Contributing Author: H0st
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Trey came to a sudden stop and fell to his hands and knees, panting and exhausted.
Don’t worry, Ryzm. Compared to everything else this morning, that’s not that weird.
It seemed whatever prevented him from feeling tired while running at super speed also went away when the aphid left.
He attempted to catch his breath and stand up, but his muscles refused to budge.
Uh… hello?
Suddenly, Trey felt his whole body standing back up to its feet like a marionette having its strings pulled.
“Wooooah! So tall!” he heard himself say in an unusually high-pitched voice.
I don’t recognize you. Are you a new aphid?
“Oh, hiii!” his mouth said in a childlike tone, as his hand came up and waved vigorously at no one in particular. “Sorry I’m late. I was napping, and no one told me they were root-pulling, the meanies!”
Okay… so who are you?
“Oh, right! Introductions and good manners, I almost forgot!” the aphid exclaimed. “Hello, my name is Daizy and my favorite color is yellow. Except on Mondays, when it’s blue. What about you?”
Uhh… Hi, I’m Trey and—
“Meh, I already know. Looked at your memories,” she said, glancing around dismissively. “Kinda boring. I liked your memories when you were little, though. You had way more fun thoughts back then, and you didn’t spend all your time in that gray box. Wish you were still like that now.”
Trey hesitated for a moment. For some reason, those words hit him extra hard, coming from what sounded like a kid speaking from within him.
Yeah, me too, but sometimes life just doesn’t work like that. And you’re right. Cubicles are the worst.
“Woah, that’s starting to sound way too deep for me,” Daizy rapidly said, raising both hands up with more force than what was necessary. “I don’t know anything about that kind of stuff. Maybe you should talk with Mama about that. She’s really good at it.”
Daizy continued looking around with great fascination, as if taking in the view from atop a mountain, despite being in the middle of a freight yard and surrounded by concrete and metal from all sides.
Hey, Daizy, if you don’t mind me asking… how old are you?
“Who? Me?” said the aphid, pressing Trey’s index finger against his chest. “I’m five hundred and eighty-eight and a half weeks old! Gonna be five hundred and eighty-nine soon!”
Trey tried to do some quick math in his head, but he found it suddenly turning at a dizzying speed as his whole body rotated to face the fuel crate that had finally caught up to him.
As it stopped, it dinged and repeated its request. “More scrap required.”
“Oooh, funny box. I like it!” Daizy said, stepping closer to the crate. “What’s inside? Why does it want scrap? Why is your face kinda scratchy when I touch it?”
I-I don’t know!
Trey found it increasingly difficult to think clearly, as if his brain was in a turmoil, attempting to keep up with the young aphid’s frantic thoughts. The fact that he also seemed to have no control over his body was not helping either.
“I bet Geneva would know! This is soooo Geneva’s kind of thing!” Daizy said with a giggle, while bending at the waist to look at the crate, both hands clasped together in front of his knees in a pose Trey was certain he had never made in his entire life.
Right, speaking of which, you think maybe we could ask Geneva about it? Or talk to any of the other aphids? This feels a little weird. Usually I can still have some control over my body, but that doesn’t seem to be working right now.
“Nuh-uh!” she replied, quickly standing back up. “It’s my turn to play, and they all know not to mess with my playtime!”
For some reason, Trey felt slightly threatened by her warning.
Okay, alright, that’s fine. We still need to finish this whole quest-thing, and secure the fuel, though, right?
Trey attempted to bargain with her, but it only made him realize how inept he was around children. How could something so simple be so hard?
“Urrrgh! That sounds so boring! I’m hungry. I wanna go have pancakes with syrup instead!” said Daizy, stomping one foot down, causing Trey to hope no one was around to see him do that.
Trust me, Daizy, I’d much rather be eating pancakes right now too, but here I am, being chased by some goons with a talking crate following me and a bunch of little bugs controlling my body. Whatever this quest thing is, it sounds important, so if we could maybe just get it done with so we could all go for pancakes, that would be awesome.
“Fine,” the aphid agreed, crossing Trey’s arms. “I suppose that’s what Mama would want, and I don’t wanna make her more sad than she already is. All she does is sleep right now. I get sad too when she’s like this.”
Trey felt a small sting in the back of his mind. He wanted to say something at least somewhat comforting, but the words eluded him. Thankfully, before he could dwell any further on the awkward silence created by his lack of social skills, Daizy spoke up in a cheery voice again.
“That doesn’t mean we can’t have a side quest!”
Out of the blue, a green box popped up in front of Trey’s eyes. It even made a sound effect, like a bubble bursting in one of those pay-to-win mobile phone games.
[New Side Quest]: Snack Break!
[Description]: Locate and consume pancakes with maple syrup.
[Optional]: Add extra maple syrup!
[Reward]: Unlock [Daizyness].
Trey read the words while Daizy clapped in excitement. For whatever reason, all the dots in every “I” letter were tiny flower icons.
I’m not sure we have time for—oh no.
Trey would have jumped in place if he still had any control over his body. Cheetah Brains was running in their direction, his tailored suit jacket open and blowing in the wind as he ran. Close behind came Stew, drenched in sweat and carrying what looked like a crumpled up ball of chips wrapped in a tuxedo made of potato peels under his arm.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
Daizy, we gotta get out of here quick! Please tell me you got some kind of power that can help us?
Trey felt his eyes widen and his mouth open into a big “O” shape.
“BIG KITTYYYY!”
Daizy rushed towards the cheetah man. Unfortunately, she was taking Trey’s body with her.
“We caught you now!” the big cat said, huffing and puffing as he came to a halt. “Hey, wait a minute, what are you do—oof!”
“So fluffy!” the overly excited aphid yelled as she wrapped Trey’s arms around Cheetah Brains and buried his face against the feline’s chest.
Please tell me this is part of your plan and that you have some kind of special power you’re about to unleash, otherwise we’re doomed. I don’t want to get mauled.
Oh no. I’m starting to sound like Ryzm.
“Don’t be silly,” Daizy’s muffled voice said from between the cheetah’s chest. “I don’t need any powers. Mama says I’m already special the way I am.”
“What the hell are you doing?!” the heavy breathing, hairy and thick-skinned Stew yelled as he caught up to them. “I should have known! You’re not just a cheater, you’re also a traitor. You’ve been in cahoots with them the whole time!”
Cheetah Brains shook his head as if breaking out of a bout of confusion, and Trey could swear he heard some low purring right before he did it.
“What are you talking about?” The cat pried Trey away from his chest. “I had never even seen this guy until today!”
“That bad man just called you a bad thing,” Daizy said, looking up into the cheetah’s eyes. “He’s mean. You should tell him to apologize.”
Cheetah’s eyes dilated like a house cat who had just spotted a bird outside the window.
“Yeah… you’re right.” he said, turning on his heels to face Stew. “I’ve had it with you and your idiotic screw ups. Every time something goes wrong, it’s somehow always you. Tell me, who was the one that refused to follow Dr. Hugo Hugo’s instructions for setting up his killer robots? Who was it, again, that decided they’d just hook them up to the warehouse’s Wi-Fi instead?”
“The instructions were complicated! I didn’t think they’d need the signal boosters,” Stew grumbled, glaring back at Cheetah.
“Brilliant. You’re brilliant. That’s why, the second they left the Wi-Fi’s range, they collapsed to the ground. One almost fell on top of me! Do you know how much those things weigh?”
Stew didn’t say anything, but Trey thought the burly man looked like he was about to boil over.
Cheetah continued his rant, jabbing a clawed finger at his fellow goon. “I’m the one always holding this whole operation together. I think you should show me a little more respect!”
“Respect?” The fuming chef snarled as his face turned red. “I should show you some respect?”
“You heard me. Why are you even carrying Tater Tot’s body with you while we’re chasing our target, you moron?”
“Because we don’t leave one of our own behind!”
“You left the other half of him behind, genius!”
“Well, I couldn’t carry both, and this is his better half!” Stew yelled. “Now get out of my way. I’m gonna do my job and then tell Vice what happened here.”
The cook stepped around the other thug and towards Trey.
“You always were a sore loser,” Cheetah Brains muttered between his bared fangs.
“Ooooh! That’s not nice,” said Daizy, covering Trey’s mouth with one hand and looking at Stew. “Are you going to let the bad kitty talk to you like that?”
The burly man stopped dead in his tracks, an empty gaze in his eyes.
“No… no, I’m not!”
He dropped Tater Tot’s lifeless upper body on the ground and turned back to face Cheetah Brains.
“I’m done taking disrespect from you,” Stew said, as he pulled up his sleeves and stepped in front of the other guard. “You and your… your… stupid leopard print tie!”
The cat man snarled as the chef put his chubby finger up against his necktie.
“You take that back! It’s cheetah print and you know it!”
The two thugs continued yelling and bickering at each other, looking closer and closer to getting physical with each new insult, all while Daizy giggled from the side.
Trey spectated the entire scene, speechless, from inside his own head. Had the little aphid girl done that to them? He wasn’t sure if he was impressed or freaked out, but he quickly realized it would be better to figure that out later.
We should probably get out of here now.
“You’re right! We need to find a place that sells pancakes!” the young aphid said. “Let’s go! But first…”
She ran up to Tater Tot’s limp body and unceremoniously threw it on top of the crate before taking off, skipping down towards the nearest alley with the container still following close behind. The shouting and yelling of the two henchmen faded away into the background as they left.
Why are we bringing that potato guy with us?
“I dunno,” Daizy said with a shrug. “I just think he looks funny and I wanna keep him.”
At that point, Trey saw no point in even questioning it any further.
“Oh, oh! Look! I see a diner sign that way!”
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Daizy placed Tater Tot’s upper body on one of the seats in the diner, by the window, before sitting opposite of him. The red container thrummed quietly next to their table.
Alright, this should be easy. Let’s get this side quest done with.
A waitress walked up, hair tied in a messy bun of someone who had worked far too many hours to care anymore. She had dark, baggy circles under her eyes to match.
She glanced at the strange crate, then at the half body made of potato chips leaning lifeless against the window, and finally at Trey, who was sitting on his hands, dangling his feet back and forth with a childish grin on his face.
She let out a long sigh and pulled a pen and notepad from her apron’s pocket. “What will it be?”
“A full plate of pancakes with your best maple syrup, please!” Daizy exclaimed, raising an index finger up in the air.
The waitress rolled her eyes, jotted something down on her paper, and left without saying another word.
“I’m so excited!” Daizy said, as Trey’s body trembled on its seat in anticipation.
It was odd feeling himself so ecstatic over something, especially something so simple as pancakes with syrup. He could not remember the last time he felt such joy running through his body. Had it really been that long?
Okay, maybe now that we’re having a quiet moment we can discuss—
“AH!”
The pile of crispy chips sitting across from them suddenly came alive and yelled out, several crumbs flying out of his potato peel pattern jacket.
Trey immediately began freaking out in his own head.
How the heck is he alive?!
“I don’t know! But it’s so cool, isn’t it?!” an even more excited Daizy said with a concerning amount of glee.
“Where am I?” Tater Tot asked, placing both hands firmly on the table. He glanced around the diner, then down at himself. “And where the hell are my legs?!”
Daizy shrugged with Trey’s shoulders. “Dunno. I think I was still napping when that happened.”
“Wait, where is Vice? The other guys?”
“Those bad guys? We left them way back. Don’t worry.”
“Oh…” Tater Tot said, letting out a small sigh and relaxing his shoulders.
Wait, why does he seem relieved? And why isn’t he being hostile towards us?
“How should I know? Maybe he’s not a meanie like the others?” said Daizy, through Trey, to himself. It was complicated.
The potato man looked up at Trey with a slightly surprised expression.
“No, wait, you’re right. I’m not like them. To be honest, I… I’ve been looking for an opportunity to walk away from the whole operation for a while now. Ever since… the fish.”
He looked at a coffee stain on the table’s surface with a thousand-yard stare in his eyes.
Daizy stifled a giggle. “I don’t think you will be walking away from anything now.”
Tater Tot looked up at Trey, a confused look on his potatoey face.
Daizy! You shouldn’t say stuff like that, it’s mean!
“Sorry,” she said, fixing her gaze down to the floor.
Suddenly, Trey felt an itch in the back of his brain and Daizy perked up in her seat.
“What? Noooo! Just five more minutes, please? C’mon, I was gonna get my pancakes with syrup now!” she pleaded loudly to the air around her. “Argh, fine, but only because it’s you!”
I’m guessing your turn is over?
“Yep, sorry. It was fun. I hope we get to play again soon. Bye-bye!” Daizy said, waving both hands at nobody in particular.
Before Trey could do anything about it, his body went completely limp and his face slammed down against the table with a loud thud.
[NEW SYNCHRONIZATION]! - 00.00% | (Z) Daizy