In which doom returns with a vengeance.

ΞCecil…Ξ Whispered the echo from The Outside. ΞBro…wake up…Ξ But he didn’t want to move today, not after it had taken him so long to get comfy and (luke)warm in his heatpad. ΞCecil please…Ξ Now he could feel something nudging his scaled back, but he refused to budge out of heat deprivation. For some reason the last few hours had been colder and his heatpad had been losing power too, and as a (chiseled) snakeman, cold was not cool, man. ΞPlease, bro. We are scared.Ξ A wave of fear reached his senses.

Cecil Noodle awoke with the rage of the ancients.

“Behindme,broshers.NOW.” Said Cecil as his instincts commanded him to defensively coil around his fellow Potatoes to shield them from an invisible foe. He wasn’t even aware of his surroundings yet, but he was ready to strike back at whatever threatened them inside their only safe den, awareness be damned.

“No, Cecil, there’s nobody here.” Said Paul Feathers, his emerald-green Karnakian brother, clutching his back anxiously. Alistair Kibbles, their silver-blue Dorarizin brother, also clutched his back, and Cecil could feel their bodies tense and cold with fear.

Cecil felt less reason to lower his guard, analizing his surroundings in search for danger.

“Cecil, they are gone.” Paul tried to get his attention. “They are gone, bro!”

“…Who’shgone?” Said Cecil looking by his shoulder after finding the room awfully quiet.

“Everyone(Everyone).” Paul and Alistair gazed at him with a sincere yet worried look in their amber eyes, their bodies trying to disappear away from whatever was unnerving them, and Cecil knew this was not the usual case of fear.

“Every…one?” He begun to feel uneasy himself.

“Yes(Yes).” They nodded slowly.

Cecil looked around for a moment, his rage replaced by a sinking feeling of something off, otherworldy, the same feeling that preluded imminent danger he was never ready to handle. But he could feel his brothers literally resting their hopes on him, so he had to act now and it had to be with confidence. “Howdoyouknow?” Whispered Cecil, relying on gathering knowledge to empower himself (if only a little).

Paul Feathers suddenly broke from their group huddle and went skipping towards the door that connected Potato Den with Potato Fun. “(Come look.)” Ninjutsued Paul, as if he didn’t want to be heard by some unseen thing.

Cecil slowly and silently slithered towards the door, Alistair following a few steps before noticing something at the corner of his eye, quickly sidestepping to pick it up, then return following his brothers with Broball in embrance.

“(I’ll open the door.)” Ninjutsued Paul a bit shakey but determined to act now that his “big bro” was on the case too. Cecil nodded serious, bracing for whatever awaited out there, while Alistair stood anxious like a pup hearing his first thunder.

Goreep The door disappeared, and Paul skipped back to the safety of his brothers.

Cecil scanned the rec room with cold intent, focused on discovering threats before they could react to their presence. Sound, vision, smell, heat…Nothing brought up any living thing to his perception. The room was empty, silent, devoid of any energy flow other than those safety leds that blink to warn you about some failure.

Wait.

Cecil did a double take and noticed that their den had those lights too.

“(Did you check the room behind the glass wall?)” Ninjutsued Paul to bring something new to his attention.

Cecil turned to the glass wall. The observation theater was also on safety leds, but it was completely empty of anything not nailed down. The xenos were gone (there was always at least one or two) and so was their equipment (snacks and doodads). He “tasted*” the air again and found no recent traces of activity in the adjacent rooms and hallways, and he realized the air felt heavier and “stiffer” than usual.

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“(Can any of you sense anyone out there?)” Ninjutsued Cecil to his brothers, knowing their own senses could reach beyond their current room.

“(No.)”

A chill went down the ruby-red Jornissian, which only accelerated his already depleting body heat. “This is an unprecedent event.” He thought, comparing all his (recalled) experiences. Not even when the xenos took over the station (and the human crew left) were they in a situation where things felt completely abandoned. The dangerous implications did not escape his mind, and he realized then and there how truly dependant they had been of external input just to survive. And now he understood why his brothers were so scared.

“Wegotnochoishe.” Whispered Cecil, his body losing motion with each passing minute. “Wehavetofindthemifwearetolive.”

Alistair and Paul nodded, acknowledging the harsh truth by looking at their big bro’s steeled eyes.

Thus, despite their fear at facing literal nothingness, the three did the unthinkable and willfully ventured outside their zone in search for xenos for the first time…

Meanwhile.

Captain Arasha’Ssabi was having a great time at her ship, Starbinder.

Upon the completion of the safety net that would allow them to transport their assigned commission (at last), the entire crew collectively decided to pack things up and be ready for travel in record time, emptying the smol deathtrap known as Research Station #DX192 Titanic (MCMLIV) in one day. “It was truly a feat worth celebrating.” Thought the Captain, so she allowed her crew to rejoice and cheer in one big “ship meeting” before sailing away.

“” Said Arasha’Ssabi with a drink in claw to those who could fit in The Bridge with her and the other officers (everyone else in attendance through their comm-beads and consoles). “” She begun to look around her crew with fondness. “” There were a few cheers and nods amongst her crew, but for some reason, the Captain began to feel she was forgeting something. “” She chuckled (a little uneasy). “” The feeling grew stronger. “” She realized their mistake.

Time slowed to a crawl as a metal cup ricochets around the floor, spilling its contents in pain as the figure of a lime-green Jornissian female (wearing a fancy red dress to compliment her two pretty lapis lazuli hood-ornaments) contorted in the visage of a known ancient smol art piece called The Scream.

“<[CECIL]!>”

PLOP Arasha’Ssabi fainted from sheer shock.

“[Captain!]” The Crew jumped into action.

“[[Arykins]!]” But her best friend, Kr’Re’Ki, was first to reach her. “[What happened? Talk to me!]”

“” Commanded The Doctor, parting the crowd like snake Moses.

“[She’s not responding, what do we do?]” Said Kerykins crying, caressing her friend’s head in her lap.

“” Said Doc as his nurses (who were always priority guests at parties) pushed themselves over Kerykins’ place, forcing her to get up a few (xeno) feet away.

The sky-blue Karnakian female (wearing a fancy green dress) stared in silent anguish upon her friend, when a thought crossed her mind. “Wait…What did she mean by-” And she immediately realized their mistake.

“[[PAUL]!]”

Plop Kr’Re’Ki joined Arasha’Ssabi on the floor.

“” The Doctor glared in frustration upon receiving a new patient. And before anyone else got the same funny reaction. “”

A wave of hysteria was crushed before it could take off.

COREMASTER, Dorarizin Head of Security, also had better experience keeping his cool in times of stress. But when he put the Captain’s final words together with Kr’Re’Ki’s, he immediately realized their mistake.

“[[ALISTAIR]!]”

The ice-cold glare of The Doctor prevented COREMASTER from experiencing his first-ever faint in the line of duty (and yet another hysteria wave was crushed).

COREMASTER got to action.

“[ATTENTION ALL OFFICERS, WE HAVE A CODE L-19*. I REPEAT, CODE L-19. REPORT TO YOUR STATIONS IMMEDIATELY.]” The entire crew scrambled to reach their designated spots in seconds, all aware of their mistake now. “[DEPLOY R.A.F.T.* TO #DX192 AT ONCE. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. I REPEAT. NOT. A DRILL.]”

The Chaos Spirit dweling is smol station #DX192 Tigh Tunic had claimed yet another victory.