#silver shepard

Ed Edgar saw you as a profiting opportunity.

Bastard only uses you for commercials at first

Wings sell shit, don’t they? Kids are into wings these days?

One day you get pissed and just punch him

He respects you after that…

He’s very loud, of course, and your ears tend to be sensitive

He tries to quiet down when he sees you make a face

It’s difficult because that… that’s just his normal volume

He talks about his son sometimes. Not to you specifically

He gets sad… you still don’t completely understand what happened.

Sometimes it feels like he doesn’t either

You instinctively wrap your wings around him for Safety and Comfort

He is a MAN who DOES NOT CRY but goddammit, he was close 

He enjoys your company

The Silver Shepherd thought he was gonna rescue you

He’s a superhero, he HAS to save you, right?

Nah, you’re the one saving him more often than not

He tries not to be jealous, but goddamn

Your wings are just. So big. And pretty

He’ll complain to you about his girlfriend “cheating” on him

You know the bullshit he pulls, but you listen because why not

He appreciates that you at least pay a little bit of attention

He doesn’t do a whole lot of hero work, but he usually brings you along

Just for a bit of extra support

More often than not, you’re doing most of the work

You let him believe he did something, though

You boost his very low ego, and so you get along

Derek Derekson was a little bitch

Also saw you as a profiting opportunity

Yelled sometimes when you messed up

You took deep breaths and tried to stay calm the first few times

Then you snapped, calling him a variety of... words...

He stopped yelling at you, but not much else changed

You got along well with Eric, and he appreciated you for that

He does care about his only living son, at least a little

You two don’t… talk a lot

He’ll watch you from afar, occasionally

You constantly encourage him to TALK TO HIS CHILD and GO TO THERAPY

You still don’t like him, and he feels the same way

But he’s… trying

Randall Voorhees thought you were badass

He wasn’t as used to magic and weird shit as the others

You were absolutely awesome to him

He’d never seen an angel before!

Even though he didn’t really KNOW that you were an angel

He just assumed and refused to change his mind

Harder to hide you wings in crowded cities, like where he lives

You spend a lot of your time with him cooped up in his apartment

He felt bad, so he rents a mountain cabin up in Albany whenever you visit

You two ski and snowboard look me in the eyes and tell me the bitch isn’t a snowboarder

He’s a construction worker, so he’s usually busy

You visit him on his lunch break sometimes.

The other workers claim to see you, but he’ll always deny it

He buys a pizza whenever you visit and you eat it together

You two are so cute it’s sickening

Yandereplier claimed you as their new senpai

They saw you, you had wings, you were nice

And now you are Senpai

You aren’t sure why you get a weird feeling whenever they call you this

Luckily, you don’t have many friends, at least none that they could kill…

They showed you their weapon collection to impress you

You were scared and also impressed

They take you to a cherry blossom tree near their house

You talk and hang out and eat lunch

They don’t call you senpai anymore and they talk to you normally

And you no longer stare at the blood on their uniform

Night Guard Mark prayed you wouldn’t try to kill him

He might have PTSD from Freddy Fazbear’s

Those animatronics left a mark…

It took a little while for him to trust you not to harm him

When he did, HOO BOY is he a chatterbox

He has so many theories about the Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza Chain

Dark’s told you not to talk about the actual lore. It might break his spirit

You get very worried sometimes

He looks like that one picture of Charlie Day. You know the one.

Sometimes he gets panic attacks

You wrap him in a cocoon of your limbs and wings to ground him

He likes you for that

You hang out, playing games and watching movies. No horror. Absolutely NONE

You can handle him, and he likes you

Dr. Plier was curious about you

He wondered how you felt about… everything

He asked if you were ok one day and you broke down

He felt guilty and bought you ice cream

He sees you as a sort of… psychological experiment

Like he asks you very strange and slightly personal questions

Ok, very personal, but he’s a therapist, what can you do

He eventually stopped the interrogation and talked to you normally

You get along fine, but it’s kind of the same situation as Dr. Iplier

Chef Iplier wasn’t really all that phased

You were surprised by this because… well… wings

But he just… treats you normal, for the most part.

Sometimes he’ll pet your wings, but only if you let him

He loves how soft your feathers are

He doesn’t make that his entire perception of you

It’s a nice change of pace

He tries to cook for you sometimes, but uh. It doesn’t go well

You’re still confused as to how someone can set a glass of water on fire

You mostly just order take out

You hang out like normal people

Which neither of you are, but you’re both fine with that

Paranormal Investigator Mark is obsessed with figuring you out

Nearly had a panic attack when he first saw you

He wanted to prove the supernatural exists, but he didn’t have a lot of evidence before

And then your mystical-ass came along

Like the Jims, he tried to get pictures, and they all ended up blurry

He threw a fit over it, and you felt kinda bad

You tried to take the picture yourself but it came out the same

He gave up after a while

He info dumps about paranormal stuff to you

It can last from 5 minutes to 5 hours

You do pay attention though, and that makes him happy

He takes you on investigations sometimes

You don’t do much except break shit with those giant wings of yours

He stopped taking you on investigations

Cooliplier is not sure what to think

You have wings! Great! There’s absolutely nothing he can do about that

Not the most normal, but not the weirdest either

He tends to put on a tough-guy persona around new people

You were a lil intimidated

Then you became friends and mans did a full 180 around you

Went from “Your daughter calls me daddy too” to “I’ll have her home by 9 sir”

His personality is sort of a mix of the two

Catch you both screaming the lyrics to Mr. Brightside at 12:00 am

Took you to a mosh pit once

You got kicked out cause of the wings

He felt bad, but you had fun

He teaches you how to dance and roller skate

You also go for rides on his motorcycle

Once you just started flying while he was driving and it was the most fun shit ever

You’re “buds”, as he often tells you

Goopiplier likes you a lot

They like having another not-completely-human creature to talk to

I mean, some of the others aren’t exactly human…

But they’re not the best conversationalists…

Then again, neither is goop.

They mention the Dark Gods ONCE and suddenly no one wants to talk to them…

But you do!! Yay!!!

You mostly just hang out, do whatever

Watch movies, play games, or just talk

They like to draw you

They’re not very good, but you keep them all anyways

Sometimes they do… rituals. While you’re around

You are… a little scared, but that’s okay!

You have sleepovers and act like teenagers

You mock the others and then giggle, getting louder as you go

They’re not that funny, but you had to be there

Elder Jeremiah is terrified of you

He nearly pissed his pants when he saw you

He thought he was finally going to have to pay for his sins

He started crying, and you panicked

Why the FUCK was this 20-something-year-old well-dressed man crying at you???

He dropped his bike and fell to his fucking knees and begged for forgiveness

You felt very uncomfortable with the whole situation

You told him to get up bc he was dirtying up his pants

He eventually stopped crying and you told him you were not an angel

Also not a demon, as you said when he asked

He avoids you, mostly, still thinking you’re gonna drag him down to hell

He stopped the uh. The stealing since you came around

He will hang around/with you sometimes to see if you “reveal your true form”

You haven’t yet, and never will, BUT WHEN YOU DO, HE’LL BE THERE

He does think you’re very nice, though

Preistiplier thinks you’re an angel sent to assist him

He is doing holy work, it only makes sense that He would send a helper

He was disappointed, to say the least

He then came to the conclusion that you lost your memory of being an angel

You couldn’t exactly dispute it, since you don’t remember

So, he takes you on hunts

You don’t do much except make a bunch of fucking NOISE with your WINGS

He’d hoped you’d smite the demons

Or at least scare them, but they know you’re not an angel

He still takes you on hunts because, he’d never admit it, but he… gets scared

You promised not to tell a soul

You confess your sins to him sometimes

They’re usually not what he considers sins, but he listens anyways

He thinks you are a good person, and he enjoys conversations with you

Heistiplier was just normal around you

Well… as normal as he can be

You’d enjoy his company a lot more if he didn’t have such a god complex

You still like him a lot

He likes you too

Even if you did refuse to rob a bank with him

He’s a very… exciting person

Though you don’t really want to be around him when he gets upset

The entire world literally seems to revolve around what he does

He’s a drama queen, and completely feral

It’s worrying at times

You two are normal friends

Playing video games, watching youtube, etc. etc.

You listen to his stories and wonder how he's not dead yet

[365:00:00:00]

In the beginning, they know three things. The clock, the channel, and each other.

The two of them are born with closed eyes, hands gripping the others tightly, knees already weak and heads spinning. The first thing the older entity sees when they blink in the light is pale blue eyes and white skin and a silky black suit, spotless and expensive. Parted pink lips and brown, wavy hair falling into a thin face. Haunting, in a sense. From the way they stare at them, the entity could see the other thinks the same of them.

"Who are you?" croaks the being in black. Their voice is hoarse, their Adam's apple bobbing in their throat. "I… head, I -"

Their legs give out, and the other entity follows immediately, grateful to have something to hold onto. Neither being has let go of the others hands. In fact, their grips have tightened, and they seem to drink each other in desperately, shivering with cold and fear.

"I do not… remember much of anything," murmurs the first entity. They look down at their hands; darker than the black being's, and their sleeves are a crisp white instead. A glance at their chest, their legs, tells them they're wearing a fine snowy suit with a vest and tie to match. They can feel something in the pockets. "Who are we, and... why?"

It's then that they glance around themselves. They seem to be in a rather fancy looking room, with white walls and pale cream curtains covering a window that shines through with light. A set of glossy black armchairs sit in front of it, right next to the two entities, and a white rug is sprawled out across the dark wood floor. The two of them turn in unison, and catch sight of the cameras; tall and complex, with mics and lights set up like something is being filmed. On the floor sits a laptop that's open to a page already. The white suited entity glances at the black one, and notices two more things.

"Your suit," they say, and note how their voice is smooth and deep, more certain than the other's. "You have the word "Unus" imprinted on the front. And you… you have a timer above your head."

The other entity's hands immediately release theirs and fly to their chest, running over the stitched embroidery, and then above their head, where the timer floats perfectly above them. Their pale hands pass through the numbers, the black numbers that read "364:23:57:32." Days, hours, minutes, seconds. As they watch, the numbers tick, tick, tick downwards. 31. 30. 29. 28.

"Annus," whispers the black entity. They lower their hands slowly and tap the black entity's chest, drawing attention to the inscription on their suit. "And you have a timer too. White. It says -"

"364:23:57:10," they chorus together. Their voices, so different, seem to fit together. Like they were made to sing one song. Blue eyes sparkle in the white entity's vision. They can't look away from them.

It takes a moment for them to draw away from each other and crawl unprofessionally over to the open laptop on the ground. They're greeted by a tab entitled "YouTube - Unus Annus." The names from their suits, say their eyes when they glance at each other. The header of the page is decorated with a black and white spiral, and there is only one video. Annus immediately recognizes Unus, in their black suit and white skin and waves of dark hair. But who… Oh. This other entity must be themself. Tan and bold, less skinny and small than Unus, black hair swept back from dark eyes. They're beautiful. A hand has found theirs, and they squeeze it without even thinking.

"Us?" Annus says softly, puzzled. They take a sharp intake of breath. "That is us, I think, Unus. Looks like us."

Unus shifts almost uncomfortably. "Do we watch? Why do I remember nothing of who we are or how we got here?"

Annus shakes their head. "Neither do I."

It's then that someone appears in the open doorway. A slim person who is also in a suit, this one mostly black with a white shirt and red tie, with a mess of wavy hair half pulled into a small bun. Tan skin and red-blue eyes, black tattoos etched into their skin. Annus squints. They look almost… like themself.

"Good morning," says the person in the doorway, a soft smile gracing their lips. "I take it you will be our newest -" Their gaze falls on Unus, and their warmth dims. "You do not look like us."

Unus blinks in confusion, struggling to get to their feet while still holding Annus's hand. Annus follows, and they stand before the tattooed person almost awkwardly. Unus clears their throat. "Pardon our… intrusion, my friend. We are not quite sure how we arrived here, and we seem to have found -"

"Yes, let me guess," the tattooed one starts, holding up a jewelry coated hand to stop them. "A video on Mark's channel, featuring yourselves. I am… not sure what the smaller one of you is doing here, but we shall welcome you all the same. Now, let us see your video, so I may get a better idea of what you are and what you do."

The entities step back as the other one comes forward. Annus opens their mouth to speak. "May I ask what we should call you? I believe our names are Unus and Annus. They seem to fit right."

The tattooed one pauses. "Unus and Annus," they murmur, tapping their chin. "Well, I go by many names, in many languages from many cultures. I believe the two of you may wish to know me as Tenebris." They extend a hand to shake. Unus and Annus use the hands they aren't holding the others with to shake back, silent. "At your service. Now, let us see this video…"

Tenebris picks the laptop gently off the floor, carrying it to one of the black armchairs that the entities spawned next to. Already they're frowning. "This does not make sense," they murmur, thick eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "This is not the correct channel. Were you made as a joke, like so many of them?" They suddenly look up as if remembering Unus and Annus are there, then pats the seat beside them. "Come, sit. This is very important for the two of you."

They do so. Tenebris is flicking through the channel, mumbling to themself, then taking a deep sigh. "Oh, dear. It looks as though the two of you are involved in Mark's latest project, which he is seemingly doing with another man, his friend Ethan - hence you." They look Unus right in the eyes. Something sad dances in them. "Oh, dear."

"Who is Mark?" Annus pipes up. Their chest feels strangely tight. "What project? Explain, why are we here?"

Tenebris blinks, their eyes falling back down to the screen. They look exhausted, like they haven't slept in weeks. Instead of answering, or maybe as an answer, they read.

""What would you do if you only had a year left to live?"" they begin, voice softer now, lighter. ""Would you squander the time you had left? Or would you make every second count?""

Their eyes flutter closed. ""Welcome to Unus Annus.""

Unus squeezes Annus's hand. They don't turn to look at them.

""In exactly 365 days,"" Tenebris continues, though how they're reading with their eyes closed is beyond the two entities. ""This channel will be deleted along with all the daily uploads accumulated since then. Nothing will be saved. Nothing will be reuploaded. This is your one chance to join us at the onset of our adventure. To be there from the start. To make every second count. Subscribe now and relish what little time we have left or have the choice made for you as we disappear from existence forever. But remember… everything has an end."" They pause, and open their eyes. ""Even you.""

Annus can't breathe. They don't lower their gaze, however, staring straight ahead with a steely glint in their eyes. Unus's grip on their hand loosens, just slightly.

"Mark and his friend," Tenebris says sharply, something dark in their voice, something furious. "Have given the two of you a death sentence."

[364:15:22:18]

They feel far calmer about this than they should.

Tenebris, to their credit, tries. They offer to introduce the entities to "the others" - more poor souls created by this same Mark person. Annus asks if they also are ticking time bombs, given expiration dates for which to go off. Tenebris sadly murmurs a no. Annus then nods, and politely asks for them and Unus to be left alone until they can adjust themselves. Tenebris leaves them, although their gaze seems to linger on the two of them as they go.

Now they're sitting on a roof. Neither is quite sure how they got here - they don't remember walking upstairs, but the times above their heads are the same, so they must have arrived quickly - but it doesn't matter, because they're both together. From here, the world is beautiful. They seem to have spawned in some sort of mansion, with a pool and garden and golf course and even an enormous chessboard down below, somewhere in the middle of the mountains. Around them, all they see is fog and rock and trees and sky and stars. Somewhere far off, lights dance. A city. Annus dimly wonders if Mark and Ethan, their reckless creators, are out there. They hear fall crickets sing loudly, searching for something in the dark.

"A year," Unus says aloud. Their voice is high, yet stable. Their eyes are trained on the far off lights. Maybe thinking the same thing as Annus. "We have a year to live, Annus."

"Mhm," the white entity agrees, trailing their fingers across the rooftop material. They're not quite sure when they let go of Unus's hand.

Unus looks at them. Something sparkles in their gaze. "A year is a long time," they say loudly, confidently. "A whole year. That is - that is such a long time, my friend! A whole year! What do you think of that, Annus? A year to do whatever we want!"

Annus takes a moment. One year. They still have so much time, don't they? So much time. What is there to worry about? 365 days is a great many days to spend being alive.

"A year," they nod back, and a grin cracks their face. "We have plenty of time. No need to start mourning now."

Unus's face lights up at Annus's agreement, and the two of them bask in the warmth for a moment. Because of course a year is such a long time. Why spend the days worrying? They should live instead.

Annus takes Unus's hand and they watch the stars.

[360:20:59:45]

They start to learn things.

First of all. Mark and Ethan, true to their promise, upload daily on the channel. Unus and Annus watch every video. It helps for them to know what their creators are up to, to know if they'll do anything else stupid that will affect the two of them. But no, it seems they're simply having a lot of fun - in the first few days alone, they cook a meal with the most unsavory of appliances, pour warm water in their nostrils, attempt to eat a great deal of hot dogs all at once, and create a homemade sensory deprivation tank. In all honesty, this amuses Unus more than anything. "Let them have their fun," they tell Annus one day, a playful grin on their face. "They have their year, we have ours. We do not need to concern ourselves with their ridiculous antics all the time!"

It does bother them that Mark and Ethan own suits identical to theirs, and seem to enjoy pretending to be them in certain videos. They would appear in front of a black and white spiral, talking seriously about time running out and video subscriptions - something Unus and Annus find ridiculous. "They wish they were us," is all Annus says to Unus about it. "Foolish idiots."

The two of them are also, gradually, introduced to the rest of Mark's creations. After a couple days of continuing to be introduced to more and more, Unus starts realizing why Tenebris was so nonchalant about them showing up. Mark is reckless, it seems. Very, very much so.

One of Mark's older creations, a man named Caleb, who everyone apparently calls "Silver" or "Argentum" as a nickname, tells them a bit more. "Mark has always been a little uncaring about who or what he creates," he says to them as they walk through the gardens, admiring the flowers that were allegedly planted entirely by the man known as the Host, who is blind and mutters narrations under his breath as he hurries around, dropping papers behind him. Annus picked up one of his sheets one day and refused to tell Unus what was on it, eyes blown wide. The others are very strange. "However, he doesn't know he has the power of creation, so we give him the benefit of the doubt."

Annus looks up sharply, startling Unus, who had been lost in thought staring at the flowers. "He does not know? How?"

Argentum sighs, tapping his hands on his dark blue jean pockets. Unus, ever unable to concentrate, stares at a red stain on the man's green plaid shirt as he talks. "A long, long fuckin' time ago, shit happened with Mx Dark - who you know as Tenebris, I believe - and Wilford. I don't know if you've met him - pink themed, mustache, bow tie and suspenders?"

Unus and Annus nod. Wilford was odd - calling Annus "Damien," and asking if Unus was there to serve them ice cream. Argentum nods with them, seemingly relieved he has one less thing to explain. "Right, well. They're the only two here who technically weren't created by Mark. A long time ago, like a hundred years or so, they were friends with some guy who was fucked up and did fucked up shit or something like that. He died over and over again, but always came back. Dark and Wilford chased him for years as the guy bounced from host to host… but now we're here. He's clung to Mark as a host and seemingly gave him creation powers. Mark isn't aware." Argentum shrugs at the entity's awestruck looks. "That's all I know. But now, whenever Mark makes Youtube videos that feature characters - and trust me, there's a lot of them - another one of us appears."

Unus has a great deal of questions about that. But Annus speaks first. "Then how did Unus get here?" they ask, gently knocking against the black entity's shoulder. "Does this Ethan have the same powers?"

Argentum looks uncomfortable. They walk slowly over to the wall that looks down on the forest below, extending into the mountains, and leans against it. "I dunno," he mutters, adjusting his glasses on his face. "Dark doesn't know either, but they don't seem too concerned, so it should be fine."

Unus clicks their tongue. "Weird," they whisper, then looks to Annus and giggles. But Annus isn't looking back. They're staring right at Argentum, and their eyes are dark as they bore into the back of the man's head.

"This man," they say, and Unus notices them clenching their fists tightly, then loosening them, then tightening them again. "This man who is possessing Mark, who's giving him these strange powers - how old is he?"

Argentum turns and shrugs, glancing at the leather strapped watch around his wrist. "'Bout a hundred or so. He lived in this very house, once, this mansion where we all live now. Achieved immortality or something and is off bothering humans like the bastard he is. We try to stay out his way."

Annus breathes unsteadily for a moment. Unus, unsure of what's wrong, takes their friend's hand. Annus jumps, then looks down. Unus tries to smile and look reassuring. The older entity seems to sag.

"Alright," they say, like nothing had happened. "Thank you, Argentum. It was pleasant talking to you."

Argentum looks up, puzzled. "But aren't you going to see the rest...of the... garden."

He's alone by the time his eyes have left the clock.

[325:09:17:16]

The entities, they discover, are not bound to the House like they had thought they were.

"Of course you can go outside of here," says seventeen year old Ayano, a small Japanese-Korean girl who is also apparently one of Mark's. "None of us particularly have to stay here, except for the Attorney. They stay in the mirror on the bottom floor."

Unus doesn't question that. They don't question much of anything anymore. "I was not aware that we could leave," they admit sheepishly, shrugging in a motion that they learned from Erik, the socially anxious boy with the yellow handkerchief who had run from the entities on their first meeting. They had made only a little progress since then. "Do you often go visit the humans down the mountain?"

Ayano tilts her head, and Unus unconsciously follows the motion. This makes the girl smirk slightly, and she brushes a scruffy red fringe out her eyes and draws her knees to her chest on the kitchen sideboard where she's sitting. "I'm homeschooled, so I have no reason to. Or, if Edward asks you, I have no reason to." Her brown eyes glint mischievously, and she lowers her voice. "I like to go check out the American boys at the nearby school."

Annus snorts. Unus ignores them. "Right, right... good to know. Thank you, Ayano. We may go down soon."

Ayano twirls her hand and says nothing. Unus and Annus leave the room, barely dodging one of the four coloured robots with the G's on their chests that often walk the house. Annus speaks before Unus can. "So," they start, grinning in the same way Ayano had. The mischief in their head shines through their eyes. "Do you want to go visit some humans?"

[325:08:53:00]

Tenebris's manor, it turns out, isn't too far up the mountain from the city below. In fact, given Unus and Annus's strange ability to seemingly teleport occasionally without meaning to, they get down pretty quick. It's only once they start coming across more humans, however, that things begin to feel different.

They're on a large street now, surrounded by shops and other roads and a bike rack and bins and what looked like a courthouse not far off and people, lots and lots of them, surrounding them completely. Annus can't help but feel curious. Humans, without timers on their heads. They wonder how long these people have to live. They wonder if they themselves look like they are near death. If people would act any differently if so.

They jump, however, when they realize Unus is talking. "Annus," they hiss softly, knocking the back of their hand against theirs. Annus notices they also look slightly overwhelmed, paler than usual, gnawing at their bottom lip. "This is weird - do you agree this is weird?"

Annus nods, grateful that they're not the only one having strange thoughts. "I know, right? Because there are so many people around us right now, and we were talking about how unlucky it is that we were created with an expiration date, but honestly? There could be someone here who could die within the next ten minutes. We are lucky we have a year, a whole year, because even though we could have had more, we also could have had so much less and it is beautiful how life works that we -"

"Actually," Unus interrupts, grimacing slightly. "I meant it is weird that no one is questioning the suits. Or the magic floating timers."

Annus deflates slightly. "Seriously? Tenebris literally told us that there is a magic called the Veil which manipulates the senses of humans to believe that we are completely normal. They gave us the rundown on all the different magics just yesterday."

Unus pauses. "Oh," they say, sounding faintly embarrassed. "I was not listening. Apologies."

Annus rolls their eyes. Already they're going back to thinking, and maybe it's bad to have so many philosophical thoughts in their head all at once, especially so early in the day - so they're lucky when Unus interrupts yet again. "So what do we do now? Mark and Ethan do odd things because they have a year left to live. Should we?"

That's a thought Annus had considered. "We do not have to be like them. They have decided to live ridiculously for their last year. It is completely undignified. There is no need for us to lose any respect we may have from Tenebris or the others simply for a bit of… whatever it is that Mark and Ethan get out of being idiots."

Unus, it seems, has stopped listening. Without Annus even noticing, they have slipped into the doorway of a nearby shop and grabbed something before immediately darting out again, falling into quick step beside them. They grin at the disbelieving Annus, proudly holding a bag of pink and white marshmallows in their hands.

"You completely just stole that," Annus says, stunned.

Unus shrugs. "Eh, no one saw. Somehow. This Veil thing really does work wonders. Say, Annus -" They pop open the bag, cramming a marshmallow into their mouth before holding it out to their friend. "Do you think we have magic like Tenebris's or Wilford's? We can sometimes do something close to teleportation, yes, but that is not exactly the kind of magic I -"

Annus holds up their hands, pausing in their tracks. "Hang on. Are we going to completely skip over the part where you stole a bag of marshmallows?"

Unus also stops, widening their eyes in a motion of mock shock. "I did, didn't I! How fantastic! I do wonder if I will be arrested!"

They almost skip ahead, humming to themself, the timer ticking noiselessly above their head.

[301:20:45:01]

To the entities, Mark and Ethan are an embarrassing mockery of humankind, and a childish, disgusting one as well.

"Bugs," Unus grimaces. The two of them aren't even watching the video in which the youtubers ate bugs; they're sitting in one of the dimly lit rooms Tenebris assigned for them, Annus's one, and watching today's video, which is about salsa dancing. But Unus hasn't shut up about the bugs since it happened. "Annus, I cannot get the bugs out my head."

Annus sighs. "They also ate Play-Doh and drank each other's piss, Unus."

"A whole bug head. He ripped it right off."

Annus pauses the video and turns to face Unus seriously. "We get it. They ate bugs. They are gross. Why are you so stuck on the bug thing, anyway?"

Unus leans back in his seat, slumping against the glossy pleather and sighing dramatically. "He tore the bugs whole head right off, Annus. Can you imagine?"

The room is silent for a few moments before Unus's dreamy expression wears off and they open their eyes to meet Annus's unimpressed glare. "What?" they say, throwing up their hands. "I just admire him."

"You are not supposed to admire him," Annus says through gritted teeth. Their shoes are tapping off the floor; they can't seem to stop it. "They are both fools and will likely get themselves killed before the year is up. What is there to admire? Their lack of survival skills?"

Unus bobs their head from side to side, staring at the paused screen. "They have fun. All we do is walk around and talk. The marshmallow stealing I did was the most fun I have had so far."

Annus's room is rather empty. There is a bed they don't use, because sleep is nothing to them, as they've learned, and there are white curtains over a large window, and there is a red rug and black wardrobe and a bedside table with a knife-carved spiral in it. Annus insists they don't care for mortal belongings and that physical objects mean nothing to them. Really, they think they're just scared to own anything, but they won't admit this to Unus. Especially now, when the emptiness seems to stretch, far beyond the room and into Annus's chest, tightening painfully. Something in them aches. The timer above Unus's head ticks, ticks, ticks without sound. Annus wishes there was sound. Tick. Tick. Tick.

"What sort of fun," Annus hisses, dangerously low. "Do you wish to have?"

Unus doesn't pick up on the danger in their voice. "Anything. We are wasting our time like this, Annus."

Annus closes their eyes. "We have all year," they murmur. "We will make the most of it. We have all year."

Unus hums. They say nothing more. Their thoughts are loud, however, and Annus almost drowns in them.

They unpause the video.

[292:17:22:10]

Los Angeles is big. There are lots of places for someone to hide, should they wish to.

Annus never wants to be separate from Unus, they don't. But today they are. It's for their own good. Of course it's for their own good. It's silly to get attached to someone who's going to die, and maybe Unus needs a reminder of that.

It wasn't hard to get Mark's address. And that wasn't even the scary part. No, no, that wasn't the scary part. Annus knows what the scary part will be.

Mark, when Annus sees him, is smaller than they expected.

Not in terms of physical size. Physically, they're identical. No, it's the way Mark carries himself. He raises himself, tall and bold, but Annus sees what he hides behind. Not a lack of confidence. Not an unsureness. It's something more, and they can't quite pin it. But Mark feels small. Annus feels powerful. Annus feels big.

Mark is tired. Annus can feel it. The man is dressed in a pair of joggies and a white hoodie - merch for the channel, which makes Annus's heart rate spike with anger. Mark's hair sticks up at the back, like he's just awoken from sleep at six am. His glasses are crooked. His eyes are brighter than Annus's. Something about that aches.

Mark makes toast. Annus waits for him to see them.

And when Mark turns, when Mark's bright, keen eyes widen, when his mouth falls open and his plate slips from his hand and shatters on the floor next to his bare feet, Annus is ready. Annus is beside Mark before he knows it, a hand on the back of his neck, one hand over his mouth. Annus smiles. They can see the spirals in their black eyes reflected in their creator's glasses.

"Shh, shh," they soothe, pushing Mark's hair back from his face. "Good job. Quiet now, Mark. Quiet."

Time is strange. It flows in one direction at the speed of 24 hours per day, 1440 minutes per day, 86400 seconds per day. Annus is suddenly aware of all of it. They are aware of the over 11,200 days, the 270,000 hours, the 16,00,000 minutes, the 966,080,000 seconds that Mark has been alive. They are suddenly aware of all of it.

Life feels strange in their hands.

[291:11:56:58]

Unus Annus uploads "Mark Punishes Ethan." Unus is very silent as they watch it. Annus is also silent, but for a different reason.

"That was fake, right?" Unus says in a small voice after the video's done. "Ethan edited this one. Mark wouldn't have made him edit his own - he loves Ethan, right? Annus? That was fake, right, Annus?"

"Su-ure," Annus says. Unus bites their lip.

That night, Annus watches Mark hit Ethan over and over again and remembers the feeling of Mark being putty in their hands.

[275:10:49:59]

Annus has paid Mark a few more visits. It is, they find, almost too easy, to inspire bloodlust in a previously stable man. Or was he previously stable? Annus checks Mark's eyes. They can see a past in there. Maybe Annus's work isn't far off from what Mark does to himself anyway.

On their last visit, Mark sits up and grins with a fire in his eyes.

"Clever, clever," he purrs in a voice silkier and darker than his own. "Maybe this year will last well for you yet."

When Annus leaves Mark that day, they're shaken. They track down Argentum and corner him, immediately demanding to know the name of the immortal man who had possessed Mark, the one who'd given him the power of creation as well.

"Well, funny story," Argentum says, sounding slightly nervous with the way Annus has him pinned against the wall. "Funny story, but I believe his name was Mark as well. To tell them apart, we all call immortal Mark "The Actor." Why do you ask? Annus? You don't look well. Annus? Hey, Annus?"

[255:13:15:55]

Unus is many things, but they aren't stupid.

They know Annus is visiting Mark. They just know. Watching Mark's behaviour on the channel change, hearing the blood thump in Annus's veins when their creator appears on screen - they know. They know their friend is lying. And they know they broke their promise, the mutual agreement not to speak with the men who made them.

Therefore, Unus doesn't feel bad appearing in Ethan's house at three am one day.

Ethan is strange up close. Strange, because he's so Unus-like, of course, but there are the slightest differences. Ethan has darker hair, while Unus has found theirs to be lightening. Ethan has pinker skin, while Unus is paler, grayer. Ethan's chest rises and falls as he sleeps, small, whistling breaths escaping through his teeth. Unus's chest is still, most of the time.

Ethan's eyes, when they open, are a more vibrant blue.

"Do not," Unus says immediately. Ethan shuts up. Unus glances around Ethan's cluttered room, clicking their tongue at the piles of clothes and papers and workout equipment strewn across the floor before dragging over a chair, dumping the jacket and bag that was on it to join the rest of the mess. They sit. Ethan has propped himself up on his elbows, staring, eyes wide with shaky fear. Unus likes it. They find it's almost fun to make someone afraid.

"This is a dream," they say. Their head bobs slowly, hand tapping off their knee as if to some unheard rhythm. "You are dreaming, Ethan. I am not here."

A shaky breath leaves Ethan's lips. "Not here."

"Not here," Unus agrees. They drag a hand across Ethan's forehead, smiling softly. "Not here. Are you enjoying your year, Ethan?"

Ethan hums, eyelids fluttering shut. "Mhm. Been making good use of… time, think…"

Unus raises an eyebrow. "Uh huh. Have you noticed a change in Mark lately, Ethan?"

Even as out of it as Ethan now is, he still looks slightly distressed at the question. "Y-yeah. He acts… scary, sometimes. I think it's for a bit, but then he snaps a bit. His eyes change colour. They turned, like, white the other day… I dunno if it was a bit, he didn't say…"

Unus listens. Unus goes home.

[255:11:46:09]

"You lied," is the first thing Unus says when they arrive in Annus's room. "You have been seeing Mark. Manipulating him, even. What is your deal, Mori?"

Annus had been expecting this. They are standing by the open window, staring down at the golf course next to the cliffside below, but they turn when Unus comes in. The death omen is blazing with rage. Their eyes are black and hollow, and something seems to radiate from them, something dark. Annus decides to tread carefully.

"I want to drive him and Ethan apart," they say simply. That's not entirely a lie. "Why does it matter?"

Unus shakes their head in disbelief, momentarily stunned silent. "I - Why? What do you gain from that?"

Annus finds a smirk on their face. "Entertainment!" they exclaim. This is also not a lie. "Look, Unus, Mark and Ethan abandoned us. Created us with an expiration date then left. Why not fuck about with them a bit?"

Unus lowers their arms to their sides. Their black eyes melt back into their normal white sclera and blue irises, and they sigh through their nose loud enough for Annus to hear. "You said so yourself," they say quietly. "We are lucky to have the time we do. Mark and Ethan… this is their last year before death too. We need not ruin it for them."

Annus says nothing. Unus walks over to them and hesitates before taking the other's hand, holding it gently in their own. Both of them are cold.

"Let us live, and let them live," Unus says softly. Their eyes are burning cold. Annus could drown in them. "And let us not waste time."

[234:22:55:01]

"You start with casting on," Bim says loudly, holding up the yarn and knitting needles in his hands. "This is how you turn loose yarn into neat little stitchy stitches that sit oh-so perfectly on your needle. Now -"

"May I ask," Unus interrupts, tapping his own needles together on their lap. "Why do so many of Mark's egos wear suits?"

The sun is bright today. Unus didn't expect to be sitting on a bench in the garden learning to knit with Annus and a few other egos today, but Erik had come to their rooms and asked politely, all shy, and how could one say no? So now they're soaking up the sun, practically sweating in their solid black suit, breathing heavily and swinging their legs back and forth through the warm air. Erik, sitting in the grass with Ayano and the Host (who's at his most undignified that Unus has ever seen, criss cross on a picnic blanket and somehow weaving a daisy chain with bandages over his eyes), flashes Unus a grin and answers for Bim. "He thinks he looks good," he says, voice trembling slightly, which isn't unusual for him. Erik clears his throat and adjusts his collar. "So a lot of us have… interesting outfits. Annus, you got off lightly."

"I can imagine," Annus says dryly. They wipe sweat from their forehead, groaning softly. "I have seen King once or twice around here, although he does not seem very social. One of his squirrels broke into my room the other day and tracked peanut butter all over the floor."

"Is that why you told me to stay away from your room?" Unus says, a small smile splitting their face. "Aw, Annus, you do care. Guys, they care about me!"

Annus flips them off while Erik, Ayano, and Argentum, who is laying in the grass near Annus, laugh. "I actually hate you and I am terribly glad we need only spend a year together," they say curtly, raising their chin. "You are all awful."

"Notice how they go all formal and dramatic when they are trying to be angry," Unus whispers to Ayano, who giggles. Annus rolls their eyes again.

They've only been here a few months, and already, Unus and Annus have become quite close with most of Mark's other creations. Argentum, Ayano and Erik are the most friendly ones - Argentum cooks elaborate, unusual meals for them to try, Erik leaves them little trinkets outside their doors, and Ayano is teaching them both Japanese swordfighting and self defense. The Googles are seen around on occasion. Blue prefers to stay close to Bim or King, often hiding out in the forest, and Red stays out of their way, generally. Yellow and Green are the kindest. Unus and Annus once spent an afternoon with them while Erik repaired them after a fight with Google Blue, the five of them talking for hours. Then there's Ed Edgar, who's constantly high and speaks in proverbs. He doesn't seem to mind having the entities around, but makes for rather circular conversation. The Host is weird and mysterious, which the omens enjoy. The doctor, Edward, acts as a parental figure for Erik and Ayano, and therefore tolerates Unus and Annus. He taught them some medical terminology, just for the fun of it. King prefers to stay in the forest with the squirrels, and Bim is often not home, but when he is he has blood on his sleeves and his too-sharp teeth. Bing, the other android, is athletic and funny and acts as a fitness trainer for the both of them. And the Jim brothers, CJ and RJ, are excitable, noisy and far too in love with the concept of a self destructing channel for their own good. They're teaching Unus and Annus ASL, which is fun. Honestly, the two omens are starting to learn to love it here.

Because of all the people they're sharing a home with, they've had a lot to do. Lots to learn, lots to keep up with - cooking and languages, sports and exercise… and apparently, knitting. This one was Bim's idea, and Unus was pleasantly surprised to see they have a hobby outside of cannibalism. To be honest, the death omen has no clue what they're making, but the air is warm and smells faintly like rain and barbeque and it's fun, not thinking about the clock above their head. It's fun just simply being.

"Anyway," Bim says, sounding slightly irritated from being interrupted. "To cast your yarn, you need to pinch the yarn and make a small loop, leaving a yarn tail. Grab the unattached yarn and bring it up behind the loop -"

"Why do you two have to die?"

This outburst startles everyone, and they all turn to look at Erik, who is red in the face and whose lip is quivering like he's near tears. "Sorry," he mumbles, and it seems he really is near tears, eyes sparkling. He scrubs at them fiercely with his yellow handkerchief. "I just - it's h-hard, loving people and see-seeing them d-die all the - all the time - I c-c-care about you g-guys, and I - and I - and I don't want to l-lose more people -"

The Host is already moving closer to Erik, murmuring soft reassurances into his ear. Ayano is holding him in her arms, a fierce protectiveness in her dark red eyes. Argentum dithers nearby, staring down at the boy sadly. Bim is opening his phone, suddenly silent and refusing to look up. Annus just looks uncomfortable, twisting their hands in their lap. And Unus… Unus feels something heavy sinking in their stomach, something they can't explain. Without even meaning to, they slip off the bench and to their knees next to the crying boy, which startles him enough that he looks up. Unus and Erik stare at each other for a moment. Unus's lips part. Their skin feels like it's burning.

They don't realize they've placed a hand on Erik's shoulder until they're no longer there in the garden.

Their eyes open to the inside of a bus, bright mountain scenery going by the giant windows. It's small and cramped, and seems to somehow be fitting what looks like an entire family inside. Fifteen people and sixteen dogs, Unus counts instantly, all of varying ages and styles. The youngest looks to be about twelve, dressed in white overalls, while the oldest is a cheery looking middle aged man wearing all white and lounging across the seats at the front. Unus spots Erik immediately. Sitting in between two brothers - because these are brothers, of course they are, this is a family - and laughing. He's laughing. Laughing, and wearing a pair of shorts with a tucked in collared shirt, covered in orange flowers. No prosthetics. Not shaky, not near tears. Unus has never seen the young boy as happy as he looks here.

"Pass me the DS, Terik!" Erik crows, grinning as he makes a grab at the device his older brother is holding.

The other boy, pimpled and wearing a baggy yellow hoodie, laughs and holds it away from him. "Fuck off, I'm training Maggie! I just managed to get a new chihuahua and I'm gonna win gold with this gal, don't you think? Look at her! Look at her, don't grab - Larik, will you restrain the orange menace for me, please?"

The boy next to the window, who is short and stout with curly hair and braces, teasingly tugs at Erik's arms. "Give the man some space," he says in a deep voice, grinning. "He's playing his super important game, let's leave him to concentrate on his deeply intense gameplay -"

"Nintendogs is intense gameplay!" Terik protests, and shoves Erik into Larik's side. "If you two are gonna be assholes, go sit next to Smerik or something. He's passed out, probably stinks of vom - Hey, Denny, when are we getting there? We've been on this stupid school bus for hours!"

Unus turns to face the front. It's then that they focus on themself, and notice something strange - they are holding a long black scythe in their right hand, their face reflected in the blade. Their eyes are a solid, empty black, their hair a glossy white. Something about them seems much more gaunt and hollow. Unus takes a moment to gape at themself, and is disgusted by how old and brittle they look, grey and pale and broken.

"Listen, dude, I'm not gonna go over the goddamn speed limit!" someone shouts, startling Unus from their thoughts. A man, sitting in the driver's seat, with patchy facial hair and wearing a blue cap and jeans, a crumpled cigarette hanging out his mouth. He glances away from the road, making a face at his brothers behind him. "We'll get there when we get there!"

"Fuck the speed limit!" cheers another boy, this one wearing black sunglasses and a baggy hoodie that hangs over the ends of his arms. He kicks his flip flops into the air, whistling. "We're in the mountains, Den-Den, no coppers anywhere near here! Why don't you let me drive?"

"Because you're bloody blind, Sterik?" the driver deadpans, and the bus erupts with laughter. Unus watches the boy sink lower in his seat, face burning with humiliation, even as Denny continues talking. "And I don't wanna risk Dad getting a call. He's already gonna flip his shit when he gets a call from Renny's school about the missing schoolbus and connects it to us being missing. He'll fuckin' kill us, but hey - some time away from him and his stupid business will be good for all of us. Especially you, Erik. He hasn't let up on you since -"

"He got Mom killed?" Sterik suddenly snaps. The bus goes silent. Erik, previously giggling with all the rest of them, goes very silent. The youngest boy, frowning, shifts in his seat.

"Not his fault Mom died," he mutters. He brushes biscuit crumbs off his overalls and glances nervously towards Sterik, then towards his other brothers for support. "It was an accident -"

"Termites," spits the angry boy, flapping his sleeves and practically sitting. "She fell through the fucking floor because of him -"

"Language," says another boy loudly, this one with dyed blonde hair and black tattoos. This immediately earns him a harsh laugh from Sterik.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" the boy cheers. Erik, Unus notices, has shrunk down completely in his seat. Familiar tears well in his eyes. Unus grips their scythe and bites their lip, unsure of what to do. None of the brothers have seen them. They cannot intervene in what's happening.

Without warning, Terik stands and staggers to the middle aisle of the bus. "Course it's Erik's fault," he booms, waving his DS in the air. Erik, next to him and still sitting, visibly flinches. "But who fucking cares? I wanna get to the mountains and streak naked through the trees. Who gives a fuck about anything Erik did right now? Come on, Denny, speed up a 'lil."

Larik, still sitting next to Erik, sighs deeply. "Let's shut up about this," he says, sounding tired. "Hey, Killian, come here, kiddo -"

"Oh yeah, let's shut up." This is Sterik. He is standing now, facing Terik and grinning coldly at the ground. "Let's never acknowledge what happened and drive off to the stupid fucking mountains away from Dad and leave him alone to break his hand punching holes through the walls in Mom's room again when he's pretending not to miss her but he's sitting in her bed reading through her notebooks." He spins round, getting his bearings and stepping towards the driver's seat. "Come on, Denny, lemme drive. You're no fucking fun."

"Sterik!" choruses at least three brothers at once, not including Erik. Erik is covering his ears, sinking low in his seat, gripping his yellow handkerchief tightly. A jolt shoots through Unus - hadn't the boy said that had been a gift from his mother?

They aren't given time to comprehend it. A tall, slim boy with shaggy hair has also gotten up, pushing past Terik to get to Sterik at the front of the bus. "Enough," he shouts, tugging his little brother's arm roughly. "Siddown, bro, this is silly -"

Unus's body goes cold, and Sterik shoves and grabs the wheel, and a dog barks, and Erik - Erik. Erik looks Unus dead in the eye. For a moment, he sees. He looks so much younger and smaller than the Erik Unus knows. He has seen death, and - and he is about to see more. The tragedies in this boy's life are not yet done. Unus's pulse quickens, and a strange peace settles over them. They close their eyes.

The bus screeches, and then the wheels no longer touch the rocky ground -

Unus raises their scythe -

And they are in the garden again, and Erik's eyes are once again wide in front of them, full of the fear of death, full of guilt and grief, and Unus understands.

"You lost your family," they murmur, drawing their hand away from Erik's shoulder to his chin. His face is pale and sweaty, and Unus feels his breath hitch as their eyes meet. Unus's hand feels empty without the scythe to hold. "You have not yet finished grieving them. A mother, fourteen brothers, pets - and you blame yourself."

"H-how do - do you kn-ow that?" Erik whispers, fear piercing his trembling voice. He looks over at the others sitting near him, but Unus doesn't break eye contact. Erik swallows, and shrinks back from Unus's gaze. "Unus - Your h-hair, your - your eyes - Wh-what are you d-d-doing?"

Erik Derekson has seen death. Unus can see it in his eyes. There is something dark and haunted there. He doesn't understand, yet. Unus doesn't either.

"We have a year," they say to the shivering, unlucky boy who has seen more death than any child his age should have to. "You will not lose us just yet. Time is ours, for now. Do not be scared. We have a year."

[234:17:12:00]

Later, Unus tells Annus they have no clue what happened, which is true. Annus fills them in. According to them, one moment Unus had just been sitting there, then they had touched Erik's shoulder and the air had gone cold. Their hair had begun to glow white, and their eyes had melted to black before they suddenly started talking about Erik's family. There had been no explanation for it, and Erik had been rather terrified. Bim nearly threw a fit when the boy left his knitting materials to go back inside, Ayano and Argentum in tow. Unus hadn't meant to scare him. They'd merely wanted to offer reassurance.

"I am not sure what came over me," Unus admits, their shoulders rising to their ears. Their hair has faded back to brown, albeit a bit lighter than before, and their eyes are blue again, albeit slightly darker. Their reflection looks wrong. "I believe I… saw Erik's memories. I saw the deaths of his brothers when they went over the mountainside. I was there." They look Annus right in the eyes. "Mor, I held the scythe that killed them. What is happening to me?"

Annus can't answer. They take Unus's hand and they both look at their reflections. Unus sees death in their eyes.

The timers over their heads continue to tick. The soundlessness is beginning to drive the entity insane.

[233:15:23:12]

Unus speaks to Erik the next day.

"I am sorry," they say. "For what happened. I did not mean to get into your head the way I did. I… do not know my own power."

The two of them are on the porch, late at night, staring out across the gardens that spill close to the edge of the mountainside. Erik's glasses are fogged up, so Unus can't see where he's looking exactly, but they can tell the boy is shivering in his baggy red hoodie that they're pretty sure belongs to Ayano. "That's ok," Erik mumbles, tapping the wooden fence with his fingers. His nails are chipped black. Unus wonders which of Mark's creations painted them. "I know you didn't mean it. It's just strange, knowing you saw… that."

Unus nods stiffly. Their neck aches, and their collar feels like it's choking them. "Mhm. The abilities I have been given are strange." They pause. "I am sorry about your family."

Erik shrugs, glasses glinting in the light of the porch lantern above them. "Not your fault. F-freak accidents have killed just about everyone I love. That's just… a fact of life that I can't ch-change. I'm unlucky. I guess that's the - that's the c-curse Mark put on me."

Crickets chirp in the grass somewhere. Unus and Annus had gone out a few nights ago to hunt for them before eating tuna sandwiches on the chess board. They're thinking about that as they answer. "Does Mark intentionally create flaws in his creations, or does he really not know?"

Another shrug, and Erik bites his nails. He doesn't seem to notice he's doing it. "A lot of us have weird catches in our c-c-creations. Like, Bim is a game show host, but his shows never take off, like, proper. The Googles have to obey whoever has their command phrase. Bing breaks easily. Dark has really bad insomnia. Wilford can't remember anything from his past. Host is blind and bleeds constantly from his eyes. Silver can't tell his girlfriend the truth about who he is or about Mark. The Jims only have each other. Ed is an asshole, although I don't think that's Mark's fault necessarily. King is a bit of an idiot - not that I don't like him! He's j-just an - an idiot. Doc didn't go to med school. Ayano can't keep a boyfriend cause she's too, uh, possessive. And… me." He takes a deep, shaky breath. "I'm unlucky. I g-get people I love k-k-killed."

Unus doesn't know how to respond to this.

"Death comes for us all," they say, which isn't the right response.

"I kn-know that b-better tha-an anyone," the seventeen year old boy responds. He sniffles and wipes his face. "I don't wanna l-lose - I don't - you and Annus -"

Unus pats Erik's shoulder gently. "We have time. We have time."

Fall field crickets, which is the most common cricket type in this area of LA, usually only live for up to a year. Just one year. They sing every night, searching for a mate. Searching for purpose. Unus can almost understand that. With a year to live, not much can be accomplished, and of course no one would want to be alone for so long. It almost hurts, hearing their neverending song. It sounds like loneliness. It reminds Unus of the days they have left, the days that they're desperately trying to cling to.