There was nothing. Total whiteness, everywhere he looked. He blinked accordingly, but it wasn't overloading his eyes at all. The floor, if what he lay on was a floor, was solid, flat nothing. Touch just didn't register, somehow. It was not cold or warm or rough- it wasn't anything. Solid air. No matter how hard he pressed, though, something was there. He tapped one of his many mismatched finger rings against it and it made no sound.

Hadn't he died?

Feather looked down his body and stopped.

He had no damage now. None. His mechanical insides purred in perfect time. Every strand of false fur was there, laying flat in the direction he liked it. His gloves were spotless, and almost as white as the floor. The red fabric tabs, too, were blazing scarlet, free of age and stains. He slowly rotated the ring on his wrist, watching the light dance on the golden shine.

He squealed like a child and threw his arms around himself. He was beautiful.

"You sure are."

Feather scrambled to his feet.

A few feet away, where he was certain no one had been a moment ago, stood...himself. Someone who looked exactly like him, but with longer lashes and only two rings on their fingers. His first thought was Shadow, but the voice he'd heard was feminine.

Whoever it was, they folded their arms behind their back and smiled at him.

"Hello! You died." The greeting was chirpy, but slipped down an octave for the rest. "Sorry. I have good news, though!" Another spike in pitch. "If you start to feel weird, it means yer goin' back."

Feather stared at them and gaped, trying to process which question to ask first. "I know- Who are- I mean, how did-...I-?" He sputtered into silence, embarrassed by his inability to speak for once.

"I'm...God." They (She? Feather wasn't sure) said, and smiled again in a forced, polite sort of way. "I guess. It's, uh, hard to explain where this is." They paused, looking thoughtful. "I suppose right now it's an afterlife...soul storage thing? Something like that."

Their voice slid just about everywhere. God sounded more like an awkward teenager with a southern accent than...whatever a god sounded like. But then couldn't a god sound like whatever they wanted?

Oh, don't get distracted with that. How is he standing before a god at all?

"But that can't be. If this is an afterlife, then how could I possibly be here?" He had a hard time sounding anything but confused. "I'm a machine, everyone knows we don't..." Feather tapped his chest. He was much too aware now of the engine he had for a heart. "I...don't have a soul." He finished, quietly.

They poorly restrained an amused smile. "Well, you're here," They drawled, drawing their arms out from behind their back to cross them in front of their body, "Because I want you to be. And, uh," They glanced aside. Something black their size flickered where they looked. "To give my son time to put in the chaos drive. He doesn't want to kill y'all now since you're alive and stuff."

"That didn't answer...my..." Dizziness hit him and his indignant voice trailed off. Feather staggered, his vision swimming in static, and the white void turned black.

He started awake. For a moment his eyes were open but saw nothing, his insides thumping and whirring to get up to speed and process what was around him.

He was flat on his back. There was a sky again, grey and cloudy, framed by towering green and grey buildings. If he didn't know he'd been dead, he might have guessed that he'd laid down and fallen asleep there.

Fallen asleep. Shut down. Whatever it was. Could the last drops of power he'd had left make his cognitive circuits malfunction? Make him see and hear things that weren't there? Probably. It made more sense than what he recalled happening.

...Was he still hallucinating? Feather rubbed his hands sideways along the ground. Concrete. Snow. Rough and cold. Definitely feeling things. But maybe in a different dream he could.

If he is still dreaming, then-!

He shot up, grinning, and held up his gloved hands.

The smile faded. They weren't bright anymore. His insides ticked away, keeping him alive, but out of tune. His body was as dented and scuffed up and ugly as before.

Feather slumped, letting out a disappointed whine. If he is still seeing things, then even his imagination is a disappointment.

It did map out somewhere he knew, though. Just ahead on the right of the alley was a crumbled stone building, half demolished. At its side, the blue dumpster with the faded green logo on its side.

If all this was accurate, all he had to do was push it aside.

Feather stood up, waiting for the scenery to collapse or spin or something. The grey alley did nothing but blow a stiff, chilly wind at him. He shivered and took a step forward. Nothing happened.

So it was safe to move. Good, he could get inside and warm up. Why did he have to dream it being so cold?

He jogged over and shoved the dumpster. Its rusty wheels squealed in protest and begrudgingly rolled aside.

There was home. Bricks taken out of the wall in a rough circle almost as tall as he was, and rotting wood paneling within. It looked right. Maybe this is real after all?

But that couldn't be. He's dead. And inside is...far too quiet.

His engine heart thumped, loud and agitated. No. No no no his brothers have to be here, he needs them-!

Feather ran in, his metal quills banging against the brick.

Three silver gun arms pointed at him. Feather froze in the middle of the room. Orange behind his back, Green to the right, behind the ratty old couch like a sniper, and Blue, red-eyed, in the left corner. Green had no ammo left but Orange did and Blue's gun shot blasts of light and pain that needed no reloading. Behind Blue peeked out Yellow, surprised and scared.

His limbs felt like lead. He's just dreaming! Yeah. He's dreaming. He's dreaming, it's ok. If they shoot him he'll wake up.

He closed his eyes and waited.

"Wait." Blue. Confused, but on guard. "Down, everyone." He paused, and said, more severely, "Down, Green."

"I wanna shoot him anyway!" Green whined, his voice farther away than Blue's. "It's not like it's someone we know."

"H-he." He heard Yellow stammer quietly, "He d-did it?"

This dream is pretty realistic. Perhaps he should give his imagination some credit.

Something grabbed his arm. Feather yelped and spun around.

Tangerine LED eyes. Just Orange. Not aiming anything at him now, thank goodness.

"O-oh." Feather gasped and laughed nervously. "Orange. Don't do that."

Orange grabbed Feather's arm and stared at the numerous rings on his hand. He turned aside to the others and nodded.

Blue lowered his gun, his eyes flickering back to his namesake color. Back to himself, outside the kill programming. "Feather?" His voice lilted up in surprise. "How- Is that you?"

Feather nodded dumbly. Orange let go of him to no notice. Would they be this surprised in reality?

Green made a scornful noise, but lowered his grenade launcher a little. Yellow got out from behind Blue, and his face lit up.

"F-Feather! I knew Sha-" He looked panicked for a moment, and switched his words. "Uh- You!" He threw up his arms. "Y-You're alive!"

"I..." Feather looked around the room at his smiling brothers, teetering at the edge. Yellow lowered his arms and looked embarrassed.

This...feels real.

It's not a dream. They love him.

Feather grinned, his entire body vibrating, and broke into peals of happy laughter. "Yes!" He squeezed Yellow as hard and close as he could. "Yes, I am! I'm alive! I'm back! Yellow! I missed youuuuu!"

"I-I'm glad!" He squeaked, "O-Ow!"

"Sorry!" Feather gave him a pat, let go, and bounced into Blue's open arms. "Blue!"

Blue embraced him, the gun arm over Feather like a shield. "Feather, sweetie!" His voice trembled with emotion. If he could cry, he'd be blubbering. "I am so sorry, dear, we didn't know it was you! I can't believe you're alive."

"Blue! I missed you too." Feather said, nuzzling against Blue's shoulder. "I'm here to stay, I promise."

"I'm so happy you're home-"

"There you are, you piece of shit!"

Feather backed out from Blue's hug into Green grinning, and was whacked in the face for his trouble.

He paused, stunned for a second, but then laughed over Blue's scolding. "Same to you, asshole!" Feather yelled, almost with the same shark-tooth smile, and gleefully slapped him.

Green fell back onto the couch, rubbing his steel cheek, both swearing and laughing.

Orange was next. He allowed Feather's near-tackle, and though he didn't hug back he hummed. The vibration resonated like a cat's purr.

Wow.

The black and red android paused. He's so...happy. Maybe. Maybe too happy.

"You are real," He whispered, hugging Orange a little tighter, "Right?"

Pain bit his back. "Ow!" Feather jumped away. Orange's fingers were set in a claw in midair.

He opened his mouth and jabbed a finger at Orange, offended.

Then Feather got it and lowered his hand. "...Ok, ok," He said, simmering down, "I understand. You're all here."

Orange nodded, purring.

Yellow stepped in. "A-Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah!" Feather grinned again, "C'mere, you!"

Yellow again and everybody over, hugs and laughter for all. Somebody outside watching smiled, satisfied, and pushed the dumpster back over their happy ending.