Chapter Text
Snow drifted down from the pitch black sky, coating the unmoving bright red of Tenna's coat with a dusting of white. They landed down on his severed shoulders, sparking against the exposed wire with an angry hiss. His vision blurred, a bright color bar streaked across his face. Within the television's mind, the hijacker paced back and forth impatiently.
This was it. He reprised his role in this timeline perfectly. From the moment he took over Tenna's body and resumed the game boards to his final appearance in the snowy area, his performance was flawless. The Lightners played their parts too, successfully recruiting all of the TV World employees. It was all going to pay off in the end. Even if it meant enduring the wicked slashes from the Knight. The crackling stumps of his shoulders stung, but the digital phantom could hardly feel it over— "Would you SHUT UP?!"
Behind him, Tenna shrank back and whimpered. He tugged against the neon green strings binding him and sobbed. "It HURTS," he whined, his chest heaving as his voice hitched. "And everyone's left me and now I'm going to DIE alone and forgotten just like when the family UNPLUGGED me—hrk!"
The hijacker grabbed the strings around Tenna's neck and yanked him forward with a growl. "You are NOT going to be left behind." He shoved Tenna back, flexing his claws and steadying his breathing. "The Lightners will be back soon. SUSIE and MIKE and the others will come fix me."
"H-how do you know?"
The other Tenna didn't respond, resuming his pacing in front of the screen. Outside, a harsh wind swept across the field, pushing Tenna's body sideways and crashing down to the ground with a loud thump. Tenna shrieked as he felt his sparking wires come in contact with the snow beneath his severed shoulders. "How are you NOT in PAIN?!"
"This is nothing compared to..." His voice trailed off. Turning his back away from Tenna, the hijacker stared out at the now sideways view of the empty snow field. He had been in this exact position before, too many times. Over and over again, he experienced the same brutal slashes from the Knight, the same stinging, cracking pain when his arms were severed and his body fell into the snow. And Tenna was right, in a way. Some timelines he really was left alone to die. Forgotten and in silent agony until he peeled himself away from the failed timeline back into code before the PROGRAM reset everything.
But no matter how many times he was cleaved by the Knight, he could never forget his original timeline. The neon green strings that wrapped around his arms, pulling and snapping the fibers connecting his shoulders bit by excruciating bit. Unable to scream, unable to make any sound but crackled gurgles as his vocal cords were severed and his screen was sliced clean through with consecutive slashes. He could never forget the searing pain that tore through his being as his very code was torn apart. The Tenna that now slumped quietly sobbing before him could never even begin to understand the true pain the digital phantom experienced.
Still, the other Tenna couldn't help but feel a lingering sense of guilt. A side effect of rebuilding his code in this perfect timeline. For what it's worth, the hijacker never told Tenna much about the plan past the fact he needed to cooperate or die by his hands. Tenna didn't know his arms were going to be slashed, or that the Lightners had met all the conditions to save him. This Tenna was lucky that way, this temporary suffering would be all he would ever have to experience until the end. But that ever-pressing feeling of abandonment, that fear of being forgotten...
"Stop crying," the hijacker scolded. He looked towards the distance, the body's foggy vision barely making out two small specks on the horizon growing larger as they sprinted towards Tenna's body.
"I won't let us die."