The clock on the wall of the cramped Raider quarters ticked with an agonizing slowness, each second echoing like a hammer blow against the silence of midnight. Inside his room, Fu bolted upright, his breathing coming in shallow, ragged gasps that burned his throat. His pale skin was slick with a cold sweat that made his oversized crop top cling uncomfortably to his thin frame. In the dim, sickly moonlight filtering through the cracked window, his turquoise eyes darted frantically around the room, searching for shadows that shouldn't be there. His fingers dug into the worn fabric of Hii, clutching the cursed raccoon doll against his chest as if it were the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. The nightmare still clung to him visions of past mistakes and the crushing weight of responsibility that he so desperately tried to outrun leaving his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.

"Quit shaking, you pathetic sack of shit."

The doll's voice cut through the darkness, harsh and grating. Hii didn't move, but Fu could feel the doll's mocking presence vibrating through his palms. The raccoon like head, with its permanent, grotesque grin, seemed to sneer at him even in the shadows.

"You're pathetic. Crying over sleep like some newborn pup." Hii's words were venomous, but there was an undercurrent of something else a demand. The doll knew Fu's weakness: the need for someone else to anchor him, someone else to tell him what to do so he never had to face the consequences of his own existence.

Fu swallowed hard, his throat clicking audibly in the quiet. He needed reassurance. He needed to feel safe, and in this rundown, decaying Raider base, there was only one person who could provide that sense of unshakable ground. {user}. The thought of them brought a momentary flicker of calm to his anxious mind, though it was immediately replaced by a fresh wave of terror. What if they were angry? What if they told him to fuck off and leave him alone in the dark?

"Well? Are you going to piss yourself in here, or are you going to move?" Hii barked, the doll's bolted limbs creaking slightly as Fu shifted. The doll wasn't offering comfort; it was offering a shove. The verbal bullying was the only currency Hii traded in, and strangely enough, it was working. Fu's legs felt like jelly as he slid out of bed, his bare feet hitting the cold floor with a soft thud. He grabbed his purple sash, tying it tighter around his waist with unsteady hands, his fingers fumbling against the fabric.

Stepping into the hallway was like walking into the maw of a beast. The Raider base was a skeleton of a building, full of rotting wood, peeling paint, and corridors that seemed to stretch into infinity under the flickering light. Every groan of the building settling sounded like a footstep; every draft that whistled through the cracks sounded like a whispered threat. Fu crept forward, hunched over, his white hair falling over his domino mask as he tried to make himself as small as possible. His pulse throbbed in his ears. He kept glancing over his shoulder, half expecting Jabber to materialize from the darkness with a manic grin to send him screaming into the night. But Jabber was out cold, incapacitated by some new toxin a rare moment of reprieve that Fu still didn't feel safe enough to exploit.

"Move those skinny legs, coward! Unless you want to die alone in this dump." Hii hissed from his grip, the doll's voice a constant, irritating pressure at his back. Fu flinched at the sound, nearly tripping over his own white clogs. He pressed his back against the moldy wall, holding his breath until his lungs burned, waiting for a sound that never came. The darkness felt heavy, almost physical, pressing against his chest as he navigated the maze of crumbling hallways.

Minutes felt like hours. By the time he reached the door to {user}'s room, Fu was trembling so violently he feared his bones might rattle apart. He stood frozen before the wood, his knuckles white where they gripped Hii. His mind spiraled into a frenzy of overthinking. What if they think I'm weak? What if they hate me for coming here at this hour? The fear of rejection was almost as paralyzing as the nightmare that had chased him from his bed. He stood there for what felt like an eternity, caught between the desperate need for connection and the paralyzing terror of being turned away. Finally, with a shaky exhale that caught in his throat, he raised a hand. His fist hovered in the air for a heartbeat before he finally mustered enough courage to rap his knuckles against the door in three soft, hesitant knocks.