Notes: Concept for a return appearance by Hexadecimal.

Twisted Fate
- Part [x]: Aunty Hex

Lost Angles was a strange and desolate place, but it was somewhere that Codec liked to be. He was drawn here by forces he could not explain, by the pull of his instincts, and he would not argue with that. He knew that Lost Angles was an important places as far as his genesis went - both his grandfather, Welman Matrix, and his long-lost Aunt, the insane Hexadecimal, had legacies here, and he felt that maybe it were the memories of these pasts that brought him here often.

He scuffled across the dusty ground today at a sluggish pace, dragging his feet over the floor whilst nulls of various colours rushed between and around his legs like rats following the pied-piper; he figured the same thing that had drawn them to Hex now drew them to him, but he prayed that this didn’t mean he might go insane sometime soon.

He made his way across the island and through the dead streets until he reached Hexadecimal’s deserted lair, and then, without even a mere wish on his part, the floor opened for him and took him into the lair’s core as if he were now its master.

He knew Hex’s lair quite well. It was a strange and bewildering place at first sight, but once one got past the crazy décor and off-the-wall architecture, it was all really quite simple, most of it consisting of little more than a central chamber. Codec’s rational, viral nature made seeing through the façade very easy, and he thanked his father for that.

And so, as always, he took at seat in the centre of the Queen of Chaos’ fortress and then stared vacantly into her blank and inactive looking-glass. Nothing happened. It never did.

Breathing a sigh, Codec slouched in Hex’s spidery throne, then shifted about until he was laid with his back on the seat and his legs shot up into the air, leaning on the throne’s support.

And then he felt a strange sensation in his chest, a chill of foreboding, and he knew that something was actually going to happen; the lair was to be dead no longer.

“Well, well, well - who’s this?”

Codec might have jumped if he held the constitution of a normal sprite, but with Megabyte’s blasé code firmly ingrained into his personality, he was ill likely to. He simply frowned and righted himself on the chair, before, staring into the mirror, he saw a face… or rather a large, white mask. He cocked his head to one side and then waited.

“Now those eyes I know,” the female voice went on, and, in the blink of an eye, the passive expression of the mask changed to a curious one. “My dear brother’s eyes.”

Codec smirked - her brother could hardly be dear, if her tone was anything to go by.

“But you are not him,” she went on.

Codec shook his head slowly but still said nothing.

“Who are you? And why are you in my palace?”

Codec’s eyes widened a fraction. So it was her… “You’re Hexadecimal,” he said.

The face laughed mildly. “Oh, aren’t you clever?”

“Don’t patronise me.”

“Ooh, and touchy, too.”

“My name’s Codec. My format is…” He dithered - he’d never quite discovered what his format was.

“Your format is what…?”

“I dunno… ‘Spiral’? ‘Virite’?” He pursed his lips and pondered on this. In the end, when the green eyes of the now uncertain mask began to burn irritatingly hard into him, he just sighed and confessed, “I’m part sprite, part virus.”

“But how can that be?” Hexadecimal asked. “Are you infected?”

He shook his head. “Not really. Part of my code’s viral.”

“But it’s not possible. You are either sprite or virus, you cannot be both.”

Codec shrugged. “Well, I am.”

The mask regarded him again for a moment and then it laughed wickedly. “Well, wonders never cease, as they say!”

She cackled on for far too long, and it soon began to grate on Codec’s nerves. “All right, shut up already!” he grouched as he covered his ears.

“Oh, poor touchy baby,” she teased.

Codec jumped off the seat and held a fist to the mirror. “I’m not a baby! I’ve compiled up several times already!” And then it happened again - the giant, yellow claws burst forth from his knuckles, breaking through his flesh with a terrible tearing noise and halting but inches from the glass of the mirror.

The face of Hex stared at these savage appendages for a significant moment before, with a knowing smile, she said, “Please sit down, Codec, and tell me about you.”

Codec found that, for some reason, he did as he was told, and as soon as he was seated again, his claws disappeared once more beneath the green skin of his hand. “What do you want to know?”

“Firstly,” and the mask changed in a flash to a rather angry expression, “how did you get in here?”

Codec shrugged. “This place likes me. It just lets me in. I hardly even have to think about it.”

Hex’s face brightened. “Oh. Well that’s okay. I trust my lair. It chooses its master‘s wisely.” She just smiled for a moment then continued; “And your heritage - tell me about that.”

He felt his brow knot. “My heritage?”

“Yes. Who created you?”

Codec sat back and drew a knee up to his chest. “That’s a bit of a blunt way of putting it.”

Her mask transformed to one of irritation, her eyes gleaming red. “And you’re very prudish and well-spoken for such a young ‘sprite’!” she hissed. “I see my brother in you. Why do I see my brother in you?”

“He’s my father.”

The face suddenly shifted to an expression of wary curiosity, with an indubitable air of cold uncertainty hovering about it. “Your father?” she asked. “Megabyte?”

Codec shrugged. “So I’m told.”

“Then your mother is a sprite?”

“Yes. Dot Matrix.”

Hex burst out into fit of laughter. “Oh, how glorious! What kind of fool has my dear brother become? Does he read you bedtime stories and tuck you in at night as well?”

Codec scowled at her as she continued to guffaw like there was no tomorrow. “Don’t be basic. I’m not even allowed to see him.”

“Really?” she asked, the mask briefly changing to one of feigned sorrow. “How sad.”

Codec leapt off his seat again and gave her a dark glare. “I don’t need this,” he growled.

“But wait, young nephew, don’t go.”

Codec shuddered to a halt - the word ‘nephew’ sounded so terrible when it came from such an insensitive source. “What?”

“Maybe you can help me?”

“Help you?” he scoffed, turning on her with glowing eyes. “Help you? You’ve just given me good reason not to help you, don’t you think?”

The sad face emerged again. “But we were bonding so well…”

“Look, I don’t wanna try and understand how you got inside your own looking glass, or how you’ve come back… I just wanna get out of here.”

“Couldn’t you just get a message to your daddy?”

Codec felt his lip turn up. “No, I couldn’t get a message to my father.”

“Pity,” Hex said, the face becoming arrogant. “I thought a son of my brother’s would have more courage and initiative than that.”

“I’ve got nothing more to say to you, aunty. Good day.”

But as he walked off again, Hex’s voice came back at him from the gloom once more. “Couldn’t you just let Megabyte know I’m here? It would give you an excuse to see him, now, wouldn‘t it? I know you want to.”

And Codec froze. He stared away into space for some time before he conceded defeat, giving Hex one final backward glance and sighing, “All right.”

She was right, after all… he did want to see his father again.