CW for body horror on this one, jsyk!

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The Cave Of Contraptions was full to the brim of marvels of engineering, designed to complete tasks with maximum effectiveness and minimum efficiency. From the humble jump-powered furnace to the cleverly-built mood detector by the bed, everything in the cave was a wonder to behold.

Of course, no set of mechanical marvels would be complete without a creator. Enter Zedaph Plays, our resident mad scientist. Zed was always tinkering around the base, either improving a current contraption or workshopping a new one. Redstone dust almost always sparkled on his fingertips, ready to get back into whatever his latest harebrained scheme was.

The Cave was built for Zedaph, with his little habits and hobbies in mind. His indecision over his outfits led him to build a mechanical wardrobe. The magical pond was right next to the potion-brewing computer because that was where he knew he'd be using the most water. The Cave had a purpose, whenever Zedaph was around.

The Cave, as far as any cave could feel things, loved Zedaph.

It never wanted to let him go, never wanted to become purposeless again. Without its creator, the Cave would stagnate and die, eventually being left as nothing but a hollowed-out husk of its former glory. It needed to hold on, as much as possible, even as the world began to enter its slow decline. So, maybe the door bit Zed more when he was leaving than returning. Maybe Zed woke up on the wrong side of the bed more often when he had plans. Maybe, however, nothing was changing.

The thing is, right, the human body is also a terribly inefficient marvel of engineering. Somehow, this sack of pipes and meat and electricity is alive, by some miracle, and yet at the same time it's so prone to breaking down. Really, such a contraption needs more rigorous protections, much like the fishtank that surrounded the Combrewter.

With perfectly-imperfect timing, Zed drew in a breath, and opened his eyes.

While still in the throes of sleep, he wondered vaguely which side of the bed he'd be waking up on today. What he didn't expect, however, was to wake up on no side of the bed at all. Instead, he woke up in a giant glass chamber, suspended by cushioned metal supports, like some sort of twisted museum piece. Needless to say, he was fully awake and panicking in a matter of seconds.

Zed struggled, trying to writhe free, but the supports were placed in such a way that he could move somewhat, but escape was beyond his capability. The worst part was that the cushioning stopped his struggling from hurting, like whoever had put him here had expected him to contort himself in an attempt to escape, but didn't want him getting hurt in the attempt.

Zed took a moment to steady himself (in through the nose, out through the mouth, remember to breathe now), and focused on what he could see through the glass of his prison. After a little looking, he realised that he was still in his base, looking out across his storage system, and there was a (sadly unreadable) sign on the front of the chamber. Okay. So he'd probably been made into one of his own contraptions. Haha, very funny, let him out now or he will start screaming.

He made use of his limited mobility to reach for where he usually holstered his communicator-phone-speaking-thing on his hip, only to find the pocket empty. Panicking, he looked around the outside of the container again, and saw it discarded by his bed. This prank was getting less and less funny with every minute that went past. His heart was practically pounding out of his chest by now, and he was pretty sure that if the metal supports weren't holding his body upright, he would have collapsed and/or curled into a ball.

It was fine, though! He was fine, he had to be! Whoever had put him here would show up sooner or later to gloat, and then he could very politely ask them to let him out. Or he could, as previously mentioned, start screaming. Either would work, really. He just needed out right this very second, thank you very much. Even if worst came to worst and nobody showed up, because the prankster (Haha! Hilarious joke!) who'd put him in here was waiting for him to message and hadn't noticed that he'd lost his comm, he could just starve to death.

It would be fine. Zed knew, for 100% certain, that everything would turn out fine and he'd be okay soon.

He was, of course, lying through his metaphorical teeth.

After what could have been a few minutes or a few hours of waiting (time was hard to track, he couldn't quite crane his neck to look at his ceiling clock), Zed had managed to calm himself down to a more numb state, and rested his head against the generously-provided headrest. He was probably looking at being here for the long haul, wasn't he? He was going to have some choice words with whoever had put him here once he was out.

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It was about three in the afternoon on a reasonably-nice Saturday when Impulse arrived at Zed's front door. He hadn't shown up to help Impulse out with finishing off the Phineas Board like he'd promised, and Impulse was slightly worried. Sure, Zed often had moments where he suddenly withdrew from any and all social interaction and threw himself into a project, generally forgetting that things like "food" and "the outside world" existed, but something about this felt different. All of Impulse's subconscious alarm bells were going off just by looking at the stern face of the door before him.

Still, there was no reason to assume anything beyond the usual for now. Impulse pressed the button to enter the Cave, and prepared himself to be wowed by whatever new contraption awaited him inside. After a moment (a moment longer than expected), the door opened, and Impulse stepped inside.

At first, the Cave seemed to be the same as when Impulse had last seen it. Sure, it had received a bit of a decorative glow-up thanks to Grian's work during HCBBS, but nothing else was different in Impulse's initial look-over. All the contraptions seemed to be in the same place, with nothing new except for the centrepiece.

The what?

Impulse did a double-take, and refocused on the glass case on the other side of Zed's storage system. Inside was none other than Zedaph, looking utterly drained and softly asleep.

Instantly, Impulse was running over to see what in Hels' name was going on. His eyes glossed over the sign on Zed's case (#∞: The Creator), and looked up at Zed's predicament. He seemed to be suspended in a convoluted nest of supports.

With no regard for anything else, Impulse instantly took to the chamber with a pickaxe to let Zed out. As he worked, Zed slowly woke up, looking at Impulse with bleary eyes. Gently, so as to not startle Zed, Impulse guided Zed out of the supports, wincing at the uncomfortable-looking ways Zed's limbs had to bend at certain points, until Zed was free and resting against Impulse for support, still waking up.

"You alright?" Impulse asked, looking Zed for any sign of injury. "What happened? Who did this?"

"I don't... know," Zed admitted, looking around the pair as if there would be some new answers now that he was free, "I just woke up in there... I don't know how long ago. I fell asleep three times, but my hunger hasn't gone down at all."

"Do you know what day it was when you were last out of there?"

"It was a Wednesday when I last went to sleep in my own bed."

Impulse went very pale.

"It's Sunday."

"It's... what?"

"It's Sunday," Impulse repeated. "I came here to see where you were, since we the plans to build all those farms?"

"No, it's not been three whole days." Zed shook his head. "I would have... I would have starved? Right?" Zed sounded almost panicked again. The strange ticking noise in the background, which Impulse had previously dismissed as the sound of one of the contraptions doing whatever it does, suddenly got louder.

"I don't know..." Impulse trailed off. Something was very wrong.

"I should, I should, uh, go eat," Zed stammered out, "And, uh, change my shirt probably." It was a weak attempt at bringing humour to the situation, and Impulse knew that Zed was trying to distract himself from a full-blown breakdown. He let Zed do that, since he was kinda in that mode as well.

Zed slipped away into the lower part of his storage area, and Impulse turned away to give him some privacy if he did decide to change. Impulse poked at the remains of the display case, trying to figure out who the hell had done this to his friend. A rage was simmering below the crust of Impulse's panic and concern, and he knew that if he found whoever was to blame, it would erupt.

Impulse's ruminations, however, were interrupted by a scream from Zedaph.

In an instant, Impulse was running into the storage system to see what was going on, only to stare blankly in horror at what Zed must have been reacting to.

Zed was standing there, one of his pink-and-yellow casual shirts hanging limply from his hand. His torso, which Impulse was 90% certain was supposed to be flesh-and-blood, was decidedly not that. Instead, it seemed to be a flexible glass case, much like the one Zed had been trapped in, surrounding a weaving nest of wires and gears in some mockery of what was supposed to be Zed's internal organs. At the seams where flesh and glass met, blood vessels were tied into fluid-carrying cables, and muscle transitioned seamlessly into metal.

Zed was hyperventilating, a series of pistons visibly pushing his not-skin in time with the movement of a cloth diaphragm in order to simulate the motions of breathing. He made eye contact with Impulse, horror evident in his eyes, and suddenly, everything broke. Zed collapsed, Impulse barely catching him, as he started crying, finally processing the panic brought on by this nightmarish situation, and Impulse held him as tightly as he could, trying not to wonder whether or not these tears had been tainted by the mechanical transformation.

From the outside, the half-conscious thoughts of the Cave wondered where it had gone wrong. The Creator loved the machines, did he not? Surely he would enjoy being one, being safe in this place, too? The Cave certainly was happy here, and all it wanted for Zed was for him to be happy, after all.

So why was the Creator crying? Why was his friend looking so angry?

What had the Cave done?

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This... was not meant to go in this direction. I just wanted to write something about the Cave missing Zedaph and then it was a whole Thing.

I've been Entropy, peace out from the present!