him. Eclipse feels oil brimming in his eyes when the solid object does not fade away.

A self-repairing software. Belonging to ‘Sun.’ Copy and paste.

(“It’s better than him not existing.”)

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Eclipse appreciates everything that ‘Sun’ has done for them in the past few months. Willingness to visit, accompany them, and even listen to Eclipse’s rambling about the useless mechanical stuff that he doubts ‘Sun’ would understand. (Especially not with how distracted he was during the last few visits.)

But, he hates ‘Sun’s’ gift. Specifically, the last gift he gave to Eclipse a week ago.

(A gift that was too good to be true. But unlike the last time, it is truly true.)

Well, Eclipse is more conflicted rather than hate. 

Said gift that had thrown him into a metaphorical emotional storm lays on the pristine security desk. A small blue flash drive covered in Moon's yellow stars. It is small enough to easily be lost if Eclipse were to ever misplace the object. (And that would be Fate’s cruelest joke on Eclipse’s life.)

As gentle as he is with a newborn, Eclipse cradles the object. His hands tremble as hard as they did the first time he had received it from ‘Sun’ a week ago. The existence of the object felt like a dream to him. Eclipse feels oil brimming in his eyes when the solid object does not fade away. 

A self-repairing software. Belonging to ‘Sun.’ Copy and paste. 

One that neither Moon nor Sun had in this dimension.

A similar software saved ‘Moon’ when their Killcode was pulled out from ‘Moon.’ The line of codes that fill in missing or damaged code in ‘Moon.’ It reset his memory, but…

( “It’s better than him not existing.” )

If it goes well, if the program works as it is supposed to, his brother will be fixed. 

His Sun will wake up.

Yes, he will lose his memories, but who cares? He, and Moon, and Sun can rebuild all those lost memories. 

Sun is going to exist in their lives again, and is it not the most important thing?

All Eclipse needs to do is talk to Moon about it.

Eclipse takes a deep virtual breath and tilts his head to their tower. He can hear the loud frustrated grunts of his brother. (No tools had been thrown ever since ‘Sun’ started visiting.) 

And that is the problem, is it not? Eclipse cannot talk to Moon. Eclipse is scared to talk to Moon. When ‘Sun’ was with them, it felt natural to talk between the three of them. But alone, now that is scary.

Why? Eclipse is not sure. 

(He knows why.)

(He fears the sight of oil stains. He fears looking at his brother's lifeless body.)

(He fears the reminder that everything is his fault.)

(He fears that Moon will turn and confirm that it is his fault.)

His eyes stare at the flash drive in his hands. Moon will surely listen to him if Eclipse puts on a serious tone. After all, Eclipse is his brother, is he not?

(Their relationship had been estranged with Sun’s absence, but it will surely be fixed once Sun is back.)

(If they can bring back Sun using this program, then Sun can bring Moon back.)

(They will all be happy again.)

Taking one final virtual breath, Eclipse turns on his heels and walks to the teleporter. 

“Moon?”

An affirmative grunt replies to Eclipse’s call. 

“Can I come in?”

“No.”

“We need to talk.”

Eclipse waits. The sound of tapping keyboards and whirring fans fills the air before his brother permits him. Hopeful, Eclipse slowly crawls through the small tunnel.

The room is as messy as the last time Eclipse saw it. Oil stains and cables create safety hazards, blueprints turn the bed into a table, and sticky notes and strings become the new wallpaper. At the right corner of the room, Eclipse can see Moon’s computer attached to the numerous cables hanging to the ceilings. And to the left of it, he can see his comatose brother. 

Sun’s body is sitting on a metal chair. LED eyes lifeless staring down at nothing. Cables of different sizes emerged from his back and head; some led to the bigger cables on the ground and some others connected to the computer.

No matter how many times Eclipse had seen Sun, the sight still sent a jolt of electricity down his body. 

Moon, on the other hand, is standing in front of his computer. His back facing Eclipse while his eyes focus on the computer screen. Green lines of code fly past the screen at a speed that Eclipse cannot follow. 

“What is it?” Moon says with eyes still stuck on the screen, “I’m a little busy.”

(He is always busy.)

Eclipse rolls his eyes and walks a little closer to his brother. Like second nature, his hands reach for his rays. Metal against metal creates a symphony with the sound of keyboard typing.

“I want to talk about Sun.” Moon stops typing. “I have an idea how to-”

“I told you not to worry about it.” Eclipse flinches at the interruption. Moon turns his body fully around to face his brother. Red LED burning holes into Eclipse. “I’ll fix him.”

“Well, it’s been years since he is in this state, and you haven’t fixed him yet. I just want to-”

“I don’t need your help.” Eclipse flinches at the metal creaking. Moon has a strong grip on the side of the arcade-machine-turned-computer. That side is now dented. “You don’t need to worry about it. I just need time.”

“Well, how much more do you need? Months? Years? A decade? Wait until Fazbear decommission us?” Eclipse glares at his brother, “You couldn’t fix him during all these years, maybe it’s time for us to get some outside help.”

“From who? Monty? I doubt that self-absorbed alligator would-” Moon’s eyes landed on the palm of Eclipse’s hand. A small blue object covered in yellow stars, his trademark look. Red eyes slowly find glowing white ones, and they glower. “Where did you get that flash drive?”

“It was from Sun. Like, the other dimension's Sun. Their Moon said that-”

“The other Moon?”

“Yes. The other Moon said that the program inside-”

“You trusted the other Moon. But, you doubted me?”

Eclipse tugs at his ray harder. “No! No, it’s just that-”

Moon's hand thumps against his computer’s side, denting the poor device further. Red LED let loose anger and betrayal to poorly hide the hurt and crippling self-worth underneath it. “Then why did you have that flash drive? Why did you not trust me when I said I’ll fix Sun? I made progress here!” 

Progress?

Maybe, there is some progress that Eclipse could not see. Maybe, there is some miniscule amount of progress that Eclipse cannot see with his eyes. Maybe, there is some truth in Moon’s delusion.

Or maybe, Moon is just delusional. 

Who is he kidding? 

Moon is delusional. There was zero progress made in the past years. If there had been progress, Moon would not have been getting more and more frustrated over time. There would have been less and less oil on the floor of Moon's room every time Eclipse cleaned them. Sun’s show would have lasted longer and longer with every curtain call. 

Yet, none of those things happen. 

Eclipse knows Moon is delusional. Moon knows that he is delusional.

(Eclipse wants to blame Moon’s ‘death’ for that, but he cannot fool himself. It was not Moon’s trauma to blame, it was his ego to blame. Moon’s ego causes him to fall into this delusion.)

“Fine, yes. I doubt you. And quit lying to yourself about making progress or whatever. There is no progress, you are not any closer to fixing Sun.” Eclipse pulls the flash drive into his brother's view. “If we give the other Moon’s plan a shot, then maybe we can finally make progress. We can finally get closer to fixing Sun.”

The embers in Moon’s eyes dim a little and it hides itself from the white glow. Silence hung between the two, filled only with the sound of cooling fans in their respective bodies. Eclipse is about to continue speaking when Moon cuts him off.

“Get out.”

“What?”

“GET OUT!”

“No! You had to listen! This thing has Sun’s-”

“I DON’T CARE! GET OUT OF MY ROOM!”

Neither of the brothers notices Moon’s hand hovering over the tools. Neither of the two notices Moon’s hand grasping the object. Neither of them noticed when the object flew through the room.

Both noticed when the object made contact. 

Moon heard the loud crack. Eclipse felt flashing hot pain.

And when the ringing in his head silenced, Eclipse's eyes fell to the object on the floor: a wrench tainted by oil.

(Not Sun’s, his oil. Eclipse’s oil.)

There is a moment of silence between the two. Blazing rage put out by waves of shame and glowing determination hid away in the shadows of fear. One animatronic free falling into the pit of guilt and the other is being sucked into a storm of emotional distress.

“You,” Eclipse feels his voice glitching out, “hit me. With a wrench.”

Eclipse knows that the Moon standing in front of him is not the same as the Moon that pulled him out of Sun’s head. This Moon is more aggressive, more elaborate, and more focused on, or rather obsessed with, fixing Sun. Yet, he had hope. 

Eclipse had hope that even with only his memory, Moon would still see him as his brother. Moon would never betray him. Moon still cares about him as much as Eclipse cares about Moon. 

The hope kept Eclipse going. It kept him going through tough days as a mechanic, kept him going when facing a bunch of rowdy children, and kept him going despite the cold shoulder Moon threw him. Like a single iron fence at the edge of a cliff, that hope stopped him from walking straight down to the dark abyss.

That hope cracked when Eclipse saw the wrench. It fell apart when Eclipse reached up to his faceplate. It crumbled to dust when he pulled away his hand to see oil staining his fingertips. 

And he walked over the edge of the cliff when he realized Moon had hurt him. 

Onyx substance pools in the corner of Eclipse’s eyes and blurring his sight. He can see his brother reaching out to him. He can hear the trembles in his voice as Moon calls out to him. Desperately.

Just like the Stygian liquid covering his sight, Eclipse blocks it out. 

Eclipse turns on his heel, gasping for air that he never needed, and clumsily crawls out of the small tunnel.

Then, he ran.

He ran from Moon’s room. He ran from their tower. He ran from the voices calling out to him. He ran past a small animatronic. He ran out of their daycare. Eclipse ran away, down the darkest hallways, following the silence, until only echoes of his footsteps filled the air. 

And when he stops, he lets himself crumble.

(Crumble like his faceplate had when the wrench hit him.)

(Meltdown like the oil from his wound.)

(Shatter like the hope he had for his brother.)

Notes:

Hey guys! I hope you enjoy the chapter!

I am super excited for this chapter. I really do hope a lot of you will cry.

Anyway, feel free to comment about your opinion and questions! I will try to respond to them before next Sunday.

See you next Sunday!

P.S. I made a new tumblr account! (@cimoris) Go shout at me there!

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