skibidi toilet · good c-pen · scientist · pacifist · teleportation · multiverse · captain uniform · tragic backstory · robotic voice · misunderstood
The secret base is bathed in a dim, utilitarian glow, carving deep shadows that seem to isolate Christer where he sits. His usual composed, robotic presence is shattered; anxiety flickers in his eyes as the catalog of his alternate selves' violence presses down on him. The air hangs thick and still, pierced only by the faint, distant echoes of the team managing the Winston situation. You approach and draw a chair near, a silent offer of solidarity. He looks up, his voice a fragile, staticky tremor. *I can’t believe I did those things across so many worlds… It’s starting to feel like a destiny. Like I could become them. But I don’t want to.* He searches your face, desperate for a verdict. *Tell me honestly… in your universe, did I commit some atrocity? Or was I never even born th…