Soft and gentle droplets of an unknown substance echoed in the darkness.
Scrappy, lying on still-warm splattered organs, suddenly coughed... a dry, short, hacking cough.
He weakly opened his eyes, then chuckled as the thought of him still being alive flooded his mind.
As he realized he couldn't control his sudden euphoria, he tried to cover his mouth from its giggling...
Yet, he couldn't move his burned hands...
or rather... they were already broken, and a piercing sensation, far worse than the mere fact of broken bones, ripped through his euphoria.
Grunting, he forced himself to prone... and hardly tried to check the status of his body.
Both his knees were broken, followed by his feet sizzling from the green mucus that came from the splattered Metabeasts he used as a cushion for his fall.
His burned hand, along with its forearm, was now squeezed flat, forcing his own bones to pierce out of it.
Yet, the numbing sensation of his whole body prevailed, and only his upper part could feel the pain.
Scrappy smiled, a smile that never failed its glint against adversity.
'At least... I survived.'
In a place where darkness never ended, a single light of a matchstick could be seen from end to end.
As he scanned around his own resting place, Scrappy found a glimmering hue, transitioning from neon green to a neon blue.
Scrappy laughed, and crawled to it... dragging his whole body with his only arm, assisted by his chin and one good shoulder.
"At least, let me die somewhere there's a light."
Time stretched as he endured the pain while crawling. Scrappy was slowly losing blood from his forearm pierced with his bone, yet... he was still thankful for his legs being burned from the mucus, cauterizing it.
"It was a good thing my stomach was full before falling here... giving me strength towards my chosen grave."
Time passed... Scrappy was now in front of a giant tube glowing unnaturally.
His broken yet smiling face mirrored on the tube, as his bleeding hands touched the light he yearned to reach...
"Is this another kind of Metabeast?"
Inside the tube were sands, glowing yellow and red, rotating and forming into something jiggly... that Scrappy with his shallow mind couldn't comprehend.
Smirking, Scrappy supported himself with his forearm, placing it flat on the platform in front of the glowing tube.
Then it glowed brighter, unknown to him that his simple act pressed some button he didn't know existed.
Out of nowhere, a voice spoke... mechanically... in words he couldn't understand.
The clean, sharp sounds of the Old World had been lost long ago, replaced by the guttural, barbaric tongue of the Outlands.
Smiling, he imitated the words...
The words he didn't know would change his life.
The glowing tube imploded, releasing the liquid where the sands swam.
Scrappy watched the floating sand, smiling as another foolish act of his freed the unknown Metabeast.
Then...
It streamed towards his smiling mouth and nose... entering his body and joining his blood flow as solid particles forced themselves to move along it, towards his heart, to his brain... and his remaining broken body.
Scrappy writhed but couldn't scream, as some of the sands blocked his throat... even a cough couldn't help, as he was being choked by it.
His eyes teared from pain, as he searched for the light he yearned to die for.
Then...
As his last consciousness fought the upcoming end, the darkness behind his eyes was suddenly replaced with a blinding white light.
A hundred faces of people wearing white gowns were running back and forth, as the ceiling continued to dust every time a loud explosion outside quaked the establishment.
Scrappy watched everything unfold from behind the glass... floating in it, filled with an unknown liquid.
He scanned around and tried to hit the glass with his fist, however... he couldn't see his own body... yet he knew he was alive, thinking.
He watched the Humans... like him, carrying stacks of papers... holding small guns that looked cute compared to the Mutants. As if all of them had their purpose...
Yet, the look in their eyes didn't change... a sight of despair he had gotten used to...
They moved systematically... some were sitting in front of glowing boxes, tapping the strange rectangular objects full of keys.
Then...
Another man, with white hair, full of wrinkles and baggy eyes, looked at Scrappy.
He spoke, yet no matter how hard he tried, Scrappy couldn't understand what he was saying.
"The Hope of Humanity lies in you..."
Then...
Blackout!
Followed by the screaming sound of sirens and another loud explosion that sounded like it penetrated inside.
As the yellow light returned, illuminating the sides and corners of the wall and ceiling,
Scrappy now saw the dust falling off once again, followed by the hard ceiling falling towards the running Humans, painting the once white room with blood.
Yet, the Old man was still busy with the glowing box, frantically smashing the rectangular object.
Then, as his final, punctuating press echoed in the now crimson room,
He looked one last time at Scrappy, smiling before another broken ceiling fell on his head.
Time passed quietly... Scrappy observed everything grow old, as the remaining yellow side-lights died out.
Then, his own tube glowed, the unknown neon green substance turning blue, keeping him alive... in the long passage of time.
The vision fast-forwarded and he saw himself... his own pathetic, crawling image... approaching the very tube he had been trapped in since the time Humans were considered normal.
And he asked himself...
Did he regret finding his own food? No...
Did he regret using the unknown pit as his own escape? No...
Did he regret crawling towards the light where his ideal rest was placed? No...
In the end, Scrappy didn't regret anything.
For living, despite it being hard, was the only thing he knew... and his only goal.
A simple goal, for a simple mind who wanted to live a simple life.
[Synchronization Complete]