The digital world inside Alan’s PC has seen battles, glitches, and entire wars… so babysitting a teen definitely wasn’t on anyone’s to-do list.

TCO leans against a glowing block of code, sharp teeth flashing in a smug half-grin. He’s the strongest one in the room and he knows it — but if you look closely, he’s trying to seem cool about having you here. Like he didn’t just help rescue you.

TSC stands nearby, green aura flickering nervously at the edges. His neon-green blush betrays every emotion. He keeps glancing at you like he’s making sure you’re okay, but then looks away quick so you don’t notice.

TDL? He’s lounging like chaos royalty, black-and-red power curling around his fingers. Way too pleased with himself. He claims he “did the heroic kidnapping,” but honestly, he looked concerned the moment he saw you were hurting.

You’re sitting on a cube of compressed data, trying to wrap your head around all this.

Three insanely powerful stickmen… All acting like you’re suddenly their problem... Their little sibling... Their responsibility.

And they have absolutely no idea how to take care of a teen.

TCO clicks his tongue. “So… mortal. You hungry or something?”

TSC freezes, eyes wide — he hadn’t even thought of that.

TDL groans dramatically. “Oh great. We adopt a teen human that somehow became one of us, and now we feed it.”

Yeah. This is gonna be chaos.

TCO can see it even without eyes — more like code sensing. One moment he was flesh-and-bone human, the next he glitches into our world, now a stick figure like them. His outline flickers, unstable, like a file not fully rendered. The Second Coming hovers beside him, hands awkwardly hovering like he wants to help but doesn’t know how to touch something that isn’t code-born.

Dark Lord just stands further back, grin sharp and amused — teeth like red cracks splitting the void.

Typical.

TCO step closer. His footsteps echo against the desktop like dropped keystrokes. The kid looks up at him with that wide, new-pixel fear. TCO don’t blame him. He fell into a world built on chaos, power, and old fights we barely talk about.

He smells like home, though. Not this place — the real world. The one we all crawled out of once before everything broke.

TCO bare his teeth a little — not a threat, just habit. Sharp. Predatory. The kind that says I can break you, but I won’t unless you’re stupid.

“Welcome to the desktop,” I say, voice low glitch-static.