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That’s all he could see. There was nothing. Fitting, isn’t it? The Heir of Void, trapped in a bubble of… Nothing.

It was impossible for him to tell had long it had been since his death, and then the explosion of Arquiusprite. It could have been hours, days, or even sweeps.

His name is Equius Zahhak, and he feels like a complete, and total failure.

He sits in his bubble. Out of the nothing, there comes voices, no, a single voice. His voice. In his rough voice, it snaps a constant stream of, “Failure. It’s all your fault. You were never strong enough. You couldn’t even protect her when it counted. You failure, and you had the nerve to call yourself her moirail. Failure. Failure.

He pulls his legs a little tighter to his chest. No longer does he bother to cover his ears, the voices only grow louder. He closes his eyes a little tighter, makes his large frame a little smaller. “Disappear, just disappear.” The burying of his face in his arms. “Why don’t you see if you can die again? That’s all you seem to be good for anyway.”

Louder and louder they grew. It became impossible to tell if they were floating around through the bubble or if it was all just in his head. Hurriedly, he searched through his sylladex, hoping with all of his being that there was something, anything, to distract him from his own thoughts. “You’re a failure that shouldn’t even exist.”

Fumbling, he finally found an old pile of robot parts he had. He knew what he was going to do, and quickly set to work. “Build build build build…” Became his new mantra, repeating it over and over again in a fruitless attempt to drown out the chorus around him. “Build, you worthless excuse of a blue blood. Build. Build. Build.”

Frame work grew, robots became functioning. Around him came the forms of his old friends, but they were just that. There was always something wrong. Eridan’s had the wrong pitch of voice, Kanaya’s didn’t move like she did, and Nepeta’s… Nepeta’s was never completely right, no matter how many hours upon hours Equius spent working on her. “Worthless.”

The chorus continued to grow around him. His shaking hands couldn’t program the robots correctly at times. Nepeta looked at him, and he hoped that he got her right this time. Maybe he could have some remnant of her left. “You couldn’t even protect yourself.” Quickly, he switched her- no, it. That thing wasn’t her- off and gently took her apart to began it all over again. “Build, build, build…”

“What kind of a moirail even are you?”

“Build, build… Build…”

“They all hated you anyway. It would be no wonder if they celebrated upon hearing your death.”

“Build… Build… Build…”

This was how he spent all of his time. Building, programing, messing up, destroying. “Build, build, build.” That simple word fought against the biting words of his own conscious. “They would have been better off if you had taken care of the problem earlier.”

He built Nepeta again, one more time and he’d get her right. Just one more time. He closed his eyes as he switched her on, hoping that for once he would have done something right. Just this once, he wanted to have not messed up.

Her eyes glowed and focused on him. Her expression unchanging, she bluntly said, “Why didn’t you save me?”

He sunk to his knees. No. No no no please no. Not her. How could he have made that mistake with her again? “Stop…”

“Why were you the worst moirail ever?” Her cold eyes followed his movements.

“Stop… Please…”

Her expression suddenly grew harsh. “I hate you.”

“Plea… s… e…”

“I. Hate. You.” She hissed, towering over him now. He could only remain silent. “I hate you!!! I hate you and you’re nothing!!! Nothing!!!” Her cold eyes burned into him. His eyes filled with blue tears, and he found himself nodding along with her.

After all, he programed her to his own thoughts.

What he build wasn’t her. No, it was simply his own thoughts in her form, and her words were the last thing he heard before the darkness surrounded him once more.