Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Strangely, the weather was relatively calm for the inhabitants of Forsaken. Without many shocking changes or interest. It was monotonous, but it was better than going crazy in one's own head.

Everyone performed and repeated the same routine actions: Wake up, get ready, have coffee, talk to someone (or not), then wait — preparing for the next matches. Wins or losses, it all ended in the same repetitive and uninteresting scenario. It was common agreement that they were bored as hell, but they didn't have much choice. This was what they were forced to do, after all, so there was no point in complaining. It was a waste of time. 

Thinking of things to do, they searched for some form of entertainment to spend some time together. Dusekkar agreed and said it would help keep them busy and keep them from losing their sanity, so with that in mind, they would look for some possible activity to keep themselves occupied. And, luckily for them, they had the slot machines and games of chance. Even if that didn't help much with the gambler's addiction, at least they could entertain themselves with something.

Back to the current situation, the cabin was currently quite quiet. Huh, I wonder what's going on.

The cabin's eternal fireplace crackled in the background, its mesmerizing dance echoing the dry crackling of the wood. The crackling was the only discernible sound in the eerily quiet and uninhabited setting. There was no conversation, no footsteps, not even Shedletsky or Chance's loud, irritating laughter. It was a strange and absolute silence.

The Drakobloxxer's head – hanging from a wooden plaque above the slope – was staring straight into the middle of the room, staring intently at that specific spot. If one were creative enough, could imagine him looking curiously in that direction. Wondering where they were.

As if a response from the universe, a piercing buzz shattered the silence of the empty cabin, distorting reality, followed by a faint light. But then it grew and grew — the blinding light overshadowed the entire place, including the light of the flames on the slope, which fought it and surrendered to the mysterious light, seemingly ceasing its movements. Everything stopped, as if everything stopped to see what would happen, curiously.

What was silent slowly turned into movement and sound. Voices and footsteps.

Emerging with a certain family group: the survivors reappear from the light in the blink of an eye, returning from a long and successful game. The scene seemed to brighten immediately, as people began to fill the place with smiles and laughter. They seemed pleased with today's outcome, which was a rare sight to see. An unusual turnaround, and a welcome satisfaction that softened all tense and somber moments for a moment. They returned to their seats and chatted loudly between laughs and giggles. They were genuinely happy, as not even Noob or Taph stopped lifting their feet from the ground, practically jumping around with joy. Taph seemed to fly between the steps on the oak wood.

It was lovely.

"Man, did you see how Guest parried that last attack? It was incredible! If it weren't for that, he would have been dead at the last moment." Chance laughed euphorically, approaching the soldier and pulling him with one arm to his side. His smile spread even wider when he saw Guest smile, embarrassed but sensing the gambler's cheerful spirit.

"No way, if it weren't for your aim and Shed's stunning, I wouldn't have had time to protect him in time. You guys did a good job together." Chance laughs even harder and Shedletsky, hearing his name being glorified, raises his wings proudly, chest puffed out and a bright smile full of teeth. His hand hovers over his chest in a fist, like a soldier declaring his honor.

"Pfft no need to say, It was nothing! I'm definitely still good at what I do. But I thank my good friends Builder and Matt for providing me with support, 1x1x1x1 really wasn't taking it easy today, he's probably getting rusty~" Shedletsky doesn't stop mocking the hate creation, his playful smile never leaving his face and drawing more chuckles from the group. His friends seemed to smile at Shedletsky fondly, thanking him and telling him it was nothing.

"Come on, y'all. Everyone did a good job. Everyone did their part, and that's why we made this a great success." Builderman's calm, deep voice joins the conversation, drawing attention to himself. They agree with the elder; after all, everyone did their respective jobs with excellence and a good team effort. This was something to be appreciated: after so long with thousands of reasons to get discouraged and give up, they still did it. This called for some kind of celebration! But what exactly?

They thought, no ideas in mind. Chance suggested his games as always, but they wanted something new. Something different and interesting to spend the night together. Out of eight thinking heads, no idea came to mind. That was difficult.

That's when Noob had a brilliant idea and quickly walked to the kitchen without saying a word. The rest of the group was confused by the sudden rush, and all they could do was wait. Leaving them to wonder what Noob would bring. After all, we know there aren't many things here. What could it be?

After a while, Noob comes out of the kitchen, walking this time, carrying something in his belongings. This raises more questions and curiosity among the group of survivors.

What Noob showed them drew a chorus of gasps of surprise, and smiles grew again on their faces.

They were beer cans, in a large quantity, stored somewhere Noob had found in a hidden attic. They asked where they came from, and he just shook his head, saying he didn't know where or why they had appeared either; he'd just kept them and waited for the right occasion to open them. And that WAS the right occasion. Everyone celebrated and thanked Noob for his incredible discovery. Elliot, for once, said he'd make the food to accompany them during the drinks show, imagining it would be a long night full of games. He was already rolling up his sleeves when the group's enthusiasm seemed to grow even more, eager for the long night. With that cue, he immediately went to work in the kitchen. Everyone sits on the chairs and talks - It was party day.

Today would be amazing! Everyone had it in mind.

Minus one. One didn't think that, or even did he imagine what was happening in the main cabin.

007n7 lets out a long, heavy sigh, uneasy with the silence of his own cabin. His cabin was unsurprisingly far from the other survivors' cabins. Everyone wasn't comfortable enough to keep him close, and that was a compromise. Even he thought it would be good to stay away from the other survivors. Even if his heart ached, he would be okay. He deserved it after all.

He let out a grunt of boredom; he was completely bored, holy Telamon! There was nothing to do in his own room, and he couldn't think of anything interesting to do. Clean his room? Everything was tidy; he cleaned it every day to keep himself busy, so there was no need for cleaning. Mess with the c00lgui? He'd tried that many times; it was limited, and he couldn't do anything. Spectre even removed the mini-games he'd programmed there in case he ran out of things to do.

Damn Spectre.

He thought again: Make food? Come to think of it, he was a little hungry, but he was too lazy to do that. Wait…

What time was it? He quickly activated his palm-sized c00lgui and looked at the corner of the screen. It was late, and the round he'd missed had probably already ended. So, the rest of the group had probably already returned to the main cabin.

And Elliot was probably already preparing food for everyone to eat before bed. As he always did after their cat-and-mouse games.

007n7 admired Elliot's effort.

He could feel his stomach rumbling just imagining the food being prepared; he really needed to get up and get something to eat. Being stuck in his own room wasn't helping matters, after all.

He got out of bed and stretched, his back aching a bit after being still for so long. The bed wasn't the most comfortable. He walked slowly down the stairs and out of the cabin. He felt the cold air immediately embrace his body, urging him to hurry to the next cabin. It was warmer, and he could hear voices from far away through the walls. They must be having fun there.

Quickly, he quietly entered the door, not wanting anyone to see him and cause an awkward moment between them. He refused to ruin their fun time with his mere presence. He would simply walk into the kitchen, grab his essentials, and slip out of there quietly. A simple plan; nothing could go wrong.

He'd done this often, after all. It wouldn't be any different, he figured.

Looking closer, he could see that most of them were in the game room, where they were chatting and playing pool. Perfect, this was his chance. He could slip into the kitchen without any problems.

Once he thought the coast was clear, he ran into the kitchen and quickly headed for the refrigerator, paying little attention to his surroundings. Thinking the kitchen was empty and quite quiet.

As he rummaged through the back of the refrigerator, he didn't notice a movement behind him, seemingly distracted and unaware of the intruder in his kitchen. He was too focused on the pizza dough, which he was turning in his hands with skill and a precise balance. A culinary spectacle that many Italians would be envious of not having.

007n7 grabbed what he was looking for and walked away from the refrigerator, still with his back to it, not paying attention to what was behind him. He realized too late when he bumped into the person and did what was in his hands fall to the ground with a very loud noise.

He lets out an "Oh shi-" while pizza dough and bodies fall to the ground with a loud thud and dirt, leaving both men stunned from the fall.

Elliot, after feeling someone get on top of him, quickly left the place and went to apologize, only to stop on the way and look properly at who was sitting on the floor with a package of hamburger and can of soda. His apologetic expression turned into a 360-degree frown, his gaze seeming to burn 007n7 right there.

"You. What are you doing here? Can't you see I'm busy?" Elliot dictated, irritation seeping through every word. He'd been making a good pizza here, and now he'd have to do it all over again!

"Sorry- I-I didn't see you were in the kitchen. I just came to get food because I was hungry and– okay I'll leave you alone, sorry." 007n7 gave up halfway through his excuse and picked up his things from the floor. He looked guiltily at the dough that had once been being prepared, dirty and spoiled on the floor.

The pizza maker sighed with his hand on the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed as if he didn't want to look at him anymore or he would send him away. He watched the father desperately pick up items from the floor and then apologize once more, ready to run from the kitchen without wanting to disturb Elliot anymore – only to be stopped by him.

"Hey. Wait a sec."

007n7 turned quickly, surprised. His hands awkwardly clutched the snack to his chest. He questioned in confusion.

"W-what? Something wrong?"

Elliot looks at him once more, and lets out an audible sigh. 007n7's ears perked up.

"If... you're hungry. Ask first. I'll save you some pizza."

007n7 is amazed. He blinks a few times. Gives a crooked but sincere smile.

"...Thank you, Elliot."

And ran out of the kitchen without another word. Elliot snorted (secretly amused) going back to work remaking the dough and discarding what was on the floor. looked one last time at the door he had left through. Thoughtful.

(Strange guy...)

And so the night continued. Both in opposite directions, both in completely different scenarios. Between the distant silence of the empty, lonely house and the contagious warmth of the full, lively house. This would continue and remain the case for the rest of the life of that hidden and godforsaken place.

Nothing would change. It will always remain this way.

They believe it and have buried it deep in their minds.

...

Or so they thought.

"...Uuuhhg my head hurts..." Someone complains. Someone hits a beer can on the floor while still disoriented, causing the empty can to roll across the room.

The room was a mess.

Empty beer cans were scattered everywhere, a lot of them were grouped under the tables and some on top of it, someone tried to stack them into towers and spoke miserably. Dirty dishes were scattered on the pool tables, and no one seemed to notice the Chance's shoes hanging from the living room lamp. They were tied in knots with shoelace string and thrown at it. How the hell did that get there?

The floor looked far worse than many a teenage party in the prime of life.

Chance was asleep, clinging to one of his slot machines upstairs. He was lying incredibly uncomfortable on the floor, but he didn't seem to mind the awkward, uneven position (That's going to be a real pain in the back later.) Looking stupidly happy, smiling at something he was dreaming about. Coin stuck to forehead. Shedletsky was sleeping at the table in the main hall, with his face buried in one of the bowls of what looked like chicken and french fries. His loud snoring was nothing compared to the two people in the main cabin room.

Lying sprawled out on the sofa with their mouths open and snoring shockingly loudly. There were Builderman and Guest, lying with their arms outstretched, one leaning against the corner of the sofa, his head tilted upward. Another one lying on the floor of the sofa, looking quite comfortable there.

Taph slept upside down at the top of the stairs like a poorly trained bat. Dusekkar was leaning against the bookcase near the slope, sitting on the floor. It was still floating a few inches off the ground, but the head was tilted to the side and using the case for support. Elliot, his uniform wrinkled and disheveled, used the dining room chairs as a makeshift bed. His visor hung carefully on one of them. The only thing that was thought of and successfully completed that night.

Two time was nestled at the foot of the stairs, curled up against his own cold body like a sleeping cat. Sighing slowly without making a sound. They are the quietest of the group, even when sleeping, ironically. And Noob, who was wrapped in a blanket, seemed to be surrounded by several cans around him. Like a can cult or something. One of the cans had moved when he shifted and turned over to the other side to stretch better. But, strangely enough, the blanket seems to be... bigger. But he was too tired to notice.

The rising of the "non-sun" brought an eerie silence. The fire in the fire crackled low, and something seemed… wrong.

Very wrong.

Shedletsky was the first to wake. He slowly opened his eyes and lifted his head from the bowl. Stretching—and stopped. The table was cold beneath him, chirping at the contact. His paws clenched and returned to where they had been, where it was warmer and more comfortable. Wait... Paws? He blinked, lifting them.

Yellow-orange, fuzzy, tiny. The world seemed gigantic around him.

"...meow?" It came out, unintentionally.

He froze, his fur bristling, his tail stiffening into a straight line. He tried to say "no," but his mouth only responded with another meow.

"Oh no, oh no, no no no..." He ran to the reflection of the metal bowl, now lying on the floor. And there it was: a short-haired cat, with distinctive spots all over, and feline eyes staring at each other, wide with fear and shock.

“(…At least I’m still handsome.)”

From upstairs, Chance opened his eyes after hearing a loud, clanging sound as a metal bowl fell to the floor. This slowly woke a few people from their sleep.

He tried to stretch, moving away from the vending machines, but fell awkwardly to the side, waking up with a start. He looked at his gray, striped paws and his short, twitching tail.

"...Man. I think I drank too much. Or this is a really crazy dream." He saw the coin that had fallen from his head and tried to pick it up, but it seemed enormous, equal to the size of his soft paw. "I... what the hell— did I turn into a cat? "

Elliot grunted (growled) from his chair and turned, only to fall sideways. And then standing up. His fur stood on end in surprise, and his body elongated, a reflex he couldn't even fathom. He simply stood in the same position he'd fallen from. And his golden eyes stared at the others in disbelief.

"No. It can't be." He tried to put his paw to his head, but only managed to scratch his own ear. "...Someone tell me it's just a hangover."

It wasn't, it was too real to be just a hangover.

Noob leaped and stumbled out of the blanket, now knowing why the blanket was so big. A bright yellow cat with wide eyes. "M-MEOW! (W-WHAT HAPPENED TO ME?!)" He screamed, and ran under the table, hiding with his paws on his head.

Guest woke with a military instinct. He leaped to his feet on the sofa, but landed on all fours. His blue-gray fur stood on end, the scar still marked under his right one. Meowing softly, he growled low. "Meow... Mrrrrow." (What... It must be just another one of the creator of this hell's games.'' A feline sound, but the posture was that of a soldier (cat) on alert.

They stood on alert, still shocked, when Taph tumbled down the stairs, landing belly-first on the ground. His fur was also standing on end, and his body was stretched, tense. He didn't make a sound after that, just stood there. Two Time, who was closest to the stairs, just stretched and looked at their paws, letting out an "Oh!" of surprise. They figured it was the work of their god Spawn, so they accepted it and calmed down faster than the others.

Dussekar, finally, floated. Or rather... tried to. In his new feline body, but strangely, without his pumpkin head or cloak. It seemed quite strange to see him without them, almost unrecognizable. He raised his head, sighing indolently:

"It seems the being of this world had something else planned for us while we were asleep. While we were distracted and with our guard down, as they always did.''

All of this was nothing more than meowing.

Builderman, who had been looking at everyone, sat on the floor. He was also confused, but with a firm posture. He thought to himself: He seems bored with the same games just like us. But why this? Why cats in the first place?

Panic took over. Cats running (or trying to, due to the instability of standing on their own two feet) in circles, sharp claws in panic, hysterical meows echoing. Shedletsky trying to walk to the living room without falling, Chance chasing his own coin that fell from the top floor, Elliot and Dusekkar trying to calm them down, Builderman trying to impose order and failing, Noob whining under the table, Taph sitting in the same place frozen in fear, and Two Time.

And then, the wood creaked. All heads turned toward the soft sound of wood creaking under slow, careful footsteps. As if afraid of being discovered entering the main cabin. Their tails immediately rose in alertness.

007n7 appeared, holding his coffee mug. His glasses were askew, his shirt slightly wrinkled, his eyes sunken from insomnia. He froze in the doorway.

No one was in the room, which was strangely empty. No one was at the table where everyone drank coffee at these times, and the silence was deafening.

His colleagues had disappeared.

And in their place… a litter of strange cats stared at him, each with a peculiar glow.

"...What the..." He rubbed his eyes. Thinking it was delirium. They hadn't disappeared, no. "What the—"

A collective meow echoed in response.

007n7 took a step back, his expression somewhere between shock and exasperation.

"Woah, okay. Uh, how the hell did you guys get here? Where is everyone?" He looked around, but there was no one. Just the felines, all fixed on him. "If this is a joke, Shedletsky, congratulations. I'm not buying it."

The orange cat slapped its tail on the ground in disdain.

007n7 sighed, slumping his shoulders.

"…Okay." He took a sip of his bitter coffee. "Okay. Fine, looks like I'm babysitting you guys now. Until I figure out what's going on."

And the cats, even in panic, couldn't help but come closer.

Chapter Text

Everyone had disappeared.

They weren't in the game room, they weren't on the top floor, and they weren't even in the cabins. He knocked on each door and was met with silence — no voices, no footsteps, no doors creaking open. Every room was empty; he prowled everywhere, desperate to find someone. Ultimately, he was completely alone, and his mind raced with unanswered questions while a pack of cats chased him, looking worried and uncertain.

"Why is there no one here? What happened to everyone? Did a round start early and I didn't participate?" He sighed, increasingly distressed, as he sat on the sofa in the center of the main cabin, his hand resting on his head while the other held his glasses just enough to keep them from falling.

His mind raced; so many things could have happened while he was gone. If they were in a match, why hadn't he joined? They would have returned by now. Was this just another test? One of the Spectre's twisted games to torment them once more? Why him, of all people?

Giving up on his search for the missing members, he threw himself onto the sofa in the main room with a huff. He hadn't realized how tired he'd become from all the running around, and with a heavy sigh, 007n7 propped an elbow on the arm of the sofa and rested his head on his hand. The other hand held his glasses, which were slipping down the bridge of his nose with perspiration. He pressed them to his face, rubbing his tired eyes.

What would he do now? How would he act in a situation like this?

raising his slightly heavy gaze upwards, he comes face to face with the cats that were in front of him.

He was startled, pulling back at the sight of them surrounding him on the couch, like a mini group meeting, but for cats.

He was so busy looking for his group that for a moment he forgot he was with them, and it was at that moment that 007n7 realized he wasn't completely alone. He was with these... furballs.

Huh. One, two, three... eight, nine. There were nine cats there, all different sizes, fur unkempt or well-groomed, and a variety of colors. They were standing there in a row, staring at him like a beacon in the endless night.

After calming down and relaxing his shoulders, he returned the same look to them, and they remained seated in a circle, as if waiting for him to say something. Anything. 007n7 did him that favor.

"You guys, I don't know where you came from. But if there's one thing that's stranger than seeing your team disappear overnight, it's being surrounded and stared at by a bunch of cats." 007n7 commented as he looked at a specific cat that was in front of him. It seemed to be more confused than him, just watching the man sitting there.

The black one with pointy ears blinked slowly. Another, a sharp-eyed gray one, tilted its head to the side as if judging his words.

"...come on, it seems like you guys are more confused than me."

The cats looked at each other and then at him, as if they wanted to say something, but they remained silent.

007n7 leans back against the couch, his hand still resting over his eyes, as if the mere situation is physically tiring him. He lets out a frustrated, defeated groan. "Man, I have no idea what I'm going to do now..."

The conversation died, swallowed by the silence of the room.

One of the cats, interested in 007n7's disaster, jumps onto the couch and sits beside him. The sudden weight catches 007n7's attention, and he looks away with a soft, confused "Hm?" It was one of the cats from this morning, with long, gray fur.

Overcome with curiosity and nothing to do, he begins to get to know his new feline companions better, who also seem lost, just like him. This gives him a little empathy for the little creatures. Carefully, he picks up the gray cat and observes him more closely, the kitten letting out a small, confused meow in response.

It had long fur, an elegant, elongated shape. It had a long snout and large, bright yellow eyes, reminiscent of beautiful topaz stones. Its ears were large and erect, quite unlike its tail, which was short and pompom-shaped.

He knew vaguely about cat breeds, having been very fond of them in his childhood and adolescence. So he was having a little trouble remembering the name of each of their races, but he doesn't think it's that important. Oh yeah, the cat's sex... hmmm, this one was male.

"You're quite an elegant cat, aren't you?" He looks into the cat's eyes, and he swore he saw the cat smile at him. Cats could smile? Huh. Okay, next cat.

Carefully placing the cat on the floor and moving to the next one (who was strangely still sitting in front of him) had a short, shiny black coat, and its eyes were large and round with a beautiful golden color. It was a pretty good-looking cat, to be honest, and he knew that breed!

"I know what breed you are! It was a Bombay cat," he said to himself aloud. With a sudden gleam of recognition in his eyes. Usually sociable and playful. Cool, but this one... strangely, he cannot identify the sex. Strange, but eh— it doesn't matter.

The next one had a much more striking coat than the last, which resembled a leopard's. A body with short, silky fur, with many patterns of brown spots beneath the yellow and golden skin. "Woah, a Bengal..." he murmured, delighted. The cat seemed to have heard this and lifted his chest proudly, looking quite pleased with the recognition of his breed.

Aaaaand it's male.

But 007n7 noticed something different about him. Normally, these cats have a more athletic body, but this one...

Ahem, moving on to the next one, he appears to have a calmer demeanor. Something in his air makes his presence more serene and graceful, as if he knew what would or would not happen. He takes the cat in his hands carefully and respectfully, not knowing the care needed to be taken when holding it, but he knew he couldn't hurt it. Its fur is short and dense, blue-gray in color. Its eyes are almond-shaped and golden yellow. Male too.

A cat approached, trying to be the next to be chosen, but it seemed another cat beat him to it. The first gave a light growl and a warning meow, well, whatever. The cat that went first stopped in front of him, ready to be checked. This drew a few low chuckles from 007n7; someone seemed excited to be chosen.

Upon closer inspection, this cat has a striking silver-spotted coat with well-defined black spots. It has a leaner, more agile body and large, oval, purple eyes. The tail has dark rings and a black tip, as if the color were fading from the tip. 007n7 couldn't identify the sex of this cat either, but don't blame him; he's not a vet or anything.

Okay, only four cats left. The next one surprised him a little; he'd never seen a cat as big as the one right there. This cat was large and robust, with a broad body and broad chest, as if demonstrating authority. The coat is dense and smooth, a grayish-blue hue. The ears are large and pointed, with small tufts of hair at the tips. The tail is long, bushy, and tapered, somewhat reminiscent of a raccoon's. He barely moved his tail, though, as if he were actually assessing the situation 007n7 was in now. Which was funny from 007n7's own point of view.

"I've never seen a cat as big as you, you remind me of someone." The cat just blinked, and 007n7 gave a light laugh. It was cute.

007n7 felt a slight weight as he carried the big cat, but he got what he wanted. Male too? Why aren't there any females? How strange.

In fact, what was considered strange about this situation anyway?

This time, a cat also approached to be inspected, a more calculated and calm posture. Literally reminiscent of the previous cat. Short gray fur, silver-gray eyes with a short neck and rounded head. The cat's ears are flat, folded forward, with a rounded tip. A very striking detail for this breed of cat, and 007n7 also knew this breed. Scottish Fold. From what he remembers, this cat has a robust, medium-sized body. So why... ppft– is he so small? Perhaps it is mixed with the munchkin breed, because of its short legs. And no surprise there, male. I think he already understands the pattern here.

Now, tired of sitting on the couch, he gets up to search for the other remaining cats while the ones that have already been confiscated stare at him interestedly. The others follow him with curious looks. It was strange to be the center of attention, especially since he wasn't familiar with so much attention. He scratched the back of his neck, looking away. "I don't know what you expect of me, but... let's finish the feline catalog."

Then, he approaches the two remaining cats, unlike the others, hidden under the table. They seemed to avoid contact, cowering in the shadows. 007n7 crouched down, resting his hands on his knees.

"Hello little ones, I don't want to hurt you." He crouched down to appear less threatening and held out his hand, but none of them wanted to approach him. Well, not until one of the short-haired, blonde cats approached, sniffed his hand, and, just to test the waters, rubbed it against his cheeks. The cat backed away a bit, but 007n7 was soon able to pet it without any problems, a barely perceptible smile plastered on his face. "You're cute, even though you're shy. I like you."

007n7 notices the little kitten's heterochromatic (The left one is blue, and the right one is bluish) pupils dilate before he meows and burys his soft paws between the fluffy head. This only makes 007n7 want to coo and pet the yellow kitten more. The cat's short, distinctive tail curls even more. "You know what? I'm going to name you first after this. You were one of the bravest to want to approach me, despite not knowing who I am. Hehe."

Some cats narrowed their eyes without him noticing.

"Oh yeah! I almost forgot." He looks at the cat again, which now appears to be on its stomach, its head still between its paws. Male too...

He begins to think that he has entered an exclusively male world, or the being in this universe has a very peculiar sense of humor.

"Alright, finally the last one." He says paying attention to the last one in line.

The only one who hadn't approached yet. He was standing still, still in the same spot under the table. He seemed too hesitant to approach. His ears were flattened, his eyes fixed on 007n7, as if trying to measure his every breath.

The air around them seemed to shift slightly, and 007n7 lowered his gaze to something calmer, more patient. He leaned forward slightly, resting one hand on the ground.

"Hey, you there..." he said in a lower, more careful tone. "It's okay. I'm not going to force you to leave, but... I wanted to at least see you properly. Please?" He asked politely, without losing that almost paternal tone. As if he were asking a favor of a shy child.

The cat seemed to perk up its ears slightly, intrigued by 0007n7's calm and patient demeanor. He'd never seen the man act this way before, or at least not in front of him. 007n7 always seemed more anxious and nervous around him, recalling his moments before becoming a cat. When he recognized him in his kitchen.

From a man who was once more nervous and restless, this man here was calmer and more tranquil. An unusual behavior that almost no one had seen him exhibit in that hellish place.

And for a brief moment, the cat decided to stand up and slowly approach, as if taking a step of confidence towards the man in front of him – although still hesitant. 

That was enough to make 007n7 smile even more, a small but sincere smile. 

"Thank you." That's what 007n7 said as the cat passed in front of him, ready to be examined. He carefully picked up the cat and lifted it up. He recognized that breed too, a Ragdoll cat. It was one of the most beautiful breeds in 007n7's opinion, with its long, soft, and silky coat and glorious mane on its neck. The tail was long and fluffy, its movement hypnotic to watch. It appeared to be a mix of three colors, with its distinct patches of cream, black, and red. This cat had a sensational coat for many cat lovers, including himself.

And he thinks he could already guess the cat's gender without seeing it.

"Very well, now I know that almost everyone is strangely macho. And apparently, I'm going to be a cat sitter. It's almost hilarious to me." 007n7 shook his head, his hand resting on his cheek. "If someone had told me that in the past, I would have laughed in their face."

The cats just watched him, silent. But there was an unspoken understanding between them about 007n7. The man must now fend for them alone while they try to figure out what happened. For now, they would spare themselves any questions about the situation, focusing on the present.

Besides, something intrigued them more than the situation itself. For the first time in a long time (or almost ever), they seemed to see 007n7 talking openly without cowering in a corner. He seemed more... calm. Despite the tension in his shoulders and anxious posture, that was already something to be noticed.

Hmmm, really interesting.

"Very well, since you're going to stay here with me while I try to investigate for more clues about my team's whereabouts, I think I'd better give you guys a shower. I noticed a strong smell of beer coming from you. It must be from the party they had last night." 007n7 gets up from his seat and starts picking up some cans that were thrown on the floor, analyzing the print on the empty can in his hand. 

"Geez, couldn't they keep things a little cleaner than this? I thought they were more careful than this," he muses aloud as he begins to grab the broom and sweep the living room floor, pushing the empty cans into the corner to throw them in the trash, making a loud clang sound. That comment earns a few meows and indignant looks from the cats, a mixture of embarrassment and almost human shame.

007n7 continued to carry the dishes to the kitchen and begin to clean them leisurely, glancing back to observe the irritated-looking cats. "Huh? I was just telling the truth. This is disgusting, and even if they'd disappeared, they could at least tidy things up before sleeping on the floor." He said this as he glanced at a blanket that lay in the middle of the living room, scattered and abandoned. He didn't see the blond kitten meow loudly in discontent and embarrassment.

He lets out a snort of amusement, what funny cats. They even seem to understand what he's saying.

When he's done, he'll give them a thorough bath to get rid of the beer smell. He thinks he'll be fine since they seem so calm here. This makes him confident they'll be fine in the bath.

Let's let them relax for now.

Man, I'll tell you. Bathing 9 cats is tiring, a lot.

The group of cats, though seemingly calm on the surface, were actually quite a restless bunch, especially the leopard-skinned cat and the black cat. They fidgeted as he tried to sponge them. But after much struggle, he managed to wash them successfully! 007n7 rubs his wet forehead with the back of his hand, smiling proudly. His arms are slightly scratched by sharp claws.

Well, he did end up getting a few scratches, but they weren't as serious as the ones he sustained fighting to survive in the matches against the assassins, and they were superficial. Other than that, bathing the others was pretty normal, although the gray cat with topaz eyes seemed to be having a lot of fun alongside the blonde one. The little gray cat also seemed to not want to be washed by 007n7, after he let slip a comment about his height.

He looked really embarrassed about it, man, he really didn't know cats could be so expressive.

After washing them, they ran through the main cabin still wet, but thankfully stopped for 007n7 to let them dry with a fluffy, terrycloth towel. (They had no idea where he got it from.)

Anyway, after bathing them and having them sit down to warm themselves near the warm slope, 007n7 figured they might be hungry, which led him to think of another possibility.

How would they eat here? There's nothing to give them! He held his hands beside his head in panic. How would these cats feed themselves?! There's no food, no water. In fact, there's water from the dock for them to drink, but they'd still be without food. This made him think for a moment, raising his hand to his chin as one of the cats noticed him leaning on his feet near the kitchen door.

"Meow?" The cat meowed curiously.

He could very well look for something in the fridge that is edible for them, but the question is, what exactly?

With that question in mind, he moves from where he was with surprising agility, which earns more curious looks from the already nearly dry kittens. He opens the refrigerator and scans the options. And... unsurprisingly, there aren't many.

Sure, there was still food, but it was very limited. Cheese, water (taken from the dock), some treats and snacks, some protein bars, and raw chicken. The menu wasn't all that merciful, but it was enough to survive. He felt sorry for looking at something so empty. But that buried the worry in his head even deeper: what would he do to feed the cats? They couldn't eat such cheap junk, and he'd refuse to give them something that was likely at risk of becoming invalid. And chicken seemed like a viable option, but he wasn't sure he could touch other people's things, especially one of the administrators. 007n7 couldn't even imagine the other's face upon learning his sacred pot of chicken had been messed with (especially by him). There was only one thing left.

Look for food, and he already knew exactly where to get it.

He closes the kitchen refrigerator and walks to the cabin's exit door, stopping when he's startled by a loud meow from the small group surrounding the slope. The cat had stopped drying itself a while ago, simply following 007n7's movements with a look of curiosity and suspicion.

He smiles and bends down to pet the kitten on the head, still heading toward the door. "Relax, little guy, I'm just going to get you guys something to eat, okay? I'll be right back." And without further explanation, he walks away, leaving the cat and his group exchanging curious and confused glances and meows.

Well, all that was left was to wait and see what he would do. A long time had passed, and there was no sign of 007n7; the cats were starting to get worried about the ex-hacker's whereabouts. What could have happened? One of the cats started meowing to each other, engaging in a communication of only cat meows. One of them planned to go out to see where he was, but before anyone could move, 007n7 appeared at the door with a thud on the floor. Making the felines jump in fright.

What the hell was he doing? Someone must have guessed. But before a lot of meowing and confusion could start, 007n7 held up what he was holding in his hands for all the little eyes to see.

It was an iron bucket, full of fish. All freshly caught and collected from the dock. How... how the hell did this guy manage to catch all those fish?!

This was the cue for many cats to start meowing, demanding explanations from the single father, who seemed a little tired. His shirt was slightly visible, and his hat was completely dry on top of his head. He gave the cats a tired smile with the slight apology.

"Sorry for the delay, I went to get you guys some food and got lucky today. I always wanted to know what kind of fish were there, and what a pleasant surprise! I got salmon and sardines." He shows them the generous amount of fish in the bucket, crouching down, as if it were some great historical find. And it practically was. Eating something other than chicken or pizza was a miracle in itself.

The black cat was the first to come in for a closer look, sniffing the fish like someone examining a treasure. Soon the leopard-spotted cat also arrived, trying to stick a paw into the bucket. With his paw already clawed, he tried to grab the fish from the bucket, but 007n7 had to stop him by pulling the bucket upward.

"Hey hey, calm down!" 007n7 took a step back, clutching the bucket to his chest. "It's not for eating raw! That's a problem… I think."

He was concerned about giving them something good and harmless, but just looking at them made his heart ache a little. Every cat's expression showed only one thing when they looked directly at him: hunger.

Big eyes, erect ears, slow-moving tails. So patient, yet hungry. He couldn't wait any longer; he would make them something good to eat.

Straightening his hat and squeezing some water from his shirt, he walked toward the kitchen with long, hurried strides, ready for service. Today he would be the cook of the day.

Soon, the cats followed him, eyes wide and bright, bellies ready to be filled. They could only imagine what they would eat at the former hacker's hands.

The kitchen was silent for a few seconds, until the sound of the gas lighting echoed, followed by the light crackling of the fire.

The curious cats began to line up at the door, watching intently — some on the table, others near the door. They noticed how focused 007n7 was, so they left a space so as not to disturb anything. He moved with surprising precision, cutting, cleaning, and separating the fish with a skill no one (not even himself) expected to remember he possessed.

The knife's movements echoed through the silent kitchen, broken only by the sound of slicing against the cutting board. "It's been so long since I've done this…" he murmured, running the blade across the fish's silvery skin. "I learned to impress someone, a long time ago… but, well, he hated fish." A small laugh escaped him, muffled and sincere.

As the cats watched with interest, he placed the cleaned pieces in an old frying pan heated over the fire. The scent began to spread, a warm, soft, and unexpectedly comforting aroma, something not felt in that cabin for a long time.

The tricolor blonde cat let out a long, impatient meow.

"Hold on, it's almost here," 007n7 replied, stirring the fish with the wooden spoon. "I can't burn the first 'family dinner,' right?"

The cats meowed back as if they had gotten the joke, and he chuckled to himself.

When he was finished, 007n7 distributed small portions into improvised bowls (lids, cracked plates, even an overturned pot) and placed them carefully on the floor and table, one by one. One for each cat.

"There you have it, ladies and gentlemen. Dinner is served. Menu of the day: salmon cooked without salt, 007n7 style." He gave a slight bow, ridiculously theatrical. He smiles to himself as he watches the cats go to their proper bowl, sniffing and watching him with unfamiliar reluctance.

"Come on, I promise it's not poisoned. Besides, I already cooked for my son. I promise." 007n7 raised a hand with his fingers crossed.

After waiting patiently for a long time, one by one they began to approach.

The cats, hesitant at first, began to eat. And soon, the room was filled with the low sound of contented purrs. They were eating at a surprising speed. "Wow, you guys were really hungry, huh..." 007n7 whispered to himself, impressed. One of the cats had already finished his own plate and, mischievously, went after another plate to try to eat more, only to be slapped by another gray cat. That flat-eared cat seemed irritated by the mini leopard. They seemed like friends who studied in the same class, it's funny.

Finally, all the cats seemed satisfied with their meal, licking their lips to clean the remaining residue from their faces. 007n7 remembers how his son behaved the same way after eating and wiping his slightly food-stained mouth. He always kept a cloth to clean it afterward. Good times...

He thinks as he sits on the couch, feeling his body slowly grow heavier. It seems that swimming to the pier to catch fish with a pre-programmed net took a lot of energy, as he also felt his eyes grow heavier as time passed.

He looks at the cats one last time, seeing them already spread around the couch in a position to snuggle, they all really looked comfortable in their places, some already closing their eyes.

Even in the strange new situation, 007n7 liked his new friends. It was welcoming. Comfortable.

"Good night everyone, sleep well."

And his eyes closed, his mind finding its beloved unconsciousness. Alongside his new companions.

Chapter Text

The day dawned in silence, and 007n7 was the first to wake up.

The absence of voices struck him before he even opened his eyes. No morning murmurs, no conversations interrupted by laughter, none of the small arguments that, however trivial, filled the air with hope. The cabin, once alive with echoes of routine and companionship, now seemed larger. It was cold, as if emptiness had spread to every corner.

He never imagined waking up like this. Even when he wasn't participating in the conversations, he always heard them, a constant presence that reminded him that, somehow, he still had this group. Now, without them, the silence felt strangely awkward, almost uncomfortable, even personal. A cruel reminder that things change too quickly for anyone to have time to prepare.

And for someone like him, change is like a weight to carry.

When he finally opened his eyes, he stood there for a few minutes, motionless, opening the wooden ceiling. The old oak, almost worn, but with use. The beams formed uneven lines, and he found himself following them with his eyes, just to keep his mind occupied. The morning chill crept through the cracks, slowly creeping into his bones, making him shiver. The quilt on the sofa was the only barrier between him and the morning chill, and the fire from the night before had already died down, leaving only faint embers, still alive enough to color the floor with an orange glow.

He took a deep breath and felt cheerful, carefully making sure not to disturb the small creatures sleeping nearby. He'd forgotten they were there for a moment, but he avoided disturbing them. They deserved a peaceful rest (for a disturbing place like this).

The blanket someone had abandoned slipped to the side as he slept, and he adjusted it with a slow, almost automatic gesture. There was a certain awkwardness in his movements, as if his body were still trying to wake up, but he didn't care. He had things to do today, like his first day alone.

As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he noticed small figures scattered around the room — a sea of ​​soft fur and calm breathing. The cats were still sleeping, each in their own way: some snuggled together, exchanging warmth. Others huddled in corners, like little mounds of tranquility. The blanket he'd left for them was now shared territory, the fabric rising and falling slowly with the rhythm of their breathing. He remembered he'd covered them in the middle of the night, his brain too tired to think anything through, and the gesture had become automatic anyway.

They didn't need to be covered, because they had fur, and he knew it. But there was something comforting about seeing them like this, safe, as if the world could still be a kind place. A barely perceptible smile curved his lips.

The vision occasionally took him to another time.

He recorded of c00lkidd.

The same blanket, the same sofa. How many times had he found him sleeping there, small and peaceful, after long days? And he, a hard worker, too exhausted to go to his room, came home and ended up falling asleep next to his son. And his son, like the sweet child he was, always ended up covering them both, falling asleep next to his father, snuggled. A memory came with a bittersweet warmth. Remembering his son always brought a mixture of comfort and pain, like touching a scar that no longer bleeds but still stings. Oh, how he misses him...

He blinked a few times, pushing the thought away before it got too deep.

There was the present to deal with, and the present, strange and silent as it was, provided attention.

He adjusted his hat once more and walked to the kitchen. Each step echoed through the cabin, the soft sound of sunlight against wood breaking the stillness. Routine called to him, and he answered without much thought (perhaps it was habit) and prepared himself, gathering the dishes and plates, and placing the pot on the stove. The crackling of heat mingled with the smell of metal and burning wood, until the room was filled with a warm aroma, comforting for the freezing day.

Chance struck hard, and that brought him a certain comfort.

“Okay... time to get to work” he muttered, almost without realizing it, his voice muffled by the smoke and adjusting his slightly fogged glasses a little.

(The sentence is so sad than he intended, and he just let out a small sigh. Embarrassed)

The rest of the morning passed in silence, interrupted only by the clink of metal and the soft sound of food being prepared. 007n7 moved with his usual precision, placing each bowl on the table, carefully aligning them in order. He liked to leave things in order. That way, he wouldn't worry about the mess later.

The mind seemed to shut down, going into autopilot, as if the body were moving on its own, obeying an ancient script recorded in some forgotten part of the memory.

The gestures came naturally, fluid, precise, like someone who has repeated a ritual for so long that they no longer need to think about it.

He enjoyed the game, found comfort in it. Cutting. Stirring. Tasting. Adjusting the seasoning (even if the cats don't mind), was comforting to him.

Every movement was accompanied by an almost artificial calm for someone like him, a cold serenity that seemed more like a reflection of habit than choice.

And deep down, he knew why. Cooking, patience, wasn't something new. He had to learn to have it.

Because he had done that before, many years ago.

In that place that he once dared to call home.

Memories flashed behind his eyes, with a clarity that was cruel once again.

The smell of freshly prepared food.

Steam rising in lazy spirals from the pan.

The crackle of fire, the slow hiss of metal heating, all the same. But back then, there was a difference.

At the table, someone was waiting for him with cheerful impatience, their eyes shining and their tail moving in a lively rhythm.

Someone who would smile at him, even without saying anything.

His son.

Now, the setting was the same, the same ritual, the same fire, the same gesture, but the audience had changed.

The table no longer had any voices.

The only thing that filled the air was the metallic sound of the spoon hitting the pan and the low murmur of the food boiling.

A lonely sound.

(He wondered how many times he had done this before, it was so many that it was beyond counting)

It was comforting, yes. But it was also a reminder, an uncomfortable mirror of the emptiness that had grown inside him, silent and persistent. He had to stop thinking about these things while he was here.

007n7 finished preparing the food and began serving it carefully onto the plates, one by one. They weren't too concerned about the heat, as the cold was enough to cool the food. (However, they had to be quick to avoid eating the cold food.)

The sound of the spoon lightly tapping against the bottom of the pan echoed throughout the cabin. The sound finally broke the slumbering spell in the room, waking the sleeping felines from their dream worlds.

First, there was a subtle movement, a paw stretched out, and a lazy yawn. Then, the clicking of claws against the wooden floor. And one by one, the cats began to wake up. Cats stretching and mouths yawning, apologies to children awake in the school nursery.

The Bengal cat (seemingly the laziest) was the first to get up. As soon as the smell of food left, he practically jumped off the blanket — completely forgetting its existence — and his tail began to wag in pure anticipation.

007n7 didn't turn around, but he acknowledged the approach. He gave only a slight nod, a silent greeting.

The aroma of cooked fish mixed with herbs filled the entire kitchen, warming the room with a subtle tenderness. The cold morning air became less hostile, carried by a scent that strangely reminded me of home. Or, at least, a memory of it.

The other cats approached the short ones, with careful steps, low meows, eyes still heavy with sleep. Some stumbled along the way, others yawned mid-stride, and a few simply followed the scent, guided by pure instinct.

Soon, they were all gathered around the table.

The sound of eating began — quick chews, rhythmic licks, small pauses. The kind of sound that, because it was so simple, became beautiful.

007n7 leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching in silence.

It was a domestic symphony, modest and sincere. For a brief moment, the emptiness seemed less heavy.

“...This is so weird,” he muttered, almost unaware he was speaking out loud.

The sentence came out softly, almost a thought that had escaped control. His mind blanked in the process, wandering. Seeing those tiny creatures simply existing gave him a feeling he couldn't quite put a name to.

It wasn't exactly happiness, nor sadness. It was a mixture of both.

“At least... you're okay,” he said, looking at each of them.

Some of the cats look up, piercing and intent. He glances at them and notices the quick glances some of them give him, which makes him shiver a little. Wow, that was creepy.

"Don't look at me like that," he grumbled, crossing his arms and looking away. "I don't know what I can do when I'm literally the only survivor left in this world."

The comment was followed by a long sigh, which came out like a rant held back days ago.

"Funny... I never thought I'd miss hearing someone complain about my coffee. Or anything in general." He let out a long sigh, resting his chin on his hand.

He seemed a little distracted when he talked to himself out loud. But he didn't mind.

“Being alone isn’t a big surprise to me, you know?”

His voice was softer than usual. His eyes watched the steaming food with care, almost affection. He let out a low chuckle, and they, in turn, watched him, this time with interest, their heads tilted ever so slightly.

"But seeing all this silence... made me realize how much they were missing here. It's strange, isn't it?"

Eyes blinking slowly, as if understanding. A strange silence accompanied by glances, but calm.

"If you guys weren't here... I think I would have completely lost my mind. Seriously. Who would have thought this would happen to me, me, 007n7, alone in hell, with cats. Heh... Too weird"

One of the cats, the yellowish one with the short tail and heterochromia in its eyes, meowed softly, raising its head. The sound was timid, but seemed to carry a response.

007n7 laughed again, almost voicelessly.

"Hm... maybe I've gone a little crazy after all. But hey, at least I'm aware of it, right?"

And he stood there, watching them in silence.

007n7 suggested lightly and, turning to one of the cats that seemed to have finished eating, he slowly lowered himself down to their level.

Something about them intrigued him, stirring an almost childlike curiosity. That curious, attentive, almost conscious silence simply wandered around. The way they moved carefully, as if carrying a story he didn't yet understand.

There was something different about all of them.

They didn't look like ordinary cats. And he observes each one of them.

Their forms were clean, their fur gleaming in the faint morning light. They were creatures too well cared for to simply appear there, abandoned like him. Just to be there with him, as if chance had brought together a discovery of wandering souls under one roof.

He rested his chin on his hand, his elbow balanced on his knee, and watched the group in silence. He had never touched a cat before. He loved them, yes, from afar, with that kind of silent affection one feels for something too beautiful to touch. But now, so close… he didn't know what to expect.

One of them — the small, short-legged gray cat —extended its head, slowly blinking its eyes in his direction. Curious.

007n7 took a deep breath.

"It is..."

The voice came out calm, almost a whisper. Curious.

007n7 hesitated for a moment. Then, slowly, he reached out, almost instinctively. His fingers seemed to tremble slightly with hesitation as he tried to gently stroke the cat's ears. He imagined what that soft, fluffy fur would feel like. He had never touched a cat before, even though he loved them so much. Would it be strange? Would it be soft? These thoughts swirled in his head as he began to reach out and touch one.

Only to stop in his tracks, 007n7 froze, his hand still suspended in midair. For a second, time seemed to slow down, and the cat still stared at him, curious but unmoving.

His fingertips hovered just inches from the cat's head when he stopped. So close to that curious cat.

What breath caught in the throat.

And then, 007n7 himself retreated.

Before the cat could move, he himself shrugged uncomfortably and looked away.

"Oh... right. Sorry. You guys still don't trust me that much, do you? Hehe..." His voice was low and embarrassed. He looked away, the corner of his lips curled into a shy, almost awkward smile.

The cat's eyes widened as he saw her hand approach and then withdraw, and his hindquarters twitched in a gesture of incomprehension. He let out a meow that sounded comically confused, as if he'd just let out a "huh?" in the air. They were all confused by what had happened, and 007n7 coughed lightly, trying to look busy, adjusting his glasses very quickly.

hiding his embarrassment, she got up in a hurry, quickly grabbing the dirty pan and starting to wash it at the same speed, carelessly. "Okay, yeah… I think that's enough for today. I have to wash this before the smell sticks to the pan." The hot water rose in clouds of steam, momentarily blurring the reflection in his glasses.

“After I’m done here,” he said, his tone practical, replaced by nervousness, but still gentle, “I need you guys to leave the kitchen so I can clean it up properly. You can… I don’t know, do whatever you want after that.”

A few cats meowed, wagging their tails as they went back to eating peacefully.

Uhm...

He felt a little lost.

Surprisingly, he didn't feel too nervous. The cats' cute gazes were quite bearable compared to his teammates' intense expressions. Still, the feeling of being too still made him uneasy.

It was very uncomfortable for some reason, he tried hard to ignore it.

“I really don’t know what to do now… I gave you all food… but I don’t know if I should just leave you here.”

He glanced at the door, outside — the quiet, personal space of his own cabin called to him, but he hesitated.

The cats were still there, playing or just watching him, and somehow it felt wrong to leave them.

"You're fully conscious, but you still have cat instincts," he murmured, wiggling his fingers.

"I can't understand what you're thinking... and I bet you don't understand half of what I'm saying either, hah..." The muffled laughter died quickly. He was making things a little awkward himself. Congratulations, 007n7.

He looked at the wooden floor, then down at his feet. The typical socks and slippers every dad wears. Don't judge his style, okay?

“Right… thinking won’t help much.”

He straightened, his eyes darting around the room. He had to do something, anything.

Then, without warning, an idea popped into his mind.

Under normal circumstances, 007n7 would never attempt something like this. But these were not normal circumstances, right?

And for some reason, the thought made him smile. A genuine, curious, somewhat childish smile. And then he opens the graphical interface.

The translucent windows opened before him with a faint red glow, the light drawing the attention of all who watched. The Egyptian Mau, playing with the leaves in the pot near the window, absently moved its ear as it looked at its retired father. Their interest made them stop fiddling with the pot and watch what 007n7 was doing with his strange intergraphic screen. Its striped tail twitched slightly.

“Let’s see what we have here… I don’t usually use C00lgui commands outside of matches, but maybe…”

He typed something quickly, a line of text flashing, and looked directly at the command screen's inventory. And what he found made him smile.

“… Just as I thought, congratulations, universe. You have a sense of humor.”

He hid a smile behind his hand and summoned the object he found in his inventory. Out of nowhere, a small laser pointer appeared in his hand.

007n7 looked at the item and then at the group of gathered cats.

“Sorry about this, but I need to check something...” he said, already trying to hide his laughter.

He turned on the laser and pointed it at the floor. Nothing happened at first. Just the red dot glowing alone on the wooden floor.

But then, 007n7 moved the dot slowly, in circles.

The gray cat was the first to advance.

His head snapped up, his eyes narrowed, and in less than two seconds, he jumped, trying to grab the end.

The striped one followed him with surprising speed: one moment he was next to the vase and the next he was tripping over a cushion.

The mini-leopard behind them also looked ready to pounce.

007n7 tried to contain his laughter... but he was failing miserably. The soft, low giggles stubbornly escaped through his fingers.

“...This is officially the most cool thing that happened today.”

He began moving the dot back and forth, and the cats' heads moved in sync, their eyes shining like watchful beacons. They seemed mesmerized by the red dot moving back and forth, their pupils dilated.

Even the most serene blue-gray cat, who had been lying down cleaning his paws, was now in attack position. 

That was it, he couldn't contain himself. The laughter was too loud for him to handle. Then, the sound of 007n7's laughter echoed through the cabin.

It was loud, the loudest laugh they had heard from that man in a long time. They had never heard him laugh so openly, so sincerely, and so... genuinely.

The cats watched him, or at least the ones who weren't completely mesmerized by the laser. It was a laugh no one there had ever heard before.

Neither does he.

“Oh my gosh… I- hah, I’m sorry, I feel like I’m taking advantage of your feline instincts, but this is just… fun,” he said, laughing.

He knelt on the ground, laser still in hand, his gaze amused and light, and for a moment, all he felt was a strange sense of genuine joy. Something he hadn't felt in a long time, not since he'd been sent here.

Wow, how long has it been since he let himself play like that?

And with that, he summons the laser once more and the game lasts longer than he imagined.

007n7's laughter filled the empty cabin, along with the sounds of the cats chasing after the laser, trying to capture it somehow. And for a time, 007n7 completely forgot about the outside world.

Of the murderers, of the departures, of the sound of abandoned generators. Screams.

All that existed at that moment were the cats' clumsy jumps, their paws tapping on the floor, and the small red dot dancing on the walls.

When the laser finally went out, silence filled the cabin again, but it wasn't the same silence as before.

There was something warmer about him now. Alive, light.

"Okay..." 007n7 muttered, looking around and smiling. "I think you've all had enough exercise for today."

Some cats were still trying to track the invisible dot, confused by its sudden disappearance. Others were already lying down again, breathing slowly, their eyes relaxed, and their ears partially flattened. Shedletsky yawned and flopped down on the blanket. Two Time followed, lying half on top of him, eliciting a protesting meow.

007n7 watched the scene, chuckling softly.

"I can't believe it worked. And I'm still surprised none of you scratched me."

He picked up the laser pointer, deactivated it with a tap, and returned it to his companion's inventory with a satisfied snort.

Then he began cleaning up the mess the group had made. Pillows were out of place, some chairs were overturned, and a few strands of hair were floating in the air.

He moved through the space calmly, as if it were part of an old routine. Even though it was all so new.

"I should invent an automatic vacuum cleaner here..." he muttered to himself, grabbing a rag and wiping the table. "But I doubt the Spectre would let me create one. I bet he'd kill me before that."

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Okay, terrible joke. Ignore it." The larger blue cat looked at him from the couch and did nothing. But he stared at him for longer than he should have.

As he packed his things, he kept talking, little observations, random comments, thoughts that escaped his head without any control. Just like he did in the morning.

"Hmm, this table should be smaller. This just to annoy me, y'know" He made comments like that as he continued and continued his service casually.

Somehow, cleaning made his mind wander as his hands searched for something to move. It calmed his mind and, at the same time, seemed to lift some of the weight of worries from his shoulders — a kind of release that naturally calmed him. He did this when he was alone with c00lkidd during cleaning time at home.

Some cats looked at him curiously when he spoke, others just blinked slowly, uninterested. It was quite a scene for them to see 007n7 moving around so much with them around, it was actually quite interesting.

But for 007n7, that was enough. It was comforting. Their silent presence made the emptiness of the place easier to bear. He felt he could ramble on as much as he wanted now. No one would judge him, after all.

He finished cleaning and leaned against the counter, watching the cats rest. They all seemed peaceful. Some slept, others calmly groomed themselves, oblivious to everything.

And for a moment, 007n7 allowed himself to take a deep breath, feeling the soft sound of his breathing fill the cabin.

“You know,” he said, in a low, almost whispering tone, “I think you guys are good for me.”

No one answered, of course. But they looked at each other in a way that might suggest an answer.

And he smiled anyway.

He stood there in silence for a long time, just watching the group disperse to the corners of the cabin, and for the first time in a long time, the silence didn't feel hostile.

It felt like... home.

Chapter Text

He took a deep breath, then exhaled. He repeated this process three times before lowering his head and crossing his arms.

“Right. Today is no day to joke around, it was bound to happen at some point and I honestly don’t know what to expect.”

And he was somehow right — it was uncertain what would happen if he entered a match now. Alone, without support, without support, without anything. He didn't have enough resources to survive on his own, and the chances of victory were... slim.

Ridiculously small.

But there he was, trying to believe that a little logic and preparation would solve everything. As if death had an instruction manual.

The sound of something falling made him look up. One of the metal plates, the fifth of the morning, rolled across the floor with an insistent clang.

The cat that knocked him down, with gray fur and a completely unrepentant expression, looked at 007n7 as if to say, “So, are you going to stop me?”

007n7 let out a long sigh, rubbing his face with his hand.

“Great. I’m glad someone here doesn’t have an existential crisis,” he muttered, picking up the fallen plate.

The cat responded with a short, sharp meow that sounded absurdly mocking.

"Yes, yes, you win. I should learn from you. No panic, just wanton destruction," he said, cleaning his plate and putting it back on the table.

That feline gaze, attentive and judging, followed him the whole time.

“Don't even think about pushing again.”

The cat blinked slowly, as if accepting the challenge.

007n7 looked away, shaking his head, a short laugh escaping before he realized it.

It was almost ridiculous... but he didn't care that much.

He pushed away from the table and leaned against the kitchen counter, watching the group feed. The cats ate in a line, some pushing each other, others just watching with a superior air, and he might have been going crazy, but somehow 007n7 saw his old companions there.

Chance was the one who tried to steal food from others. Shedletsky, the one who pretended not to care but ate double when no one was looking. Guest, the one who could calm the most agitated cats with just a meow. And many other things he associated with the fruit of his own mind.

007n7 let out a small laugh. Feeling awkward.

“Look at me, imagining personalities for cats. I’m officially losing my mind,” he said, resting his chin on his hand.

The truth was, even with the weight of the next round pressing down on him, that moment between the clinking of bowls and the soft sound of paws on the floor strangely calmed him.

He could pretend, just for a moment, that this was normal life. That he wasn't the last human survivor trapped in an endless cycle of death and rebirth. That there was a home, and that caring for these little beings was more important than any departure.

And maybe it was.

007n7 moved slowly towards the group, crouching down near the dishes.

“Are you all satisfied? I hope so, because—”

A furry tail swiped right past his face, cutting off his words. He blinked, stunned, as the cat continued unmoved, crawling onto the couch as if nothing had happened.

“Okay... noted. You have no respect for any authority.”

The answer came in the form of a slow, lazy meow.

007n7 let out a resigned sigh and muttered.

“At least someone here is consistent.”

He straightened, adjusting his glasses, and watched the scene for a moment longer than he cared to admit.

Those attentive, curious, and (he hated to admit it) caring eyes watched him silently. And for the first time in a long time, he didn't feel like dead weight.

007n7 crossed his arms and looked out the window, where the artificial sky in the lobby was beginning to lighten, announcing a new cycle of games, and the start of another round.

The warning flashed red in the interface I had added: New match starting in 5 minutes.

His heart tightened in his chest.

“Okay... time to die. Again.”

He tried to laugh, but it came out more as a nervous whisper, his heart gradually racing as nervousness took over his mind.

The cats watched him, as if they understood the gravity of that statement. Some of them tilted their heads slightly, and one of them (the same gray one that had dropped the plate) came over and rubbed its head against his leg.

007n7 froze for a second, then bent down, smiling at the cat. He reached out to pet it, but at the last moment he drew back again. Hesitantly.

“...Sorry. I just can’t do it yet.”

The cat meowed softly, almost as if in disagreement.

007n7 smiled. A small, almost quiet smile.

“Okay. I'll be back soon. I'll try, at least.” He gets up from the floor to prepare himself once more. It was time to go.

...

He felt the familiar dizziness begin to form in his vision, signaling the start of the match. And as the dizziness intensified, he took one last deep breath.

“Let's see what happens this time.”

And then he feels the air distort around him, his eyes closing as he mentally prepares himself for a new departure. Alone.

The air around him began to vibrate, a distorted, cold sensation seeping into his lungs as if the oxygen had been replaced by static. 007n7 felt his stomach drop, and before he could react, the room around him distorted like liquid glass.

Lights and shapes dissolved into a shimmering blur. A second later, the world came together before his eyes.

The ghostly clock's ticking began, starting the match time.

He blinked slowly, in no rush to recognize where he was.

The setting was completely different—a misty field surrounded by half-destroyed buildings and electrical cables dangling from corroded towers. The lights flickered at irregular intervals, and the air smelled of rust and rain.

“...Okay. Here we are.”

The voice came out in a resigned murmur, almost automatic. The mind took automatic control once more, beginning the same process all over again.

But this time it was different.

He adjusted his hat and ran a hand over his collar, trying to contain his nervousness. Every sound—the distant clang of metal, the whisper of wind, the jingle of chains— made his muscles tense.

The loneliness was almost palpable. And for the first time, he felt nervous around her.

He walked across the map in silence, his footsteps making a crackling sound on the grass, each step rhythmic to his breathing and heartbeat. His hands were restless and sweating. Okay, no need to panic, just do the same as always.

After a long walk, he spots something and approaches one of the power machines, one of those rusty monstrosities that needed to be wired together with a jigsaw puzzle. 007n7 snapped his fingers, took a deep breath, and leaned over the panel, examining the tangled cables.

“Okay, that doesn’t sound so bad…”

He picked up the disconnected wires of each color and began connecting the colored ends. The rhythmic sound of the wires being snapped together was almost comforting in his own uneasy silence.

“If I do this quickly, maybe I have a chance to—”

“meow”

The sound cut through the silence like an explosion.

007n7 jumped so suddenly that he almost fell on his ass, his hand grabbing the machine just in time to prevent that from happening. He quickly looked at the person in charge.

“W-what!?” He turned around with wide eyes, searching for the owner of the meow.

There, sitting beside the machine, a small striped cat watched him with wide eyes and a slow wagging tail, as if nothing had happened.

007n7 blinked in disbelief.

“...No. It can’t be.”

He took a cautious step back, looking around. “I don’t… it can’t be- how—”

Another meow echoed behind him.

He turned again, and slowly, he recognized what he feared, and yes... there was another cat. And another, emerging from the shadows, ears pricked and a curious expression.

“But- why…?”

The cats stared at him with such intent eyes that it seemed they were judging his life decisions.

“This isn’t possible. It’s not possible! I should be the one here, not you! What could happen to you if the killer catches you?!”

He ran his hand over his face in exasperation. "This couldn't happen, oh my god..."

The striped cat responded with a short meow, almost as if mocking him.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he grumbled, lowering his tone. “This is serious. I—”

Another meow. Louder this time.

007n7 sighed and looked up, as if waiting for the universe to give him an explanation. And he wished it would. Oh, how he wished.

But nothing. Just the distant sound of currents and wind.

He sighs. Almost giving up on his hopes (which weren't that many, but it wouldn't hurt to believe a little, would it?)

“Great. Fantastic. Okay, fine... I'm surviving a round alone and now I'm being chased by cats... Cool.”

He scratched the back of his neck, chuckling nervously. "Well, at least they don't make noise when I'm alone. I guess." He said with his hand over his mouth, as if in thought.

The nearest cat pawed curiously at the loose wires on the ground, causing the wire to snap loudly and the cat to jump away, bristling. It scurried away, straight toward 007n7's feet.

“...Okay. Maybe they’ll make noise.”

He let out a heavy sigh and crouched down, facing the small group ahead.

“Okay. I don’t know why you’d be here, but... if you’re coming with me, be quiet and don’t disturb me, okay? This isn’t the time for laser tag or whatever.”

One of the cats sneezed. Another yawned.

“Perfect, professional company. Great.”

Even as he grumbled, 007n7 felt a twinge of comfort grow in his chest. On the one hand, he was happy that he wasn't as alone as he'd imagined he would be in the match, but on the other, he worried about the cats' well-being. It was strange, but their attentive company made the atmosphere seem less suffocating.

For a moment, he didn't feel so afraid, replaced by something light. It made him breathe properly for a second.

But not for long.

Clang! The metallic sound of a dragging chain echoed in the distance.

007n7 froze, his breath catching again.

“Oh gosh...” He recognized that tinkling sound from afar. Standing up, his eyes fixed in the direction of the sound.

The cats followed him silently. They were also attentive to the sound, their footsteps trying to remain as quiet as possible so as not to attract any hostile attention. If the killer found them, it would be very bad, especially with them together.

As they walked, 007n7 thought to himself. He was still trying to figure out what he was doing.

And why the hell were 7 cats following him like a makeshift elite team? (More like a bunch of baby ducklings following their mother duck)

He walked silently across the map, dodging debris and peering intently into the shadows between the abandoned buildings. By this point, he knew where he was. The castle map.

The eerie noise of the countdown echoed as a reminder that danger could lurk around any corner.

“Okay...” he muttered, looking at the cats. “If any of you see something... meow. But only if it's serious, understand? You can't meow at a mouse... if there is one here.”

One of the cats meowed immediately.

007n7 sighed. “...This is going to be an interesting match.”

He returned to work on another machine, one of the generator cables, keeping his ears open for any noise. The felines spread out nearby, sniffing the air and observing the surroundings with watchful eyes.

It was funny to see them so attentive; they seemed to understand what was at stake. Cats are really strange, but he wouldn't judge. But even seeing them together, something still felt off.

Not everyone was there.

The Bengal, the golden cat with dark spots and a cheeky look, had disappeared seconds before the match began. 007n7 noticed his absence, but assumed he was prowling around.

Wrong. Very wrong.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the map...

The Bengal landed on his feet on the lawn near the castle, his eyes shining in the dim moonlight.

He looked around, huffing, his tail wagging impatiently. He'd appeared alone this time, so it would be a problem if he didn't find the others quickly, or 007n7. He was the most capable of helping him at this point.

But just as he was wondering how he could find the others, he saw something, a tall silhouette, shrouded in shadow, its face partially hidden by a gray-green glow.

It was the killer. 1x1x1x1. His rival of pure hatred.

The air became dense and almost vibrant.

But for the Bengal, fear was a... relative concept. He began to unconsciously sheath his claws as he stared intently at his hateful counterpart. His tail wagging disgustingly.

He arched his back and let out a low meow, pure provocation.

1x1x1x1 slowly turned his face, his eyes lighting up with an ethereal tone, and then he became confused after seeing a feline alone there.

"...Hm." His voice sounded metallic, reverberating as if coming from inside a computer. He approached the cat with its fur standing on end, and raised his sword towards it intimidatingly. "You're new. A new pawn, perhaps? But you..." He seemed to narrow his eyes indifferently, as if he didn't care about the new surprise.

"Tch, whatever. Your life is meaningless to me. I need to find the one I'm interested in killing..." He narrows his eyes as he turns around ready to leave, planning to abandon the cat right there.

"And you... you're quite chubby for a puny feline. Hmp."

Silence.

The Bengal froze for a second.

The cat, frozen, began to feel his fur stand on end more than he'd imagined. His eyes began to dilate dangerously, and his claws unsheathed themselves forcefully on the ground. Oh no, he wouldn't let it go like that.

A deafening meow echoed across the map, followed by a blur of golden fur. 1x1x1x1 turned in confusion toward the deafening scream, not expecting what would come next.

The cat pounced on the killer with the fury of a thousand vengeful souls. Claws swiping, teeth bared, snarling like a demon being exorcised.

He began to attack her back with a vengeance, latching on like a killer koala.

“OW— WHAT— WAIT— LET ME GO YOU INSIGNIFICANT BEING!”

The killer staggered back, trying to yank the feline away from his face. The miniature leopard screamed, meowed, hissed, bit—everything you'd imagine a furious cat about to breed hatred would do. It was a veritable mess of killing intent.

“MRRRRREOWW!”

1x1x1x1 stumbled, slamming into the walls below the castle, trying to pull away the cat that was now clawing at him with pure, concentrated hatred.

“GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU—!”

Another meow interrupted the cursing. The Bengal sank its claws into the killer's pants and, with a dexterity no normal cat could muster, somersaulted and landed on its feet, its tail erect like a trophy.

The killer stood there, completely stunned, his pants ripped, his pride wounded, and his face covered in scratches.

For a moment, everything was silent.

“...you...” 1x1x1x1 muttered, his tone dripping with venom and hatred.

But before he could react, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed. And right on cue, 007n7 appeared, followed by the other cats, looking alarmed.

“What the hell— WHAT HAPPENED!?” He screamed in fright before covering his mouth with his hands tightly. He hadn’t meant to scream like that, but 1x1x1x1 seemed like a complete disaster. Oh my.

The Bengal just licked his paw, indifferently, as if nothing had happened.

007n7 looked at the assassin, completely destroyed, he was... strangely silent.

That was scary.

Oh uh.

"You... YOU FU–" And before he could say anything else. The match was over.

And 007n7 blinked. Shocked, surprised, scared...

“...I uh..."

The cats stared at him. The Bengal let out a short, almost arrogant meow, and 007n7 watched him silently. He didn't know what to say.

“...Okay,” 007n7 proclaimed, massaging his temple. “Next time, you go first, hero.” He coughed a little. “And remind me not to mess with you...” he muttered.

And so, the match was a success...

Ehm... I guess.

The room was silent.

Too quiet.

007n7 stood in the middle of the cabin, his glasses reflecting the soft light from the ceiling, like an evaluator analyzing tests.

The cats sat before him— all of them, without exception— watching him silently.

And if there was such a thing as tension between cats, it could be cut with a knife.

“Okay... now that everyone’s here,” he began, his voice too calm. “We need to... talk.”

The tails began to move slightly. One, two, three cats blinked slowly.

The Bengal, especially, narrowed his eyes.

007n7 stepped forward. “I thought... a lot, after what happened with 1x1x1x1, and... uhm...”

He stopped.

A light metallic sound echoed.

"Don't be mad at me, please."

The cats, in unison, tilted their heads, and saw what he was hiding behind his back.

Silver shine.

Small shape.

A terror of several cats.

A cat's claw pliers.

For two seconds, no one moved. Until he took a step forward.

...run.

A chorus of meows and paws stomping filled the cabin, transforming the tranquil scene into a furry battlefield.

There were jumps, slides, and runs between the furniture. The Bengal was the first to escape (of course), skidding across the kitchen and hiding behind the refrigerator.

The tall gray cat jumped in the window. The yellowish cat hid cutely under the rug, the Ragdoll one disappeared into one of the bookshelves. The large grayish-blue cat hid under the sofa (somehow), the short gray cat huddled on top of the refrigerator with the black cat. The blue-gray cat with yellow eyes ran under the kitchen table, hiding in the darkness. And the Egyptian Mau… well, they stayed in the same place, just sitting there, staring.

007n7 sighed deeply, holding the pliers as if holding a bomb.

“You’re being irrational. It’s just… a small trim! Just to avoid… catastrophic injuries to my face!”

A distant meow answered, sounding clearly like a curse. These cats...

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and said solemnly.

“Okay. If that’s how it’s going to be… then so be it.”

And there he went.

The first catch was the Ragdoll cat, the closest. 007n7 set a simple trap, the old food box trick. All he had to do was shake the bag and the cat appeared, walking with the confidence of someone who'd forgotten the trauma of five seconds ago.

“Gotcha,” he murmured, and gently clicked one of the cat’s paws. The cat let out an indignant, but unresisting, “Mrrrp!”

Then came the topaz-eyed Gray, who tried to escape through the window. Keyword: Tried. 007n7 just leaned in slowly and whispered, "You forgot it doesn't open."

A second later, he was picking him up, with a small, victorious smile.

And he captured them all one by one, in silly but functional ways. It ended up being a fun challenge for him, and he smiled at each one he managed to catch.

Finally, there was one left. The Bengal.

The Bengal lurked behind the shelf, eyes glowing in the dark, tail swinging from side to side like a pendulum poised to strike.

007n7 approached slowly. “Kitten, let’s talk like adults. Or... sentient beings. Look, I fed you, I gave you a blanket, no need to make this personal.”

Silence.

He bent down, slowly stretched out his hand...

And the cat jumped.

007n7 dodged, the cat whizzed past, landed on the table, knocked over a glass, and jumped again — a pretty impressive feat for a cat like him — but the man was faster. With a swift movement, he snatched it from the air, holding it with the care of someone who'd handled explosive bombs before.

The spotted cat meowed as if it were being murdered. While 007n7, impassive, trimmed the rebellious feline's claws.

“There,” he said finally, as the Bengal growled softly. “It didn’t even hurt. See? Civilization wins again.”

And finally, he let him go. The chubby cat marched off indignantly, his tail raised like a protest flag. And 007n7 swore he saw him let out a growl and turn his head in a dramatically exaggerated fashion. What a drama...

007n7 put away the pliers, sighed and muttered to himself: "Next time, I’ll bring gloves."

And before he could move, thinking he was finished, he felt a movement behind him, and when he turned his head to look, a cushion had moved. The blue-gray cat, with its elegant and serene posture, had finally revealed itself. It had hidden itself and had not yet been caught. Lucky.

The cat blinked slowly, a silent message, and 007n7 sighed. Sigh, here we go again...