Tommy checked over his shoulder one more time. The sidewalk was busy that day, typical for a weekend. It did well to keep him under the radar, but anyone tailing him would have the same luck. There was no reason for him to be as paranoid as he was, because who could predict where he would go? Still, the last thing he needed was an unwanted guest disrupting him.
The bell on the door jingled as he entered. Immediately, the road noise was replaced with the smell of coffee. It was soft on his senses, and Tommy relaxed without meaning to. There weren't many people there on that particular day. The atmosphere seeped into his veins the same way it had all those weeks ago.
Tommy paid special attention to the faces of the individuals scattered around, but he had no luck. There was a bored-looking woman behind the counter as he approached. She barely took her eyes off her phone to ask him his order. Tommy cleared his throat, feeling a lot more awkward now that he was there, "Actually, I was wondering if you'd seen someone?"
"Duh," the woman snorted. She popped a piece of bubblegum, smacking her lips. "Seeing people is my job, unfortunately."
"Oh," Tommy stammered, not expecting the apathy in her tone. "Well, the guy I'm looking for is close to my height? He has blonde hair, I'm pretty sure? He really likes the color purple?"
The cashier narrowed her eyes. "You got a name, kid?"
There was a sudden intensity to her. Her mouth set into a cold line and her stare seemed to see right through him. He blinked, unsure of himself. Had he misread the situation? Was he in the wrong place? Did he just look like some random stalker?
"Uh, my name is Tommy," he choked out. He fidgeted with the edge of his hoodie, the fresh scent of the wash still clinging to it from that morning. She raised her eyebrows in surprise and dropped her menacing aura. The woman pushed away from the counter and turned to face a closed door.
"Purpled," she shouted, making Tommy jump out of his skin. The other patrons of the shop turned to stare. "He's here!"
The door opened and Tommy's jaw dropped.
Purpled walked up to the register, switching with the woman. They wore matching barista aprons, which clashed horribly with Purpled's brightly colored hoodie. Other than that, he looked good. His hair was long enough to be pulled back into a ponytail, revealing a pair of black earrings. There was a slouch to his shoulders, a laze to his eyes, and an overall calm to his posture.
Still, Tommy watched as the other boy scanned him for traces of danger, even checking over his shoulder. Once he was certain the villain hadn't been followed, a slow grin spread over his cheeks. Purpled spoke, crisp and clear, "I knew you'd find me."
"Hey, man," Tommy whispered, recovering gradually. He straightened in a valiant attempt to appear less frazzled than he was. "Do you work here?"
"No, actually." Purpled raised an eyebrow and gestured down at himself dramatically. "I wear their memorabilia for fun."
They fell into a loaded silence, neither of them seeming to know what to say next. Purpled moved first, grabbing a cup and beginning to prepare a drink. The whirring of the machine and the gentle hum of overheard conversations were the only sounds.
The villain watched the way Purpled moved. He was confident in the placement of his hands, and didn't stutter to locate anything. He looked like a genuine barista, and not someone trying to stay under the radar.
Tommy jumped when a drink was set in front of him.
"What's this," he asked. Purpled rolled his eyes, picked up a marker, and wrote Tommy's name on the cup. "It's mine?"
Purpled stepped away to prepare a second cup. "Do you know anyone else with your name in the shop?"
Tommy grumbled under his breath, but lifted the cup to his mouth nevertheless. He took one sip and nearly dropped it.
Somehow, some way, Purpled had exactly replicated his standard coffee order.
How was that possible? Weeks had gone by since they'd visited the shop together, and a drink order was such a trivial piece of information to hold onto. It wasn't necessarily complex, but there wasn't a single detail out of place. Purpled had used the same milk, the same amount of sugar, and had even added slightly more cinnamon, because Tommy had made a brief comment about doubling up the next time he was in.
Sure enough, with his second sip, there wasn't a doubt in his mind. He glanced up at Purpled, who was pouring a foul amount of French vanilla into his drink. His disgust at the action was overshadowed by the way his heart warmed at the gesture in his hands. He cleared his throat, "You remembered my order."
Purpled froze, back towards Tommy.
"Uh," the ex-hero murmured. "Yeah."
He turned, drink in hand and expression sour. Tommy panicked inwardly. He wasn't entirely certain of what he'd done to cause the mood to dampen, but he needed to fix it.
He was about to apologize when Purpled blurted, "We did a lot of memory exercises at the agency."
Tommy stopped.
"Especially the people who worked closely with that item," he finished. "So, it wasn't hard to remember."
Tommy felt Ace's key hanging from around his neck, and knew instantly Purpled's vague comment was in reference to it. Tommy exhaled, "I see."
Purpled put a lid on his drink and stepped out from behind the counter, still somber. The two of them approached an isolated booth seat, away from the other patrons. It was past the time for any sort of rush, so the ex-hero was clearly not worrying about customers walking in. Tommy wrinkled his nose as Purpled sipped from his abhorrently sweet drink.
"I was worried about you," Purpled said without warning. Tommy frowned, tilting his head. "I saw the news."
Oh.
He had been wondering about that.
There was something satisfying in hearing that Purpled had been watching from afar. It felt like proof that their friendship wasn't completely shattered. Tommy couldn't help the way his mouth twitched upwards, even when Purpled hung his head, gripping his cup like it wasn't steaming hot.
"I can't help but blame myself," Purpled admitted. "Ace wouldn't have targeted you if I hadn't tried to become your friend. I thought you were seriously injured."
"You were that hung up on it?" Tommy huffed. He leaned back in his seat, puffing his chest to seem bigger. "You don't need to be concerned! I'm really strong, so there's no way I would actually let Ace get a leg up on me."
Tommy tried not to think about how powerless he had felt in front of Ace in the basement of the hero agency. He could still remember, clear as day, how his legs shook and his body screamed. It was a mercy that he couldn't recall much from there to the villain hospital, because he was certain that time was paved with pain.
"Hah," Purpled scoffed half-heartedly. "That's probably true. Dude is a mess right now, so he's a shell of himself."
"Shell or not," Tommy went on. "I took Speedrunner in a fight the other day, so I think I could take him."
Purpled's eyes softened, and Tommy hesitated. For some reason, he got the feeling he was incorrect about something. "Speedrunner and Ace shouldn't be compared," the ex-hero stated. "No hero can be perfectly moral, but there is a fine line between those too."
Tommy frowned.
"Fights with Speedrunner will always end with either a win or a loss," Purpled elaborated. He grew distant. "But Ace will go as far as necessary to secure a victory. Mental or physical, he will take something from you, and you will never get it back."
Tommy fidgeted with his hoodie, well aware of Ace's past tendencies. The scars that decorated the cruel hero's face came to mind, like incriminating pieces of evidence.
He wanted to argue, to say that he hadn't lost a thing. Then, Tommy imagined stepping foot back in the hero agency. His skin itched, and the back of his neck prickled. It hadn't been long since his release from the hospital, and still he could find remnants. The after-effects lasted longer than the last few times he had experienced his gift rejecting a mental power – and he was certain that was what it was based upon those previous experiences.
Tommy wanted to ask what Ace had taken from Purpled. What had he stolen that made him so stoic, so careful? Years of his life? Sentiments he held dear? What had Purpled seen, and lived through? If he was Tommy's age, why did he feel so much older?
Purpled pulled back, eyes widening. He seemed to notice that he had strayed away from simple small-talk, and that he was approaching territory that Tommy wasn't used to. He rolled his shoulders, loosening up and letting an easy smile spill over his expression. Tommy flinched at how natural it was for Purpled to hide.
"Enough of that," Purpled said. "So, tell me what happened. What did that bastard Ace do to you? Your boss looked really mad in the pictures I've seen."
While it wasn't a horrible deviation from the topic, Tommy had to commend him on how the conversation had been shifted. These were questions he could answer. "Directed me oh-so kindly to the secret basement of the agency and offered me a job."
"That asshole," Purpled gasped, leaning closer, eyes twinkling. To outsiders, it probably looked like they were gossiping. Tommy smiled slightly. "You said no, right?"
"Duh," Tommy clicked his tongue. "Villainy and frozen yogurt pays much better."
"Heard that one before," Purpled snorted, and then slapped a hand over his mouth. Tommy raised an eyebrow. "Uh, never mind."
"What?" Tommy crossed his arms over his chest, musing, "You know a lot of froyo cashiers with a hobby of striking fear?"
"No," Purpled replied too fast, and it sounded like a lie. Tommy hesitated. "Listen, it's nothing. A slip of the tongue, honestly."
"Uh-huh," was what Tommy managed to get out. He decided not to dwell, since Purpled was visibly unwilling to carry on. "Anyway, I told Ace I didn't want to be his waterboy, he got offended, and I woke up in the hospital."
"That feels... oversimplified," Purpled mumbled, though he seemed grateful to be off the hook. "But it definitely sounds like him."
Tommy shrugged and took a long sip of his drink. A bell chimed by the doorway, and Purpled stood. A customer entered and approached the counter. Tommy watched his companion work, entranced by how easily he navigated himself. There was a sparkle in his eye that hadn't existed previously, and Tommy couldn't help but laugh that such a simple job brought it out of him.
The man at the counter wasn't anyone to write home about; Average height, slim build, in his twenties, completely normal. Tommy saw Purpled hand him his drink, and the barista's customer service smile hesitated. Briefly, the ex-hero locked eyes with him from across the store. Then, the man was sliding over a handful of cash and turning to leave.
He paused when he noticed Tommy's stare on him. The edges of his mouth curled upwards into a wide grin, and he walked out. Purpled returned to the table, frowning at the money in his hands. Tommy cleared his throat, "Aren't you supposed to put that in the register?"
"I think so," Purpled mumbled, dazed. "But it feels wrong somehow."
"Wrong," Tommy echoed.
"Yeah, uh," the other stammered. He extended his hand. "Just– try holding them."
Tommy pursed his lips and did as he was told. A jolt of electricity shocked him as soon as he touched the bills, but it was over too quickly to be anything more than static. After that, he tried to find what Purpled had been worried over. There was nothing.
"It's just money, man," Tommy assured. "You're on edge because of our conversation."
"What?" Purpled hurriedly took back the cash, weighing it against his palm. His mouth fell open. "It's gone. Whatever I sensed has completely disappeared."
"Are you feeling alright," the villain asked. "You look pale."
"Yeah," Purpled said, but it was small, as if he didn't believe himself. "I think you're right. I'm jumpy because we're in public. Do you want to move elsewhere, so we can get into the real reason you came to find me?"
Tommy agreed, and Purpled moved to finally put the money in the register. He picked up his drink, which was down to its last few sips, and realized his fingers were a little sticky. He cringed, assuming he had accidentally touched gum beneath the table at some point. Tommy excused himself to the bathroom, and by the time he had reentered the main area, Purpled was waiting for him.
His coworker had taken her spot behind the register again, not even sparing the two a glance as they abandoned her to drown in the shop's sleepy atmosphere. Safely outside, Tommy voiced a thought, "I never expected you to work minimum wage."
"I had quite a bit saved up from my last job, so this is more of a way to pass the time," Purpled drawled. "I like it a lot so far."
"Your coworker does not feel the same way," Tommy whistled. Purpled tossed him a lazy smile.
"Yeah, she hates it here," he confirmed. "Isn't that so cool?"
Tommy's expression fell slightly. Purpled continued weaving his way throughout the crowded sidewalk, as if what he said wasn't the slap in the face that it definitely had been to the other. What was this motherfucker's life like at the agency if this was how he reacted to the real world?
"So," Purpled started, humming along to the rhythm of his steps. "What do you need from me on this fine afternoon, villain?"
Tommy flinched, shrinking in on himself unconsciously. "Please don't call me that in public."
"Relax," Purpled huffed. "No bystander would believe you're Hyperion. You're too flimsy."
All pity or empathy he might've held for the ex-hero's situation disappeared instantly. He dropped his head and sighed loudly, "Very funny."
"It's true! You're malnourished, frankly," Purpled spoke with a teasing edge to his voice, and Tommy shoved him, laughing. It reminded him of a conversation he might have with Ranboo or Tubbo; easy, flowing, and entertaining. Either the ex-hero had a perfect read on him, or they genuinely fit together well. Probably a bit of both.
"I get it," Tommy groaned, biting back his grin. "You're hilarious, and I'm like a deer in headlights."
"Exactly," Purpled chirped. He sped up his pace, and Tommy had to grab onto the fabric of his sleeve to stay behind him. "You never answered my question about why you sought me out."
"Aside from wanting to deepen our friendship," Tommy interjected. "I need to learn more about the key."
Purpled threw a bark of laughter over his shoulder, "He wants to deepen our friendship!"
"Is something the matter with that," Tommy scoffed. They paused at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change, and he was able to catch the way his companion rolled his eyes. "I'm serious."
"I know," Purpled retorted. "I can tell you're not trying to use me like the last time we hung out, but I probably wouldn't care either way."
He took Tommy's hand and squeezed.
"Right now, you're the only person I can trust. You don't have to deepen anything," he stated. Tommy didn't have time to dwell on that unfortunate reality. The light changed and the folks around them began to cross the street. "C'mon, we're getting close."
"You don't mind teaching me about the key, do you," Tommy inquired softly. His words were almost swept away by the rumble of passing cars. "I don't want to throw you off. You seem so happy nowadays."
"I have nothing better to do," Purpled sighed. "The boss is forcing me to take more time off. Apparently, working from opening to closing six days a week is bad for my mental health."
The tight smile on his face told Tommy that the hero agency did not feel the same way.
"Where are you taking me," he inquired after a few minutes. The crowds had thinned, and the buildings had gotten shabbier. If anyone else had been leading him, he might've thought he was about to be mugged. He was fairly confident in his ability to take Purpled in a fight, but he hoped it didn't have to come to that.
"Right here, actually." Purpled cut sharply to the side and swerved through a dark alleyway. Tommy struggled to keep up with the fast speed, but he refused to lose sight of the other. Graffiti and dumpsters were all that lined the basic, brick walls.
They stopped beside a boarded up window. Tommy deadpanned. "Well, this is thrilling. Thank you."
"Hold on," Purpled mumbled. He grabbed one of the boards and pulled gently. The entirety of the window swung outwards at once, and Tommy had to jump backwards so as not to be hit. He saw then that there were hinges on some of the wooden slabs. It was a door.
"What the hell," Tommy whispered. Inside the weird door thing, there was an endless, inky black expanse. A minimal amount of light slipped through the cracks of the actual boarded up windows, but it wasn't enough to provide any insight on the location. Purpled didn't give it a second thought, climbing through and waving for Tommy to follow.
Having no better option, he did as he was told.
Beneath his feet, there was a creaking of floorboards. They felt sturdy, even with his weight on them fully, but he wasn't sure if he should trust them. Purpled took hold of his secret window-door again and pulled it shut. They were plunged into total darkness, but it didn't last long.
He heard the sound of a switch flipping, and brilliantly bright lights burned his eyes. Tommy was busy blinking away spots when Purpled set a hand on his shoulder. There was a small squeeze, and then the ex-hero was pushing past him and taking in their surroundings.
After several seconds, Tommy was able to gather himself and look around. While the outside had appeared run-down and abandoned, the inside was anything but. It was a wide open space, like a smaller-scale warehouse from the east side, that was furnished with an obvious purpose.
In one corner, there were mats all along the floor and walls, as well as spare sparring dummies and wooden weapons. Opposite that set up, there was a kitchen. The stainless steel appliances were a bit dusty, but if the whirring of the fridge was anything to go off, they worked. The rest of the area was taken up with couches, rugs, beds, computers, televisions, radios, and piles of easily-kept food.
"Woah," Tommy exhaled. "What is this place?"
Purpled sent a cocky smile in his direction. "An old hero safehouse. There are dozens around the city that the agency created in case some villain apocalypse started."
Tommy froze. "Is it okay to be here?"
It wasn't exactly a surprise to hear the agency had hideouts around town, but wasn't Purpled supposed to be off the grid? Heroes were a paranoid batch of people — Wilbur had told him that. They would assume the worst until they could guarantee the best, which is a motto they flaunted time and time again on late-night talk shows. It made sense, given their profession, that they would want to keep all their bases covered.
Wouldn't this safehouse be one of the bases?
"I mean," Purpled sighed. "I'm never here after dark, because that could arouse suspicion, but I already checked for cameras and everything. It's pretty airtight."
Tommy wasn't sold, and the ex-hero could see that.
"Listen," Purpled reiterated. "It's been abandoned for at least five years at this point. The agency started making them in secret — something about the Captain getting a bad feeling — but they stopped after creating only a handful. I think they lost funding and didn't want anyone to know, so only a couple of people are aware of them."
Tommy started to nod, reassured slightly, but then the details of the story caught up to him. His heart thumped into his throat and he swore he got a little dizzy.
"Did you say five years ago?" Purpled nodded, raising an eyebrow inquisitively. Fuck, that was not the answer he wanted. Tommy swallowed.
The Captain, head of the hero agency and Puffy's estranged brother, had a bad feeling five years prior. What kind of shiver up his spine made him want to start building secret safehouses? What threat did he see coming that no one else picked up on?
Why did it line up with the death of Puffy's son so perfectly?
Tommy's idea of someone mind-controlling the head of the hero agency didn't feel like a strange coincidence anymore. Everything correlated too well, fit too snuggly. Tommy had a lurching in his gut, like he had almost completed a puzzle, but was missing a piece.
He glanced up at Purpled, who looked truly worried about him. Tommy forced himself to straighten. The ex-hero was his friend, but he still had to remain composed. This was something he could discuss with Wilbur, Techno, and Phil. If he was right and this mind-control incident was the result of one mastermind, Purpled had been compromised before. He was off the grid and supposedly safe at the moment, but how long would that last?
Tommy reminded himself not to fully trust the other boy – not when his secrets could be handed off to a faceless third party, though it hurt him to think that way.
"Anyway," Purpled began gingerly, probably figuring it best to move on from whatever had pushed Tommy over the edge. "I only come in here during the days that I have nothing better to do."
The topic was filed away into his list of things to bring up to his mentor. He was fine to switch onto another subject, a separate direction of thinking, anything to get him away from the dread curling up in his stomach. The new information wasn't why he was there anyway. He needed to finally get around to the matter at hand:
"Could you teach me how to use Ace's key," Tommy blurted, although it didn't fit into the conversation that Purpled had been attempting to start. It was why they had come to the safehouse to begin with, so why not skip the small talk. "Please?"
Purpled pursed his lips, but nodded nevertheless. He raised his hands over his head and stretched, as if preparing for something strenuous. Tommy watched him, perplexed. Ace's key was a number of things, but it was not tiring.
Tommy paused and forced himself to rethink the notion. He didn't feel pain or sore muscles the same way the general population did. It was rude of him to assume.
"Alright," Purpled huffed once he'd apparently warmed himself up enough. "What do you know already?"
"Uh," Tommy tripped over himself. "I don't forget things easily anymore, so I'm assuming it's the source of Ace's impressive memory. I do feel like it does more, but I can't figure it out."
Purpled looked apprehensive. "You've been wearing the key long enough to notice changes in your memory?"
"Yes," Tommy confirmed slowly. "Is that bad?"
For a second, it seemed like the ex-hero couldn't answer. Finally, he hung his head, and decided, "Sort of?"
"Sort of?" Tommy didn't think that was a very positive answer. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"I guess our lesson will start with the drawbacks of the key," Purpled murmured. He nodded towards a set of comfortable chairs, and they sat. "The Memory Key or the Knowledge Key, whichever you prefer to call it, has one huge condition for using it."
Despite the stakes, hearing the key's official name for the first time was a point of interest for the young villain. He had gone so long just referring to it as Ace's key that this was a huge relief. He allowed himself a little victory.
"The longer you wear it, the more dependent you become," Purpled said. "The memories you make while using it can become fuzzy or disappear entirely if you take it off."
Tommy tensed.
"Obviously, it gets more serious if you keep it on for longer periods of time," the ex-hero sighed. "For example – Ace has been wearing the key nonstop for years. He's still aware of what's going on, and he can recall bits and pieces, but his entire world is foggy. If he allows himself to be too emotional or stressed, even the little moments that are stable can go away, and he's sent into a panic over his sudden amnesia. At the agency, we call those 'episodes,' and someone usually has to babysit him when they happen."
Tommy cautiously lifted a hand to his necklace, where that very item hung.
Oh shit.
Ace was a terrible human being. He was someone who had hurt Tubbo and felt no remorse. He stole Blink away through vicious means. He deprived Purpled of normal human interactions. Hell, he kidnapped Tommy and got him sent to the hospital.
But...
Ace was actively, at that very second, unaware of the happenings of his life for the past several years. The key wasn't his power as much as it was his lifeforce. He was stumbling around like a fucked up dementia patient. Ace was his worst enemy, without a doubt.
Still, this was harsh.
And it was because of the key.
"Tommy?" Tommy blinked back into reality. He hadn't even realized how pale he'd gotten, but Purpled definitely had. "If this is too much for you, we can do this another day."
"No!" Tommy bit his lip, probably hard enough to draw blood on a normal person. "I need to know more, or my situation could get worse."
It occurred to him that the foggy feeling of forgetting wasn't entirely foreign to him either. There had been brief moments since his debut where he wasn't touching Ace's key, like after the mind controlling incidents. He hadn't focused on it much, but his head definitely had been different. It probably wasn't as intense as it had been for Ace, but it was proof that Purpled wasn't lying.
He had to keep learning.
"Suit yourself," Purpled replied. "I'm assuming you already know how keys work, at least vaguely, so I shouldn't have to get into the details. That will simplify this."
"Wait," Tommy stopped him. His brain struggled to catch up with his mouth as he blurted, "Why are you assuming I know about the keys? Actually, what are the keys? I've never seen a key in my life."
Purpled furrowed his eyebrows and wrinkled his nose. "Do you think I'm dumb?"
Tommy had certainly been hoping for it.
"Whatever," Purpled scoffed. "First of all, the fact that you even thought to take Ace's key was grounds enough to suspect something, but you also work hand-in-hand with the Corporation. Villains that aren't in possession of keys can't become as powerful as that group has."
"Well, that's not very fair to the villains, is it?" Tommy crossed his arms. "Why couldn't a keyless villain stand up to a bunch of poser heroes anyway?"
"Only the keys can fight other keys," Purpled stated.
The young villain's face dropped.
He knew about Ace holding a key, and lightly suspected that there were other heroes in possession of them, but to hear such a bold declaration put several things into perspective. The Corporation was the most powerful group of villains in the city, so Tommy thought that was why the agency sent their best heroes to face them, but there was probably more to it.
A domino effect started happening behind his eyes. Assuming that the powers bestowed to the Corporation could only be matched by other powerful keys, then he could reasonably conclude that the Dream Team also possessed keys. They were popular, and they'd caught hundreds of criminals since debuting, but there were a handful of recurring villains they would fight.
For example, Bubblegum and Hothead.
Tommy recalled the day he'd almost been killed – his feet trapped in Bubblegum's roots and Hothead's flames creeping closer to a car. During that fight, Glitch and Devil had a pretty even match going for them. Bubblegum also had frequent spats with Swirl, whose shapeshifting gift was too impressive to not be a magic item.
Tommy was a bit taken aback by the sheer amount of people he could list off from the domino effect alone, not to mention Firefly and her Blinding Key. The Corporation always avoided the topic when their apprentice asked if they knew anyone else with keys. They must've realized how easily a conclusion could be strung together.
Purpled watched Tommy count out on his hands the amount of people with keys; Icarus, Midnight, Fortress, Firefly, Hothead, Bubblegum, Swirl, Speedrunner, Glitch, Devil, Ace, and then his very own key.
"Twelve?" Purpled whispered, raising an eyebrow, "How'd you get twelve?"
"What?" Tommy glanced between him and his hands. "I just counted."
Purpled sat up straighter. "The agency has only identified eleven. Where did you get the twelfth key?"
The young villain paused. He hadn't considered the fact that Puffy had been hiding Foolish's key from the world for at least five years, which was longer than a lot of popular heroes had been around.
Tommy remembered the mind controller that had been operational for that same amount of time. He decided to be safe, and lowered one of his fingers.
"It was a miscount," he lied. "I'm terrible at math."
Purpled scanned him briefly, but shockingly didn't press. "Whatever. Now that we've got that covered, you agree that you know how the keys work? Secret steps and all that?"
"Right," Tommy confirmed, because that much was obvious at this point.
"Since the Memory Key has several facets to its power, it technically has more than one secret step, but they're all fairly simple and don't apply to the item's overall use," Purpled elaborated. Tommy prepared for a longer lecture. "I'll start off by explaining what the key can do."
He cleared his throat and adjusted his purple hoodie.
"Firstly, the photographic memory," Purpled began. "It allows you to perfectly remember anything that happened to you within the span of a week, though beyond that isn't always perfect. You can bypass the time limit and store memories for later by focusing on remembering a specific moment, so long as it is actively happening around you."
Tommy looked a bit perplexed.
"It's like watching an hour-long television program live, and thirty minutes in, you decide to press the record button," Purpled said, breaking it down for him. "If you go back to it later, the first thirty minutes won't have been recorded, but the remaining half of the hour will be there. The key works in a similar fashion."
"Wait," Tommy interjected. "I've been able to remember the material for tests without being aware of this time limit bypass. Why is that?"
"You don't necessarily have to be conscious of it," the ex-hero hummed. "You were watching the teacher, and your brain told you that you needed to remember what they were saying. It's as simple as that."
"Huh," was all Tommy could say.
"Due to the fact that memories can be stored by the key, that also means that it is a bit like a library," Purpled moved on. "Hence the alternate name, Knowledge Key. You can access memories stored by previous holders of the item."
Tommy's eyes bulged out of his skull. "I can do what?"
"Calm down," the other boy urged. "That part isn't as easy. You have to know someone's true name, and be able to picture them flawlessly within your mind's eye for it to work. Also, you can only summon up one memory every few days, or else you'll become dangerously sick."
"That's crazy," Tommy exclaimed, practically bouncing in place. "Can I try it?"
Purpled looked hesitant, but he nodded. "I've held the key, so you could try to summon one of my memories."
"Okay, yeah," Tommy agreed vehemently. "So, I just picture you and think of your name?"
"Pretty much."
The villain shut his eyes tightly. He stuck his hands in his pockets to limit distraction and fidgeting. Purpled's face was easy to picture, given he was directly in front of him, as was his name. He focused on those two elements, willing his brain not to change any details.
For a moment, there was nothing.
Then, a world sprung up from behind his eyelids.
The creaking hardwood of the safehouse's floor dissolved into a padded arena. The room was huge, with mats along the floor and mirrors coating the wall. He turned to look around and almost shrieked at the sight of a maskless, scarred face staring at him.
"Fix your stance," the hero barked. Although Tommy knew him as Ace, he had a strong instinct to refer to him as Quackity in his head. It was a name that he vaguely remembered hearing in the coffee shop weeks ago. "Hurry up!"
Tommy felt his body moving, getting into a position that was basically muscle memory to him. He wasn't entirely sure why Quackity was bossing him around, or why he looked so pissed about it, but every bone in his body told him to bite his tongue.
"Better," the hero grunted. "Chin up – always meet your opponents' eyes. Strike one."
Tommy felt himself punch the air.
"Strike two."
Again.
"Quackity," a voice interrupted. The older hero looked over, and Tommy followed his gaze. In the doorway of the room, Devil stood with crossed arms and a dumb smile. Unlike Quackity, he was in full costume. "Give him a break. He's exhausted."
"That's the point," Quackity retorted. "It's key training. He has to keep his endurance up or he'll never be able to wield it."
Devil approached lazily and slung an arm over the shoulder of the maskless hero. The latter didn't give much of a reaction, and Tommy assumed it was an action that happened regularly. "He's a kid," Devil drawled. "It's his day off. Let him take it easy."
Quackity rolled his eyes. "There's no such thing as a day off, and you know that."
"He's barely standing," Devil argued, shooting him a pointed, but harmless glare. "Besides, Dream wanted to go over debut strategies with you."
Tommy wasn't sure who this Dream person was, but he didn't feel inclined to ask. It was familiar on his tongue, almost like he said that name every day. His mind moved quickly to fixate on the mention of a debut. He felt his shoulders sag and his heart drop.
"Do you think your kid is ready to debut," Devil asked offhandedly. "He's not exactly the most personable guy."
"Blink will behave," Quackity snarled, suddenly hostile. Tommy's body shrunk back instinctively, knowing in its core to avoid him when he was in that sort of mood. Devil didn't appear particularly taken aback by it. "He's aware of what will happen if he acts out."
"What's going to happen," Tommy said. Except, it wasn't his voice that left him. It was different, quieter. If anything, his words sounded more like something that would come out of Purpled's mouth.
Quackity's eyes shifted to him, one of them slightly glassier than the other. The scar that ran from his eyebrow down to his lip was to blame, but Tommy knew that the older hero was far from blind. His gold tooth flashed in a sneer when he replied, "If Blink steps out of line, I'll make sure his little friend never sees the light of day again."
Oh.
Tommy didn't like that. It made him angry, sad, and worried for Tubbo, but at the same time, he was numb. For some reason, he couldn't feel a thing at the notion. He was detached from his body and mind.
Devil nudged Quackity, and the scarred hero exhaled sharply, "Do two hundred push-ups before I return, and I'll pretend you never asked that question."
Tommy acted effortlessly, dropping to the floor and–
He was launched back into the world of the living. His breaths came quickly, filling his lungs in a starved manner. Tommy took in his surroundings, patting the chair cushions beneath him and forcing every detail of Purpled's concerned expression to register.
This was real. This was reality. There was nothing of that memory surrounding him. He wasn't dreaming anymore. Purpled hummed gently, "You alright, buddy?"
"Uh," Tommy stammered. "What just happened?"
"That was a memory. One of mine, to be exact. It can be kinda jarring because it'll put you into the perspective of whoever created that memory," Purpled said, his quiet tone easing the anxiety the other had unconsciously been bearing. "Do you think you could tell me what you saw?"
"Yeah," Tommy exhaled shakily. "I was in a training room, I think? Ace was there, and Devil too. They were talking about Blink's debut."
Purpled tensed. "Oh."
"What's wrong," Tommy wondered aloud. "Was I not supposed to see that?"
"No, I just," Purpled trailed off. He took a deep breath. "It's just strange. Everyone always imagines their memories are private matters, only for them to see, but this key prevents that."
"Sorry," Tommy apologized.
"No, no," the ex-hero dismissed. "It's not your fault. I gave you permission, but I forgot that it doesn't let you cherry pick what you see."
Tommy shifted uncomfortably in his seat, recovering slowly. He wished he were less thrown-off by the entire ordeal so that he could properly sympathize with his friend. His mind had not been prepared in the slightest for the onslaught it had witnessed, and therefore was reduced to mush upon returning to normalcy.
"Shall we move on," Purpled suggested sheepishly. Tommy managed a nod. "So far, we've covered the better memory and the library. The key is capable of one more minor aspect: persuasion."
"Pardon," Tommy whispered. "There's more?"
"Surely you didn't believe one of the most powerful sets of magic items would have a key that only helped with memory," Purpled said, clutching his chest in feigned disbelief. Tommy didn't admit that he actually had. "But yes, on top of allowing its user to access memories for long periods of time, it also gives you the ability to sway people's opinions."
Tommy's eyes bulged out of his head.
"Whoever you talk to is more likely to agree with what you have to say, and will form positive opinions of you faster," Purpled elaborated. The villain struggled to imagine that.
Ace had this kind of power at his disposal? No wonder the guy could commit heinous crimes and run free. Although, if the second part of what Purpled explained had any merit to it, then how awful of a person was Ace to still be dislikeable even with such a gift?
"That's so cool," Tommy blurted. "How do I use it?"
An apprehensive expression flashed briefly over Purpled's face, as if he was holding back on something. Tommy leaned forward a bit, attempting to see through him. He felt badly that their conversations today had almost all resulted in Purpled recalling something unpleasant. He was supposed to be getting away from the shitty situations, and Tommy was bringing them to his doorstep.
"The first time we met up in the cafe, I thought it was your natural charm that made me believe you were trustworthy." The ex-hero scratched the back of his neck and sighed, "That's why I was so embarrassed when I found out you had Ace's key on you. I spilled classified information to a stranger, and I would've never done that without the persuasion power."
Tommy's heart leapt into his throat. The scene replayed in his mind; Purpled's tears, his betrayal, and his horror upon learning that the villain knew nothing of the gift he possessed. It made sense now. He couldn't imagine an event like that happening to him, but he tried to picture it all the same. He wanted to fully understand Purpled's pain.
He imagined making a friend, finding someone he finally wanted to talk to, an individual he thought could handle knowing about his insecurities, his past traumas, and his ongoing fight to stay ahead of it. The first person who came to mind was Wilbur, though they'd known each other far longer than Purpled knew Tommy. The villain set up a scenario in his head, one where he trusted Wilbur fully, but Wilbur hadn't meant for it at all.
Tommy shivered, and felt his throat close. He whispered, "I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault," Purpled hummed. "I've already forgiven you."
Tommy thought that was unfair. He barely had a grasp on the mental dilemma that Purpled had been grappling with for weeks. There should've been outrage provoked in that time — rage, denial, and an eventual conclusion should've happened naturally. It wasn't meant to be a one-sided fight where only one of them knew the scale.
Purpled put a hand on his shoulder. "Seriously, Tommy."
"Damn," Tommy laughed half-heartedly. "I would've kicked my ass if I were you. You've gotta be a saint, man."
The atmosphere lightened as Purpled let out a loud snort, "I am absolutely not a saint. If I thought you could take me, we'd be mortal enemies by now!"
"You think I can't handle you?" Tommy gasped, offended, "I'll beat you in no time flat, springy bitch."
"Oh yeah," Purpled taunted. "You're awfully cocky for someone currently boasting a better memory as your ability."
Tommy grinned, feeling the jingle of two keys around his neck. "We'll see about that."
Purpled raised an eyebrow and jumped to his feet, bouncing a bit higher into the air than normal individuals likely did when they were standing up. He gestured towards the mats in the corner of the room, and Tommy was quick to follow him.
It was exceedingly apparent that the safehouse belonged to the hero agency when he stepped into the training section. The mats beneath his feet weren't soft enough to sleep on, but they would cushion his falls without throwing off his movement. The hard floors of the warehouse he usually practiced in definitely did not have that luxury, so he wasn't going to take these for granted.
In the corner, there were wooden weapons of varying types; swords, staffs, spears, almost anything that could be used. Tommy considered taking one, but Purpled wasn't moving for them. He decided against it, watching curiously as the ex-hero stretched. Tommy copied him subtly.
Purpled crouched to the floor, Tommy following his movement, and then jumped into the air, touched the ceiling, did a single back flip, and landed perfectly upright – which Tommy could not do.
He was rethinking the decision to spar suddenly.
Purpled had been a hero for far longer than Tommy had been a villain, and it was evident in how he held himself. Tommy was confident in his mentors' teachings, but he was beginning to doubt his more magical capabilities. As his opponent had said, the memory key would be useless here, and his other power had only activated as a fluke once before.
"You gonna keep staring off into space or are we gonna do this," Purpled called. While Tommy had zoned out, the ex-hero had removed his hoodie and tied it around his waist, revealing a plain white t-shirt underneath. The less-experienced boy blanched.
Oh no.
Purpled was ripped.
He was so fucked. Purpled was as fit as Tubbo, if not more, and that was not a comparison Tommy made lightly. His roommate wasn't someone to be crossed for any reason. Why did a hero that valued agility in battle have to look like he could bench Tommy's bodyweight?
"Something wrong," Purpled snickered. "Don't back out on me yet. I have a disadvantage, don't I?"
"What do you mean by that," Tommy stammered, nervously swinging his arms back and forth.
"I watched your debut," Purpled stated. "But I can say with sincerity that I have no idea what your birth power is. You know all about me, though."
"Oh," Tommy exhaled. His birth power was the last thing Purpled should be fretting over. It would take a handful of hits for him to figure it out. "Right."
He would just have to win before that could happen.
The two squared up – Tommy in a fighting stance and Purpled in an intimidating crouch.
"Ready," Tommy asked, ignoring the way his hands shook in anticipation. "Go!"
He charged first, aiming immediately to try and knock Purpled off balance. The ex-hero let out a gasp of surprise, clearly not expecting his friend to be as fast as he was. However, before Tommy could touch him, he jumped. With the raised ceilings, he traveled several feet into the air unobstructed. Tommy didn't have a chance to block the kick that hit him square in the back.
It knocked the breath from his lungs and sent him stumbling forward. Tommy whirled around, but Purpled was above him already. This time, he managed to grab the ex-hero's shoe. He pushed against the force as hard as he could, succeeding in throwing Purpled to the side. The other boy caught himself quickly, smiling.
"You're not half bad," Purpled laughed. There was an elation to his expression, like this was one big game. Tommy wanted to slap it off him. He wouldn't let the irritation get to him, though. Witnessing enough of Icarus' matches had given him immunity. He channeled Hyperion, and hardened his heart.
Purpled propelled forward at an incredible speed. It was the kind of strike that was likely to end a battle before it had begun. Thankfully, once the ex-hero had left the ground with such ferocity, it was nearly impossible for him to switch directions until he landed again. Tommy had millions of televised fights to dedicate that piece of knowledge to, as it was impossible for a huge hero fan to go for long without picking it up.
Tommy dodged to the left and struck Purpled in the side as he passed. The hero grunted, pushed off the ground, and repeated his attack. Tommy rolled underneath him, defenses raised as if he were fighting Speedrunner. "Come on," he teased. "I know you're rusty, but I'm not that hard to catch."
Purpled crooned, "You're much more interesting like this."
Tommy smiled at the compliment, and barely avoided a punch to the nose. Purpled was upon him instantly, and the villain's hand-to-hand practices came into use. He attempted to backpedal to regain his bearings, but his opponent refused to let him. Blow-by-blow, Tommy felt his stamina being eaten away. They came in quick succession, aimed for the stomach, the face, the ribs, and none of them were gentle.
He was glad for his pain tolerance once he began to fail a couple of his dodges. The first punch hit him in the gut, and if he hadn't faced worse before, it would've been enough to cripple him. Tommy wondered briefly if Ace, Blink, or Speedrunner had informed their former-teammate of how much Hyperion could tank.
The next hit was his cheek, and he could make a solid guess that someone had told him that he might need to put more force into his swings, but Purpled was obviously unsure of how much that was. By the third, Tommy grabbed his opponent's wrist and twisted him around. It was impossible to hold Purpled for long, but his grip should've been enough to make the other's arm sore.
Purpled got away by springing up and bringing Tommy along with him. This jump in particular had a significantly larger intention to it, and the villain realized too late that they were going to hit the ceiling. It was simple metal, but there was no doubt that the impact would leave his head spinning.
He attempted to let go, content with falling back onto the mats below, but Purpled was quicker. The jump had put them into a territory that the hero found familiar, given his birth power. He was able to maneuver himself and Tommy to slam into the roof in a specific way that would let Purpled push off it with one foot, while simultaneously forcing his opponent into it harder.
Tommy could do nothing but take it as the metal crashed against the back of his skull and he saw stars.
Almost as quickly as they had ascended, the sensation of freefall began. Purpled landed upright, whereas Tommy's face squished against the cushion awkwardly. He groaned loudly, reaching a hand up to the back of his head. It took four blinks for him to regain his vision completely. If he were a normal person, he would have a concussion six times over.
With the blur cleared, he noticed Purpled jumping again, a wicked grin on his face and a kick aimed directly for his gut. He would be out for the count if that connected.
Using his fading strength, he rolled out of the way and flipped to his feet. The mat released a huff of exhaustion as Purpled crashed into it. Tommy knew he didn't have it in him to go against another high-speed attack, but that was not a complaint his opponent cared to hear. The ex-hero was back in the air immediately.
Tommy inhaled, knowing he only had one option left.
He squeezed his eyes shut, jumped off the ground, and thought small.
The hair-raising feeling of shrinking enveloped him, buzzing and tingling against every inch of his body. He opened his eyes once the wind whistling past his ears became more evident. The world was ginormous around him, meaning he had succeeded. He glanced down and noticed the ground roaring up towards him. He pulled his knees to his chest and prepared for impact.
For the millionth time, the breath was stolen from his chest as his back smacked into the mat. He bounced once, twice, and then landed safely. Tommy was reminded of a trampoline by the way the cushion felt underneath his tiny self.
"Tommy? Tommy," Purpled's booming voice rang. The small villain glanced over and noticed his opponent spinning around rapidly. From his spot on the ground, he could see the furrow of the other's brow and the downturn of his mouth. "Where'd you go, Tommy?"
"Down here," Tommy replied. Purpled's eyes traced the sound, but still struggled to land on him. Tommy climbed to his feet and waved his arms, shouting a little louder, "Here!"
Finally, Purpled spotted him. His face lost all color and he dropped to his knees. Tommy lowered his arms and approached him slowly. "Holy shit," the ex-hero gasped. "You're little."
"Nice going, Sherlock Holmes," Tommy scoffed. "You've solved the mystery."
"How the hell did you do that," Purpled asked, not sparing his friend's sarcasm a second glance. "I thought you had somehow teleported like Blink. Is this your birth power?"
Tommy frowned. "What kind of unbelievable prodigy do you think I am?"
"The kind that can become the fourth member of the Corporation," Purpled deadpanned. He reached a hand down and scooped Tommy up, drawing a string of protests and curses from the smaller's mouth. "You're bite-sized."
"I take major offense to that," Tommy declared, arms crossed over his chest. If the ex-hero dared to stick one of his huge fingers anywhere near his face, he was prepared to make bite-sized into a much more literal definition. "You're being a bitch right now. I hope you know that."
"Yeah," Purpled exhaled half-heartedly. He was far more interested in staring at Tommy's little limbs than speaking. The shrunken villain shrieked a bit as he was jostled by Purpled standing up. "If this isn't your birth power, then what is it?"
Tommy hung his head at the situation. At least by dangling over the ground at such a distance, he knew he would be able to fix his stature. He warned Purpled curtly, "One moment."
Purpled didn't have a chance to respond before Tommy was diving off his hand and towards the mat, chanting in his head big, big, big.
His feet touched the ground, and he had returned to his normal height.
"Holy shit," his companion mumbled. "You're fucking insane."
"I'm just cool like that," Tommy explained eloquently. Inwardly, he was freaking out. It was a miracle that he had managed to use the Altered Key on two separate occasions without any major consequences, but he wasn't willing to risk a third. "I believe that's it for our match. Let's call it a draw."
Purpled laughed, "Sure, but I totally had you pinned. If you couldn't shrink, you would be begging for mercy, motherfucker."
"Such harsh language from one of the city's treasured heroes," Tommy retorted. "What would the six o'clock news think of this side of you?"
"Shut up," Purpled groaned, slapping Tommy's arm lightly. "You sound like Speedrunner! Public image this, permanent record that. Give me a break."
Tommy couldn't help the manic smile that split across his face. Gradually, the two gravitated back to their chairs, though the conversation never slowed. It felt natural to speak with Purpled. There wasn't a moment where Tommy was uncomfortable or wary, despite the multitude of secrets that hung between them. He was certain they could've been friends under any circumstances, and at any point in history.
"It's getting late," Purpled said eventually. "I'll take you back to the cafe. Can you find your way home from there?"
"Yeah, the Craft's apartment has a bus straight there," Tommy yawned, checking his phone. "I'll barely have to walk a few blocks."
"The Craft's apartment?" Purpled tilted his head. They made their way towards the window-door-thingy. Tommy climbed out first while the other turned out the lights and shut the entrance tightly behind him. "You're not staying with your roommate?"
"Nah," Tommy grumbled. "I didn't want Ace to come looking for me there again."
"He came to your house," Purpled all-but shouted. He grabbed Tommy's shoulders, forcing him to make eye contact. "That crazy bastard."
"It's alright," Tommy assured. "Phil's about ready to chop his head off after the whole debacle. I'm safe with them."
Doubt was plain across Purpled's face, but he didn't pry anymore. Instead, he reduced himself to silence and led Tommy back through the maze of turns that got them to the safehouse. They stopped outside of the cafe.
The street lamps had turned on, and the sun dipped down on the horizon. Pale lighting cast shadows on Purpled's face. Both boys were hesitant to speak. The last time they had parted from this particular shop, one of them had been targeted by a mind-controller. Evidently, neither had fully recovered since then.
"So," Tommy spoke up. "I'll be off."
"Yeah," Purpled coughed. "Be safe. Come back to visit."
Tommy bumped his shoulder. "Next time we spar, I'll win."
The tension left the ex-hero's shoulders, and his features relaxed. He looked much younger beneath the early night sky. Tommy hoped nothing would ever take that away from him again. Purpled bumped his shoulder back, and bid him farewell, "I'll hold you to that."
"I expect nothing less."
With that, Tommy departed. In the dull glow of the cafe, and the surrounding street lamps, he trusted that history would not repeat itself. He wouldn't let the mind-controller steal another one of his friends from him again.
He had a lot to discuss with the Corporation.
~~~~
Heroes/Villains mentioned in this chapter:
Midnight - Phil
Icarus - Wilbur
Fortress - Techno
Hyperion - Tommy
Ace - Quackity
Alien - Purpled
Blink - Ranboo
Mecha - Tubbo
Speedrunner - Dream
Glitch - George
Devil - Sapnap
Bubblegum - Niki
Hothead - Jack Manifold
Firefly - Eret
Swirl - Karl
The Captain - Captain Sparklez
Corporation - SBI