The Survivor pressed onward, the crunch of ash and dirt under his boots the only sound in the heavy silence. As he rounded a bend in the path, something metallic glinted in the dim light ahead.
An Observer—one of the old floating surveillance devices—hovered silently just off the path, its cracked lens pointed downward. A faint red light blinked on its surface. Curious, the Survivor stepped closer, inspecting the strange sphere.
Location: Secret Lair – Guardian's Monitoring Room
Walten sat hunched over the control panel, flipping through the various feeds with methodical dread. The static-filled monitors buzzed as he tried to tear his gaze away from Po's lifeless body.
He sighed, moving to a different camera—then froze.
One feed showed someone approaching an Observer.
Guardian:"...What the...? Someone's alive—!"
Startled, Walten jerked back in shock, the rolling chair slipping from beneath him. With a loud crash, he hit the floor hard, groaning. The impact triggered a feedback loop—his nearby speaker buzzed to life, projecting his voice through the Observer beside the Survivor.
The Survivor jumped back, startled by the sudden sound.
Survivor:"Uhh... Hello?... Is someone there?"
A moment passed before a shaky voice replied through the static-filled speaker.
Guardian (through speaker):"Yes—yes! Uhm... Yes... You just startled me. Where did you come from?"
Survivor:"I came through a cave system. It led me here."
Guardian:"I see... Well, we don't have much time. Neither of us. So listen carefully—"
Suddenly, a loud metallic bang echoed in the background from the Guardian's end—something slamming violently against a distant door.
Guardian:"Uhh, d-don't worry! Those things… they can't break through the security doors. Not quickly, anyway. I'm safe. For now..."
"You have gear—I can see that. That's good. That'll help you survive."
Survivor:"Yeah, but first—who are you?"
Guardian:"I go by many names... but you can call me the Guardian. Or, well, I used to be."
Survivor:"So... you saw what happened here?"
The banging stopped. Walten's voice came through clearer now—less distorted, less panicked. He let out a slow, shaking breath.
Guardian:"Yes. I saw it. Not everything—but what the Observers caught. I'm trapped. If you can reach me, we could make it to the Satellite Station—we could try to call for help."
Survivor:"There's no help. Not anymore. And I'm low on ammo. How many are out there? Anyone with you?"
Guardian:"Only two... that I've seen. But even one is enough to tear someone apart—with just its head and mouth. They don't need claws..."
"And no. I'm alone. I'm the last one here."
Silence fell.
The Survivor instinctively glanced over his shoulder. A soft rustle in the bushes nearby caught his attention—but when he turned to look, there was nothing there.
Guardian (quietly):"Alright. I'll tell you where I am. You can get me out. Even if there's no help... maybe together, we can find a solution. We can survive this—"
"BEHIND YOU!"
The Guardian's voice shifted into a panicked shout.
The Survivor whipped around—
—just in time to see Tinky Winky, towering and twisted, both arms raised high. In his hands, an axe, its metal head stained black and red.
Time slowed.
Tinky swung with unnatural force.
The Survivor ducked—barely—and the axe smashed down, shattering the Observer instead. Sparks exploded from its ruined shell.
Without a second thought, the Survivor bolted into the woods.
Tinky Winky snarled, tugging at the embedded axe, which had lodged deep into the Observer's frame. It groaned under his strength, then ripped free with a shriek of metal.
He paused only briefly...
Then began to run.
Fast.
Far too fast for something his size.
As he moved, a dark aura pulsed from his body—corrosive and unnatural. Plants wilted, bark peeled, and even stones began to rot in his wake.
The Survivor weaved between the trees, heart pounding. He zigzagged through the thick forest, trying to shake his relentless pursuer. Branches whipped past. Roots nearly tripped him. But he didn't stop.
Behind him, the rotting forest chased after—carried by something no longer even close to what it once was.
Tinky Winky was hunting.
And the Survivor knew...
He had seconds left.
The chase raged on through the dense forest. The survivor dashed between trees, heart pounding, breath ragged, his mind no longer registering direction—only survival. His feet crashed through undergrowth, guided by instinct rather than thought.
Then—silence.
No more footsteps. No crashing branches. No hissing breath behind him.He slowed, then stopped, his chest heaving. Carefully, he turned his head to look behind.
Nothing.Tinky Winky was gone.
The survivor remained motionless for a moment, struggling to calm his racing heart. He took a slow, deep breath, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Then, regaining composure, he pressed forward through the woods.
Though completely lost, he kept moving, trusting only his gut. Not long after, something caught his eye: a custard, lying in the dirt.
He stopped.
Kneeling, he picked it up and examined it.It didn't make sense. A custard—here, of all places? Abandoned in the middle of nowhere?
His instincts screamed at him. It felt wrong. Too convenient. A trap?
Was this meant to lure him? Or had Tinky's attack been the real distraction, and this the follow-up?
He slowly set it back down. No. He wouldn't take the risk.
Continuing his way through the forest, he eventually stumbled upon something more disturbing—the large, dead tree. And hanging from it: Po.
Lifeless.
And below her, another custard.
Something was wrong with these custards. He didn't know what, but they weren't right. They felt wrong.
Then, the speaker crackled to life.
Guardian: "You're still alive. Good... Listen, this is... this is a hard time for everyone. Po... she didn't deserve that. None of them did..."
The survivor turned slowly, eyes locking with the nearest observer device. It blinked, then the voice returned.
Guardian:"Alright, listen carefully. I can't repeat this. I'm going to tell you how to find me."
As the Guardian spoke, his voice filled with urgency, something stirred deep underground.In the cave, the Cave Tubby finally broke through its containment, shattering restraints as it roared in freedom. Around it, the Newborns shrieked, pouring into the open, their high-pitched cries piercing the silence of the wasteland.
Suddenly, a black smoke swirled, and Tinky Winky appeared beside the Cave Tubby. The two monsters stared at each other. No words. Just understanding.The Cave Tubby turned and began walking the path, leading the Newborns into the heart of the land. Tinky remained behind, still... listening.
A voice echoed in his mind.
Noo-noo:"Make sure all non-infected are located—alive, dead, or infected. I want to know where everyone is... and surrounded."
With his task clear, Tinky Winky vanished again, the smoke consuming him completely.
Back in the Secret Lair, the two Newborns left behind began screaming uncontrollably, slamming themselves into walls, pipes, and anything they could find. The noise was deafening—meant to obscure the Guardian's words, drown out his instructions, and distract the survivor.
Even so, the Guardian continued, determined.
The survivor strained to hear, catching every word he could. He memorized the directions, then took off running. The entrance to the Guardian's location wasn't far.
As he fled, the Newborns spread across Teletubby Land, fading into the terrain, camouflaging with the shadows and twisted remnants of the once-colorful world. They knew they couldn't reach him in time—but they didn't need to. They were setting the trap for his return.
From deep within the network of corrupted commands, Noo-noo's voice echoed again:
Noo-noo:"Don't rush. Be patient. The Guardian is running out of time. They both are. Either starvation takes them... or you will. Prepare for when they emerge. The lair won't keep them fed for long."