sitesaver

Ooooo get ambushed by an art dump ooooo 👀👀👀👀

Large variety over the past couple days some creepy some silly tho it’s BOTH of my aus 🥹 (infection au crumbs)

silly

(The main mascot of the series finally makes his debut in this fic!)

Harley adjusted the internal focal point of his optical sensor, watching the digital lines of tracking static smooth out across his green interface. The data structures of his old work were beginning to map themselves onto his new electronic consciousness, overlaying the decaying physical reality of the tunnels with bright, vector-graphical blueprints.

"The server room isn't just a storage facility for old hard drives, Rich," Harley said, his vocal modulator humming with a crisp, authoritative frequency he hadn't used since his lab coat days. "It’s the anchor point for the entire localized network. When I designed the initial neural-mapping architecture for Experiment 1006, I built a hidden redundancy into the foundational logic—a systemic backdoor we called the Negation Core. If I can interface directly with the main terminal, I can compile a recursive logic loop. A negation formula. It won't just freeze his motors; it will systematically decouple his cognitive independence from the auxiliary units."

Rich let out a low whistle, his plastic knee joints clicking as he shifted his weight. "A kill switch. Nice. Trust a scientist to build a self-destruct button into his own crown jewel."

"It’s not a self-destruct button, it's an emergency brake," Harley corrected, his speaker crackling with a hint of his old academic pedantry. "But yes, effectively, it will drop his processing capacity to zero. The only problem is we need to physically reach the Sub-Level 5 mainframe to inject the script."

Rich's polished yellow head tilted sharply, his Grab Pack apparatus whirring as the mechanical hands twitched against his shoulders. "Yeah, well, 'physically reaching' anything down here is like trying to navigate a minefield during an earthquake. Sub-Level 5 is miles deep, the stairwells are collapsed, the elevator shafts are full of scrap, and the security grid is currently crawling with the Prototype’s little enforcers. It’s a death march, Doc."

Harley stepped forward, his titanium digits clanking confidently against his metallic thigh. "I designed the structural layout, Rich. I know every maintenance bypass and crawl space between here and the core. We aren't going down the main avenues. We're going through the blind spots. Trust me."

"Alright, dandelion," Rich chuckled, referencing the shredded remains of the yellow dress left back in the puddle. "Lead the way. But if I get my plastic joints melted, I'm haunting your display screen."

They moved out of the corridor, stepping into a wider, vaulted junction where massive industrial pipes ran along the ceiling like frozen mechanical intestines. The air was freezing, vibrating with a deep, subsonic thrum that made the glass of Harley’s monitor rattle.

Suddenly, the subsonic hum was cut by a sound that made Harley’s logic boards instantly freeze.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

It was heavy, rhythmic, and incredibly fast. It didn't sound like the metallic click of the Prototype's spider legs, nor did it sound like the hard thuds of Lily's shoes. It sounded like massive, padded feet slamming against the concrete with terrifying force.

From the dark upper rafters of the junction, a shape dropped into the dim green glow of Harley’s optical beam.

It stood nearly ten feet tall, a towering monstrosity of matted blue fur and impossibly long, lanky limbs. Its face was a grotesque, wide caricature of a smiling mascot, but the plastic eyes were entirely dead, and the massive, ruby-red lips parted to reveal rows upon rows of jagged, needle-sharp teeth glinting with saliva.

A digital tag blinked violently in red text across Harley’s vision: UNIT: HUGGY WUGGY. STATUS: FERAL / HOSTILE.

"Oh, you've got to be  fucking kidding me," Rich gasped, his form locking up. "The shipping logs said that model was dismantled!"

"Evidently, the shipping logs lied!" Harley shouted, his speaker booming with sudden panic.

The blue monster let out a terrifying, high-pitched screech—a sound that was half-mechanical siren and half-animal roar—and lunged forward, its impossibly long arms sweeping across the floor with the speed of a freight train.

"Run!" Harley shouted.

They bolted down the junction as Huggy Wuggy charged behind them,  his lanky limbs bending at unnatural, terrifying angles as it sprinted on all fours. The blue beast was incredibly fast, its claws tearing gouges into the concrete walls, sending stone chips flying like shrapnel.

"Left! Go left!" Rich screamed, firing his red Grab Pack hand at a rusted valve wheel ahead, using the winch to pull his plastic body forward in a sudden burst of speed.

Harley’s hydraulic knee joints slammed open and shut, his titanium boots hammering the floorboards. He could hear the hot, heavy breath of the monster right behind him. Ahead, built into the base of the wall, was an open ventilation duct—a narrow, square opening meant for air filtration.

"In there!" Harley skidded on his metallic heels, dropping flat onto his back and sliding headfirst into the metal duct, shoulders scraping against the steel lining with a shower of bright sparks.

Rich dived in right behind him, using the blue Grab Pack hand to slam the heavy steel vent grate shut behind them just as Huggy Wuggy’s massive blue face slammed into the exterior of the wall. The impact buckled the metal duct, the monster's jagged teeth scraping violently against the bars of the grate in a horrific display of frustration.

"Keep crawling! Keep crawling!" Harley scrambled on his hands and knees through the dark, cramped shafts, his metal head bumping against the upper plating. The sundress might be gone, but his boxy TV head wasn't exactly aerodynamic. "I forgot how much I hated the engineering team's obsession with narrow ductwork!"

"Less talking, more scurrying!" Rich yelled from behind, his  joints clacking like a frantic typewriter in the enclosed space.

They scrambled through the labyrinthine vents for three frantic minutes, following a downward slope until the shaft suddenly ended at a broken exhaust louver. Harley kicked the metal slats open and tumbled out, landing heavily on a raised catwalk in a cavernous, dark pump room. Rich dropped down beside him, panting mechanically.

"Did we lose him?" Rich asked, peerng back up at the vent.

"Statistically speaking, yes," Harley said, pushing himself up. "The structural blueprints indicate that monster's frame is too wide to navigate the secondary vertical shafts—"

Before Harley could finish his sentence, the metal wall right next to the catwalk exploded outward in a shower of rivets and insulation.

Huggy Wuggy burst through the drywall, its massive blue arms reaching out and instantly clamping around the handrails of the catwalk, trapping them. The creature’s massive, needle-toothed maw opened wide, letting out a deafening roar of pure malice right into Harley’s face.

Terror, cold and absolute, paralyzed Harley’s processing core. His digital HUD glitched violently, flashing an array of unreadable system errors. His single white eye dilated to the very edge of his green screen. In his panic, his internal energy grid surged, sending a massive, unregulated spike of electrical current through his upper chassis and out toward his external sensors.

CRACK!

A localized electromagnetic pulse burst from Harley’s monitor, striking a heavily pressurized, rusted water main running directly along the ceiling right above Huggy Wuggy’s head. The structural integrity of the old iron pipe failed instantly under the sudden energetic vibration.

The pipe ruptured with a deafening explosion of metal, unleashing a massive, high-pressure torrent of scalding, chemically treated industrial water straight down onto the blue monster.

The scalding deluge hit Huggy Wuggy dead center. The creature shrieked—a pitiful, high-pitched wail of agony—as the chemical wash saturated his thick blue fur and hissed against its internal wiring. Blinded and battered by the immense pressure of the waterfall, the monster released his grip on the catwalk, stumbling backward into the dark lower levels of the pump room, its frantic, splashing retreats fading into the distance.

Silence fell over the pump room, save for the steady, heavy splashing of the broken water main pouring onto the empty floor below.

Rich stood entirely frozen, his yellow plastic hands hovering mid-air, his jaw  dropped open in sheer bewilderment. He looked at the rushing water, then turned his head slowly to look at Harley, who was standing there with his metal fingers twitching, his display screen slowly shifting from a panicked red back to a stunned purple .

"Doc..." Rich said, his voice a low whisper. "How in the world did you just do that? Did you just telekinetically blow up a water main with your mind?"

Harley looked down at his titanium hands, then up at the broken pipe, his speaker letting out a long, trembling burst of static.

Good Smell

Lovely scent!