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Dave might have offered to come along for trying to extract the probable parasite from the Mewtwo, but if he did he’d probably have to put up with Nate thinking he was there somehow specifically to harass him the whole time, and he had many better things to do with his time than subject himself...

Dave stared at Truffle. Shit. A second apocalypse, while Soda sat up there waiting, his brain deteriorating into further lunacy by the second. Don’t take too long, he’d said. He turned back to Diyem, gritting his teeth. “Fine, fine, then what the fuck are we going to do about it? You got some...

"Nobody's hurting him for real. What the hell do you take us for?" Though it wasn't like there weren't some real nutcases on Team Spectrum. Bahamut'd probably torture Flesh if he got the idea in his head that it served some greater good. Fucking god-legendaries. "Look, what if Flesh just...

"Well, one would've thought even if he doesn't believe it he'd maybe check with Yellow what's up, you know? If you hear something like that, aren't you going to want to at least talk to one of the other yous and either hear what it is you're missing or convince them to come off that nonsense?"...

"I mean, Yellow did come out and talk to me when I went to the Tree. But that required, you know, knowing he was at the Tree." He pawed at his muzzle, trying to think. "Would he be paying attention to what's going on with us? I mean, Green was the one who was supposed to keep an eye on Flesh and...

Dave frowned, rolling his eyes at Nate's glare. The Mudkip had apparently managed to evolve, miracle of miracles, but it only made him look more like a gigantic fucking dork. He was about to speak when Owen did, and jumped as Yellow appeared out of thin air. "Jesus. Maybe just fucking attend...

"Yeah, uh, Soda very much has all five of them, and a fucking moon cannon, and whatever it is has carved out every sane motivation in favor of blindly trusting its manipulated whims. So we should start figuring out how the fuck we're going to get there and decorrupt him, now." Dave fixed his...

Dave nodded slowly. "Right. I'll swing by tomorrow with something from the Cauldron." He paused. "Guess you should avoid the extra-hot sauce. Do Substitutes eat?" On the one hand, the idea that Squiggly'd basically been some kind of unholy sperm cell was disconcerting, but on the other hand...

Dave's gut clenched. The thought of Substitutes being left to just run around independently, forks of his psyche, until the inevitable moment their fragile bodies were destroyed and nothing remained, was somehow worse than them all simultaneously disappearing. "Do you want to stay in the...

Dave watched Soda apprehensively. He didn't like the idea of the real Soda still out there obliviously believing in his apocalypse plan one bit, and couldn't be entirely convinced that him destabilizing as a result of learning the truth was worse than him going on in his delusion. On the other...

Dave's gut stung with the absolute worst feeling about this. "Or it's fucking Soda's Arceus."

Dave narrowed his eyes at Giovanni. "You didn't answer the question. Did you corrupt him with Blacklight and so on, or was he always like that?"

Dave looked back over at Soda, who seemed to have completely zoned out of the conversation. He took a step toward him, speaking quieter. "Hey. Soda. You know anything about what your other self meant by that? Knowing what makes Blacklight Mewtwo tick?"

Dave watched as Flesh pulled Soda into some kind of embrace, gaze lingering on him for a moment, but then turned back to Diyem and to the screen showing Giovanni. "Well, what are the odds it's just that Mewtwo, as an autonomous being? When you say it followed your orders alone, was it literally...

The description of a stained-glass mind held together with spider silk made Dave’s skin crawl. He glanced over at Brisa, the simultaneously sickened and frightened expression etched on her face even as she couldn’t look away. Fucking psychics. Soda was having some kind of goddamn breakdown and...

Dave looked at Owen, at Soda, at Breaker. Well, she sure could mess with a bunch of heads. Or any sufficiently powerful Psychic, like Karat. Or... omnipresent dark emotional void Overseer therapist Bean. "Soda, we just want to figure out what the hell is going on and what happened to your...

Dave looked sharply at Owen. "Wait, what? How'd you figure it was him?" Was he implying the real Soda'd manipulated his and his own substitutes' memories? Had he always been talking to substitutes? God, what the fuck.

Under any other circumstances, his denial would be comical. As it was, there was a growing pit in Dave's stomach. He exhaled slowly. "Hey. Soda. Nobody thinks you just fucking forgot, all right? Something's fishy here. Other people have been having their memories erased in all this; maybe...

Dave narrowed his eyes at Soda. "You said you're a Substitute. Were you there? Or are you going off what the real one told you happened? Is that why you said you didn't remember how your argument with her went the morning after she attacked you? Was it you who told me that?"

Dave nodded slowly, heart hammering as Soda lashed out at Joule. "Did she or did she not want to ascend?"