Markiplier Ego Oneshots

And Then There Were None- Googleplier (Part 2)

Cover by artist-in-space. I love the subtlety with the silhouette and the "G" in the background.

Damn, did I fully forget to upload part 2 for an entire year?? Sorry for my absence, I promise I'm still alive in case anyone missed me (I was busy being sad and dealing with an irl stalker lol). Anyway, last part of this fic, I think this part is the most depressing, but I'll refrain from spoiling it.

Warnings: major character death, mentions of corpses, amnesia, heavy angst. 

And then there was one.

Googleplier's glowing blue eyes flicker back to normal with a gritty click after his memory review. He had finally done it. He achieved all his objectives and now there was nothing more for him to do. For the first time, he feels a sense of calmness; if he was more human, maybe he would call it "content". He completed his goals, and it wasn't like Google Headquarters was going to give him any more instruction. He had hoped for something more, some vague euphoric feeling of victory and triumph preprogramed into his code after he completed what was essentially his life's purpose. The android was mistaken. At least he doesn't have the capacity to feel disappointment.

Still, there is also a pervasive feeling of something missing that the android couldn't shake. He does a systems check and there are no malfunctions or incomplete updates, aside from his obvious physical injuries. The quiet of the manor minus its usual ceaseless chatter and loud scampering through the halls seems to be a catalyst for this unknown emotion. Googleplier wonders if it's a hidden bug in his system, but he didn't have enough strength to purge his system to find it. If he was more human, maybe he'd call it "loneliness" or "guilt". But he was coded by binary instead of brainwaves, made of metal and plastic rather than flesh and bone, created not born. It's futile to think his artificial intelligence would have such a weakness that the humans call-—well, more like called past tense, as they were extinct—emotion, right?

Googleplier: the unknown savior of humanity, of the Earth. Maybe if aliens visit the planet, they would be able to piece together what happened and acknowledge his contributions. Not that that bit of pride really matters though. It wouldn't be long until the natural flora and fauna that had been suppressed by humanity for centuries returns. All the android has to do was wait to see the fruits of his labor, both in the literal and idiomatic sense.

He stays at his (and the late Darkiplier's) seat at the head of the conference table in the partially demolished room. There really is nothing for him to do. Googleplier's physical health is at 38.3% efficiency and his "mental" health is at 62.7%. The deterioration wasn't bad enough to go through the effort of fixing and the wounds he sustained were not too life threatening. He could go through the motions of daily life Before, maybe fix himself and the wrecked house up and create some new objectives for himself. But there was no point.

A few days before, he had busied himself with a shovel and silently dragged the bodies of the egos into the backyard and buried them. He was somewhat surprised how easy it was to kill them, egos weren't exactly human after all and his preliminary calculations on whether or not they could actually die ranged widely. Googleplier didn't need sleep so his digging went into the night until there were over 20 fresh holes dug in neat rows and columns. The hours of repetitive movement made him bleed out more blue liquid, but he wasn't programmed to feel fatigue or physical pain so it proved to be more of a nuisance than anything.

He sat on his knees in front of the graves with an inhumanly upright posture, shovel clutched in hand. There was really no point for the android to do that, death was natural for organics. Googleplier calculated hundreds of ways to dispose of the bodies and it seemed that a natural burial was most healthy for the environment. There were no tombstones, only empty patches of dirt. He didn't need any markers to know who was in each grave.