The Adventures of the "Four Muskytears"

🪶 Dimensions and Divinity [4/7] 🪶

Scanning the ruins of the floor, I noticed a lump of shattered glass and metal at the corner of the parking lot, some sparks still flying.

My jaw dropped as everything suddenly started to come together.

69 and Polar had went out looking for survivors, and then they got attacked.

This random deer-thing-whatever comes in and chases them into the building, forcing them to fight until they got pushed out onto the highest floor.

69 tried to fight, but got pulverized, and now Polar's here trying to fend for herself.

If only I had popcorn.

"Jester!" Polar finally noticed me, calling out from where she stood. "What in the world is this thing and HOW DO I GET RID OF IT-!"

I watched as the buck abruptly charged at her, nearly driving the cub over the edge.

Luckily, she rolled out of the way before she fell seven stories down.

"It's a deer, just... Claw at it!" I shouted back, watching the two circle each other. "You can do it, I guess!"

"I can't fight the thing!" Polar squeaked, unsheathing her claws. "It's contaminated with the pathogen, and if I touch it, I'll get it too!"

Peering closer, I noticed the reddish, bulging sores along the buck's flanks, some of them leaking with pus.

Its crazed eyes were bloodshot, yellowish tears dripping down to its mouth, which was foaming at the edges.

I recoiled at the sight, turning away to reduce my unease.

I don't know why I felt so sensitive about the gore, normally I would be unbothered by it.

Yet... Something about this place made me feel sick to my stomach.

Thud.

Scraaaaape.

I whirled back around, startled to find the beast's sharp antlers pierced into the concrete of the side of the parking lot, right next to the pile of debris that made up 69's robotic form.

Polar growled at it, watching as the infected deer frantically tried to pull away, stomping its hooves on the ground and yelping like a dog.

The cub turned toward 69's remains, flicking one ear and smoothing down her flanks.

Behind her sharp, piercing gaze, I knew there were tears welling up in her eyes.

Focusing in on Polar's tiny form, I watched as she padded toward 69's shattered visor, pawing at the glass shards and rubbing her snout against the side of his head.

It was almost as if she were trying to wake him up.

Casting a brief glance over at the plague-ridden buck, I levitated over to it, reaching out one hand and promptly pulverizing the thing out of existence.

Some call it telekinesis, I call it mwajik.

"Friend?" Polar squeaked, clearly addressing 69. "Friend, you can stop playing dead now, it's gone. I said, it's gone now..."

Shaking my head, I stared down at her. "That's not going to work, Lexi."

She sighed quietly, a fine mist coming out of her tiny maw. "I know."

I noticed a tear roll down her snout; The cub was genuinely torn apart with 69's loss.

"We can fix him," I bluntly replied, trying not to show any emotion so I wouldn't trigger any more feelings. "Stick can help with it."

Polar sniffled, lifting up one paw and rubbing her eye. "We can fix him?"

"Of course we can," Stick came from beside me, except he was on the ground. "C'mon, I'll go fix him up at the pickup. Just bring what you can and I'll repair him."

A few minutes later, we had most of 69's parts together, shoving the majority of them into Stick's endless void of a shoulder bag.

Stick and I levitated back to the hospital parking lot where the pickup truck was, leaving Polar to follow us back simply by scent.

She insisted on doing so to "train her senses".

Once we arrived, we sat down by the truck and splayed out all of 69's pieces like a jigsaw puzzle whose pieces seemed to never fit.

If only we had the manual to remake him.