Glitch snapped out of it. He sat up and looked around. He was in…his room? Otto, Dr. Lite, and Flara were quietly talking in the corner of the room. How long was he out?

Otto looked at Glitch’s direction and he cleared his throat, signaling to the others he was awake. Dr. Lite and Flara look back at him. All three of them were worried.

“You better start explaining, dammit.” Said Otto roughly. They all knew something was up. “S-Seriously guys. It’s fine. I’m fine.” Glitch said, getting up. Dr. Lite blocked his path. “Glitch. We’re worried about you. If something is indeed wrong with you, we need to know.”

“I-It’s just nightmares. Nothing else.” Glitch answered, tilting his head away, not looking at them. “Nightmares that make you pass out outta nowhere? Bullshit.” Said Otto roughly. “Maybe you should just sit tight here for a while. Maybe you simply overworked yourself. You might need the rest.” Answered Flara, his voice soft and caring.

“Rest…? W-While someone’s missing out there...? I-I can’t just sit back a-and not do anything.” Glitch answered, stuttering. “Hm. Well maybe you can work from here. It’s what I do.” Said Dr. Lite, trying to make a compromise. “Anyways, we’re heading to Rack & Reel Studios. That’s 8-Ball’s place of operations. We’re going there to interrogate him for information.”

“A-Are you not staying…?” Glitch asked, slightly looking up at him. “I’m afraid not. If you’re here, then someone else needs to be able to back up these two knuckleheads. Don’t worry, I can handle myself just fine.“

“W-Well…o-okay…” answered Glitch. “Hey Green-Screen. I’ll-uhh…try to uhh-bring back a souvenir, okay…?” Said Otto, surprisingly trying to lift his spirits. “Just don’t steal anything.” Said Glitch, trying to make a joke. “Heh. Can’t make any promises.” Answered Otto. The three left his room and made their way to the elevator, talking about the mission and the interrogation and how it’ll go.

Glitch was alone. He spent the next few minutes looking around, exploring the base. The silence was deafening. Glitch laid back in a swivel chair in the main room and sighed. He kicked his feet up on the long meeting table.

“Still keeping your cards close to your chest, huh…?”

Glitch sat up quickly, nearly stumbling and falling over. He stood up quickly and there he was. Bug. He was on the other side of the table, walking around it, his hand sliding on the table with him. But it…strangely didn’t make a sound. None of Bug’s movements actually made a sound.

Bug stopped moving until he was directly across from him. He tilted his head and looked at Glitch. Bug’s neck suddenly extended until Bug’s screen was mere inches from Glitch’s. Bug tilted his head, his head slightly bobbing from the sudden movement from earlier. “What’s the matter…? Abandoned…?” Bug asked.

“I-I wasn’t abandoned. They said I needed rest because-“

“Because they don’t think you’re good enough.”

“Th-That’s not tru-“

“Don’t deny it. Once you’ve shown your worth, that’s when they judge. They think you’re weak. Useless.”

“N-No they don’t…th-they see me as a member-“

“Of the team…?” Bug chuckles, it carrying a robotic, metallic edge. “Oh please. Look at you. You could barely hold your own against a sunflower. You needed help. You always needed help.”

There was a small pause of silence. Glitch thought about it. Bug was right…wasn’t he…?

“But! Help is once again finding its way back to you, my friend!”

“What do you mean…?” Glitch asked.

“With my help, we can prove them wrong. Show them that we aren’t weak. Aren’t useless. Someone they can’t just push around…nor ignore.”

There was a short pause.

“You just need to let me take control.”

“T-Take control…? W-What do you mean…?” Glitch asked, cautious.

Bug chuckled.

“Well, I can’t do anything like this. I need a vessel. A host. And you, my friend, fit the bill.”

Glitch contemplated. Take control of his body? Was this really a good idea? Is that even possible?

“Think of it…like a favor between friends. I show them you’re not a weakling, and I…get to be in your body for a while. It’s a win-win situation!”

“Just…

Let…

Me…

In.”

The walls were a soft beige, the carpet floor a shade of maroon. On the walls were posters for multiple shows and movies created by Rack & Reel Studios. The trio made their way to the office of the CEO “8-Ball”. In front of them were brown wooden double doors where the office awaited them.

The trio open the doors.

Inside awaited 8-Ball himself. He had a wooden desk that was a dark brown, having decorations and such on it, as well as a black swivel chair. 8-Ball was standing up, his back turned to them, facing the window that made up the wall behind the desk.

“8-Ball.” Said Dr. Lite. 8-Ball turned around, facing the trio.

“Well what do I owe the pleasure…?” Asked 8-Ball. “We’re here to bring you in, dipshit. We know you have Benedict.” Answered Otto. “Where is he?” He asks.

“Well may you turn your attention to the TV.” 8-Ball grabs a remote and motioned his hand to the large flatscreen TV hung on the ceiling on the wall to their right. The screen turned on, revealing Benedict tied up. He was on a rooftop, being dragged by a couple of men to the edge. “If you arrest me or even lay one finger on me, I’ll signal my boys to drop him off our rooftop and plummet to the ground.”

“Y-You wouldn’t! He’s your business partner!” Said Flara, seeing the situation escalate. “My business partner…? That projector has been a pain in my side for years. He always lacked vision. Failed to see my vision.” Explained 8-Ball.

“And why exactly is that vision…?” Asked Dr. Lite. 8-Ball chuckles.

“Simple. Power.”

“I assume this has something to do with the distribution of supplies to some of the most feared crime bosses in the city…? I’ve seen the company transactions.” Replied Dr. Lite.

“Ah, someone’s done their research. But, yes. Thanks to that I’ve gained more power. More recognition.”

“That’ll start gang wars! Thousands of innocent lives could be lost, you maniac!” Yelled Otto in a mix between anger and disbelief.

“Sure some might be caught in the crossfire, but eventually they’ll all kill each other. And that’ll leave me on top.”

“You’re sick.” Said Flara, his voice quieter with both fear and hate.

“Why are you saying all of this…?” Asks Dr. Lite.

“Oh, to buy security some time to arrive. I’m afraid I can’t let you leave here alive.”

Multiple running footsteps could be heard rushing to the door, but it all of a sudden stops. Gunfire rings out outside. A scream or two muffled by the double doors. “What on earth is going on out there…?” Asked 8-Ball to himself. This wasn’t going to plan.

It went dead silent outside.

The doors open, revealing a bloodied Glitch, but it wasn’t his blood. His head tilts up slightly, looking at 8-Ball. A single glowing lime-green circle for an eye. It wasn’t Glitch.

“Salutations…”

Before anyone could react or even figure out what was going on, he dashes at 8-Ball in an instant. 8-Ball grabs the gun under his table. He didn’t even get the chance to aim it. He grabs 8-Ball’s wrist and twists it, forcing him to let go. 8-Ball lets out a pained yelp. He gripped the sphere-shaped 8-Ball head and smashes it against the large window, creating a large crack.

“Call it off.”

“E-Excuse me…?” 8-Ball manages to muster out weakly.

He smashes his head against the window again, shattering it. He slams 8-Ball’s head down onto the edge of the floor where a long dropped awaited.

“Call. It. Off. Or I see how breakable that head is...” His arm extending to the desk, grabbing a walkie-talkie. He extends his arm down to the side of 8-Ball’s head, pressing the button to turn it on.

“U-Untie him and let him go…” 8-Ball manages to muster out weakly. The trio looks at the screen. The small group of men untying Benedict and leaving him on the rooftop.

“I did what you asked…They won’t lay a finger on him…”

“Perfect…” He let go of his head and stepped back. 8-Ball struggled to stand but manages. He looks back and notices a cane beside his desk. The cane had a black shaft, a white collar and ferrule, and the handle was a black ball that was designed to look like a 8-Ball. He had an idea.

He walked over to it and grabbed it, gripping it tighter when looking back at 8-Ball. “I really wonder how breakable that head is…”

8-Ball went stiff with fear. “W-Wait! I-I did what you asked! I-“

His pleads are cut short with a wack to the head from the cane, knocking him back. He was on the verge of falling backward out of the shattered window, but he wasn’t going to let that happened. He extended his arm and grabbed 8-Ball by the collar, slamming him forward onto the floor.

“Agh! Please-“

He battered his head with the cane again and again. His head was cracked open like an egg, a black liquid bleeding out from the shattered remains of what was left. He dropped the cane and tilted his backward to the trio. They were all frozen in fear.

“Hello, friends…”

He was so happy to finally meet them.