#eaps mimic

The autumn woods are full of the sounds of nightlife, nocturnal animals like raccoons and owls and mice rustling the leaves. A few extra heavy footsteps behind him simply join the white noise he’s grown used to hearing beyond his music. 

“Hey, kid.”

Just more white noise. Andrew shifts his purple scarf, guarding his mouth against the cold. Preoccupied with his bright phone, busy trying to reconnect after a sudden signal loss, his eyes are not adjusted to the dark around him and he doesn’t sense the presence getting closer and closer. 

“Kid.”

The music cuts off abruptly as one of his earbuds is yanked from his ear. Immediately alarmed, Andrew whips around, already pulling back his fist for a punch. But before he can throw it, the man grabs the scarf around his neck and yanks Andrew’s head down, with the stranger bringing up his knee to meet it. 

Alarms flash across his vision as his back hits the ground, and Andrew can tell oil is leaking from his nose. Before he can recover and stand, there’s a strong pressure on his chest, directly atop his adaptium power core… a foot. Much heavier than it should be for a human that size. A couple tugs and it doesn’t budge - in fact, Andrew’s hands phase through the man’s pants… and… legs… until they touch metal. 

His artificial breathing is constricted by the scarf, the damage alerts in the corner of his vision still flashing. An SOS signal sent to home - to Eclipse, to Solar Flare, to Charlie, to anyone - bounces back, unsent. Something is blocking his communications. 

The stranger just stares down at Andrew. “Recognize me?”

He doesn’t. No. Scruffy beard, long hair. The man looks and sounds like no one in his memory banks, as far as he can tell from a brief search. All his energy is being used to break free…. or attempt to. One hand pushes at the leg keeping him pinned while the other is scrabbling to pull the scarf away from his neck. He looks up at his attacker, meeting the stranger’s orange… eyes. Orange? Why would they be orange? He can’t… focus…

The man seems displeased with the lack of a verbal answer, wrapping the scarf tighter around his hand and lifting Andrew’s head up off the ground. The teen’s hands both pull on the scarf, trying to relieve the feeling of suffocation - he doesn’t need to breathe, but it’s distracting and it hurts. 

“Let’s try again,” the man growls, and his voice changes midway through the words. He sounds like… like Eclipse. And his face… it flickers and disappears, revealing a metal one hiding behind it. 

An illusion disc? Andrew thinks. He can tell his own has already failed, shattered under the endoskeleton’s foot. His more robotic features are clearly visible. 

It doesn’t matter. 

The Mimic knows exactly what and who he is. 

It tilts its head at him and the stolen human face flickers back on, a sadistic grin plastered there. Its voice goes back to the one he doesn’t recognize. “Ohh, looks like you do remember me! After five years I was worried you wouldn’t.” It releases the scarf and Andrew’s head slams back onto the ground. More damage alerts. 

Andrew’s systems register that he can ‘breathe’ again, though, and he is able to speak. “You… controlled Dad and hurt Jake,” he spits, glaring up at the Mimic. “‘Course I remember you.” 

“Hm, true.” It drops its grin, looking unimpressed. “But I’m here for you. You know why, right?” 

Andrew searches his memory again. Times he and the Mimic had interacted, reasons it’d be mad at him personally… Oh. Right. He’d identified the imposter immediately, managed to plant seeds of doubt in Puppet’s mind about ‘Eclipse,’ and escaped the Mimic’s attempted exorcism. Then the… not so kind exchanges they’d had while the Mimic was trapped in Eclipse’s lab, preventing Charlie or Roxy from opening the pod… 

He just chooses to nod.

The Mimic sighs. “I could just kill you here. And I do want to.” It puts more of its weight on the leg on Andrew’s chest; metal creaks and he can feel an uncomfortable pressure on his core, a phantom touch to match on his very soul. “But I’m not really here for revenge, even if this will do the trick. I’m here to cash in a bounty on you.” 

A bounty? The Overseer had assured their whole extended family that he and any others to assume the role wouldn’t attempt anything like that again. So it had to be someone else. Who would have it out for him? It wouldn’t be Foxy or Monty. Could FC have done this as a prank, without thinking of the consequences? Another SOS comes back unsent. Panic starts to set in.

“Weeeell,” the Mimic continues, “not exactly on you. I could always grab your little brothers instead, and they are Plan B, but…” Its voice changes again, this time to a voice Andrew had hoped to never hear again. His killer’s. His Creator’s. “The remnants of the Council would rather not start C14 from scratch.”