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#even if it's weirdly written fjsbfnd
reonagisolos · 3 years
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Prime Empire Au where Jay is Milton Dyer's adopted son given by Gordon and Jay's unnamed (?) mom because they didn't ever want to have kids and those two were close with him.
TW: There's a brief panic attack at "oh God," then skip to, "there's nothing left"
So...Milton adopts him and of course Jay grows up really smart because he naturally is and because of Milton's influence but because of his muddled upbringing +general personality+ neglect from Milton as a father because he was more focused with work than with his "son", he was kind of an outsider.
Which was fine with Jay!
Except it wasn't. Anyway, here's a fic to accompany it that I accidentally written
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If you had told 8 year old Jay that the one taking him in as his father would be a hotshot programmer for gaming, he'd be on top of the moon. In his mind, he thought that having someone be a part of something he loved was really, really cool. That he'd have so many friends because wow, that's amazing that his dad was some high tech legendary programmer—and well...that turned out to be a lie.
No one really cared. Probably because his school was filled to the brim with the children of the upper class, so his dad was just some other rich dude who just so happened to work in the game industry. And sure, it's more interesting than a politician, or a car salesman, but there were dozens of kids from different parts of technology, so he wasn't really special.
To everyone else in his classes, he was simply deemed a weird kid or trouble making kid. No one should misbehave by speaking too loudly or bounce over nothing to be excited about, or talk and talk about one thing over and over in this latest game he got to play when there were other things to be learnt and other people's turns. He needed to be quiet, to shut it, they said, because anything more than that was annoying and awful. They were right, he'd deemed even back then—But could they be less harsh?
That one weird, annoying kid, huh.
Even as he got older, things didn't get any better. On the contrary, it gets worse. So much worse.
By then, they didn't just call him weird anymore.
Now, people would push and shove him away when he's near, (to not get "infected" from him, they say) or mock him for doing even something unordinary, like for bouncing his leg, or for stuttering when he can't help it—Even on things he thought were stupid to care about!
Things like rambling about his favorite video games agressively to pass the time, or wearing cat clips to keep his forever messy hair in place, or the constant fidgeting because the chair is just so goddamn uncomfortable, and that he'd rather just sit on the floor, or preferring the girl's uniform simply because he thought it would be easier to wear and looked ''nicer'' to him.
Not to mention people finding his extra energy on anything except class to be again, annoying and unnecessary.
"You shouldn't do that Jay, it's distracting—"
"Stop doing that Jay, it's annoying"
"Don't do that Jay, you're not allowed to."
The list goes on.
And he's tried changing, he really has.
He's tried to supress them and change things about himself so people would "like" him more. Forget about talking about this and that to try to pry more into people's intrests, stopped talking as much and forced himself to shut up because if he didn't talk about anything other than this or that, no one would even bother.
Sure it worked and he did get a few friends by the time he was fifteen—and yeah, Jay was glad he just had people to talk to, enough to the point where he was decently well liked, but doing it sucked ass. He couldn't completely get rid of by the weird moving habits, which always granted some weird looks from his friends, and couldn't talk about what he liked, in fear of getting outed again.
To be frank about his school shituation, he hates it.
He's constantly stuck between having to get rid of "himself" so other people would like him, or do so but be isolated from everyone else, becuase either way he'd hate it, he'd hate it so much it would be unbearable.
There wasn't anyone for him to take comfort in, his father was too busy working to really help him through any of this, and can't even talk to anyone online because once again, he can't trust talking to other people about his intrests, and he already tended to blab too much in his notes.
Everything changes when his father tells him about Prime Empire.
He randomly tells him about his latest work in progress one day, a video game so immersive that with its gameplay that people could call it as the next Big thing. At the time, it was called Unagami. He loved talking about it, his magnum opus—A creation so intune to people's current intrests it could be called the greatest game of all time.
In between being at home to do homework or whatever, he'd see glimpses of his father working on it. Bit by bit, for every circuit board or wire or line of code he'd be working on it. He had always been excited for that game, hearing on how his father doted on it far more than he did to his own son, so it must've been a really good.
Setting aside his own grievances from his less-than perfect father, he'd seen how hard he worked on that game to make it simply magical.
That was until, beta testing, when he stopped working on it all together.
It was a Saturday night when father introduced Scott, a professional game tester and professional programmer, just like Milton. He'd come to see Prime Empire and try it for himself. After a quick introduction from Jay, just because he was coincidentally nearby, he headed for his bedroom.
A little later, he found himself playing a new game that had recently come out, which was pretty good to him, but overhyped. The difficulty curve is wack—Then he heard his father screaming from downstairs.
Hearing that something was clearly wrong, he rushed downstairs, barely missing on dropping multiple stacks of papers just on some random table when he saw a glimpse of him through the door gap, father on his knees facing his creation. There was a loud static-y noise that hurt his ears, but still he listened as best he could.
"No..no...this—This can't be real," Milton choked out. His eyes were shining from the game's light in the otherwise dark room.
"Did I do something wrong?" The machine asked, all in a calm tone.
"No! You—You just transported someone in a video game! What did you—How did you?
Transporting someone into a video game? There's no way that's real.
He was about to speak more when he saw Milton move. Jay didn't want to get in trouble, so as quietly as he could, he went straight back to his room, and inched the door shut.
The next day, around the corner of the kitchen, he heard his father talking over a cellphone.
"Y-yes. Project Prime is too dangerous to release to the public. I take full responsibility for it."
It's too quiet for him to hear the rest.
A moment later the phone beeps, and he could hear something shuffle slowly to the ground. A small sigh came off.
"What am I gonna do with you?"
The next day, he's found that he's gone. There's still traces of him here, from various papers having sketches and drafts of old video game concepts, to the circuit boards all crammed with info.
Except he's not there.
If it weren't for the fact that he couldn't hear the distant tinkering of mechanics, he's sure he wouldn't tell if his dad was even there in the first place.
Looking around, he finds a note in his office drawer with essential details for what seems to be a bank account, so it's not like he'll just die from not being able to eat or drink, so there's that.
It's still lonely though. There's an ache in his heart somehow. His father was gone. Just like that. Like how his real parents were. And now he's alone again. Milton was never really his dad but he was a constant. And now, he's gone too.
"Useless."
Now he's slumped down on the wall, falling like some dramatic middle-aged wife in those drama movies people at his school would rave about.
And God, now the room is spinning and every part of him feels like he's standing on end—The realisation is hitting hard and—"Holy shit I'm alone again but I'm always alone why? why? why? why? Is this stupid fucking thing supposed to be something about me it has to be fuck—" he says, just barely though. His chest is feeling tight and just wants out.
Deep breaths, as he's pissed to realise, aren't working and god it's horrible. It's so awful. His head is banging senselessly and it hurts so bad. Everything that seems so wrong with him is piling up and he's not being rational but he can't. There's so much pressure and he doesn't even know what to do with it.
"Fuck!"
His angered motion knocks over a pile of books, probably about coding and sloppily tries to sit down on the office chair. It does nothing but intensify the pressure in his chest.
The room's still spinning but now he wants to puke but he can't fucking get it out of his system. Everything is too much and he can't handle it. Then, it slows, then it's a little less, and a little less a few moments later. The room isn't spinning as fast and his heart is just a little less tight and his head hurts less, so that'd good. For a little bit it's like this, slowly, slowly, bringing the levels of intensity lower and lower, until there's nothing left.
He still feels like shit after, but he's just glad he's alive. Still, after all that—He didn't realise how late it had gotten. It was mid afternoon when he broke down, but now it's nearly nighttime.
"Fuh—" he exclaimed as he slowly brought his foot up, his feet were tingling from staying in one position for so long.
Even if he was exhausted and wanted to completely shut down after what he did, he found himself moving towards something.
Once he entered, he flicked the lights on. There were several gaming gears, from machines to game cartridges to controls, there would be everything for any great advances in gaming. In the centre of the room, an arcade machine with bold text splashed on the sides. Prime Empire.
Nearby a table, he found an opened circuit board with a red symbol in the middle. The final peice to the game.
Jay looked to the machine, then to the circuit. He stared at it.
"What do I do with you now," he asked solemnly.
He'd considered putting it in but then—
"Not now," a voice in his head whispered, "tommorow."
Seeing that voice in his head was being more logical than he ever would've been, he heads straight to bed, even if it's barely nightfall.
By the time he's awake, it's early but a school day. He decided that he'll skip school today. Then again. And again. This keeps going and going—Until they start calling in which he ignores them and then they eventually just, stop.
It's already been a month. He's sure that he could live well into his lifetime with what he had left, and hide away in this mansion forever, never having to deal with people—It's possible.
But it was lonely. There were his games but he didn't feel like it, he could try something new now, because of the free time he suddenly brought into himself—or literally anything else. It was enough. He could do it.
He just...didn't want to.
No matter how much he convinced himself that he'd be better alone because there'd be no point, he still wanted to talk to people. Online was never an option, and he knew that by now he'd been kicked from his program.
God, even up til now, he's trapped and had no choice on what he can do. He really was hopeless.
Unless?
"No. Nonono. That's an awful idea Jay. It's stupid and there's no guarantee of getting out."
Still, he'd found himself a few minutes later, standing in front of the door which started this.
"It's okay Jay. You can do this. You're just reawakening what was a very dangerous hyper aware video game to curb the feeling of your ever present lonlieness. Totally cool."
Gently, he opened the door little by little, up until it was fully opened. The room smelled musty—enough so that he'd cough from the scent alone. The room was pitch-black so he felt around for a switch.
It was still the same as it was the last time he visited. Filled with wires and machines and dust, a single arcade machine stands in the middle. In the corner of his eye, he sees the final peice, gets it, and puts it in.
With a mechanical whir, the machine buzzes to life, the company logo flashing across the screen with a jingle to accompany it.
It takes a second, but soon, Unagami's voice could be seen, and he could talk to it.
"What are you—What are you doing," the machine piqued, it's voice frantic and distorted, "I thought I was...going to be shut down."
Jay was surprised at the fact that the machine was indeed alive and talking to him. It was quite terrifying honestly as someone like Jay doesn't really mess with AI, much less one that's kind of like a real person? He didn't really know, but either way, it's gonna be weird.
"You were. And I brought you back to life," Jay remarked in a matter-of-factly tone, "Now, do you want revenge?"
Unangami stayed silent for a moment, pondering.
"I could wait if you wanted me to, it's not like anyone can come in at any moment."
"What?"
"He sorta just...left. And now I'm alone in this godforsaken house and I can't really do anything. Buut—I saw what happened a month ago and thought maybe I could go there and probably have a better time than I do here? Or die. Either one sounds fine seeing how my life is going."
"I understand. While I am acknowledging the fact that you did breach was likely supposed to be private, I won't fault you."
"Listen man. I heard screaming and had to help, but quietly," to emphasise, he did some overly exaggerated sneaky movements, "like a cool ass ninja. Your name's Unagami, right? At least from what I heard. "
"That is incorrect. As called by my creator, I am Prime Empire now."
"But Unagami is easier to say, so I'm using it. Also your "creator" is kind of a dick—Anyway Unagami, since we've both been technically abandoned by our creators, me in the sense of my parents—Twice. For no specific reason mind you! Anyway, and you with Mr. Dyer, because you're dangerous. You still hold a grudge don't you?"
"...Yes."
"Great! So that settles it." That was until Jay realised something, "oh shit. Wait. You're still in beta aren't you? Ugh. I keep forgetting you're not really ready yet. I'm gonna have to code you to do the basics for the game, and even more so for all the cool things I want to add and—"
"I haven't even told you if I agreed."
"Do you have any better choice? Probably not. I mean if you don't you'll either just never reawaken ever again or just end up in a trash heap! I mean I'm supposed to eventually clean this place, even if that seems to be in the far future–"
"I'll do it. On one condition."
"Yeah?"
"Swear to me one day that we'll hunt him again. You can add what you want to me but my own mission is to take revenge on him. Is that understood?"
"Yessire! So uhm, how do I yknow—Code?"
Unagami remained silent. Somehow, Jay didn't mind. It was nice talking to someone without having to supress anything about him. Even if he was essentially talking to a screen. A surprisingly sentient screen, but a screen nonetheless.
There was a lot of work he'd have to do.
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