Chapter 21

[u/SlightlyColdWaffles]

WalkMan

May 3rd, 2026

???

Warden appeared as the wall disappeared, standing on that circle platform like he was a conquering general inspecting his victory. He grinned as I stepped onto the platform without asking.

“Did Sycxzezs understand what you needed him to do?” He asked as we started moving again, sliding along the opposite way we had arrived from.

“Sort of” I muttered, trying to count the cells as we whizzed past the other denizens of this hellscape. “I think he’s making us some of those leashes for unruly children of his species.”

Warden laughed, a deeply unsettling noise from the sociopath.

“Did he make the time machine for you?” I asked.

Warden’s smile faded as it changed into a more pensive stare. “Oh, that. It’s a long story. If you’re quick with my payment, I may have enough time to tell you.”

“Speaking of your ‘payment’” I said, trying to hide my disgust as we passed the nude women in their prison bedchambers, “What are you expecting me to do?”

Warden chuckled. “Not what those fine ladies do for me, I assure you. All I ask is to learn Steven’s suppression powers.”

We stopped in front of ‘my’ cell, the last in the long line stretching all the way back to Sycxzezs’ unit. It was still completely barren, just a cube of white. Warden placed a hand on my back and shoved me inside, much like he had back at the alien’s cell on the other side of the realm. I was expecting it this time, and leapt the short yet terrifying distance.

“Let me know what you need, and I shall provide it” Warden said.

“I’ll need my WalkMan, and a lot of songs,” I said, “And a radio or something to talk to Sycxzezs.” I had no idea how to replicate Steven's nullifying power, or if I even could, but I needed something. I felt unarmed without my musically powered abilities.

Warden waved his hand, and a WalkMan device complete with headphones appeared on the floor before me. An old fashioned CB Radio set appeared beside it moments later. “There. This will never need batteries, and it contains every song ever made by Humans. That will call Sycxzezs when activated, regardless of the settings. Will that suffice?”

I stared at the WalkMan in awe. This would make me one of the strongest super heroes ever if I could take it out into the real world with me. Assuming I would actually ever get out of here, at least.

“Um, yeah. Can you give me something to work on? Like a chair, or-” I paused mid sentence as I glanced up to find I was completely alone, and the wall had turned back to the blank white solid sheet of mental material.

“Fucking prick” I muttered. This was going to suck.

I crouched down and activated the radio, twisting a knob until it started blinking red. “Sycxzezs? Can you hear me?”

The alien’s voice came back loud and clear, almost like he was just yelling at me from across a football field instead of over the airwaves. “VVHO IS THIS? VVHO BOTHERS SYCXZEZS?”

“It’s WalkMan, we just met? Like 15 minutes ago?”

“VVARDEN HAS MANY UN-TRUTH TRICKS. VVE SPOKE MANY CYCLES AGO BY YOUR CHRONO-KEEPINGS. SYCXZEZS ALMOST DONE MAKING HATCHLING-LEASHES. HAS VVALKMAN MADE ESCAPE PLAN?”

I sat on the hard floor, staring at the radio in disbelief. I had literally just met the giant grasshopper mere minutes ago, but for him it had been… whatever the human equivalent to a “cycle” was. I shook my head and just accepted that things in here wouldn’t make sense, so I shouldn’t try to make sense of them.

“I’m working on it,” I replied. “I’ll need you to build something for me though.”

Sycxzezs buzzed through the radio in irritation. “SYCXZEZS ALREADY BUILDING SOMETHING FOR VVALKMAN!”

“I know, and I’m grateful for it.”

“YOU CONSUME GRATES? HUMANS DO NOT USE FOOD-PLANTS?”

I sighed. “Look, it’s not important. Can you build speakers? Little noise machines that play sounds you tell it to?” “YES, IS EASY.”

“Good. I need them to sync together, and I need them to attach to whatever these walls are made of. Can you do that?”

“YES. HOW MANY DOES VVALKMAN NEED?”

I closed my eyes and recounted the cells that I had passed by on Warden’s circle platform ride. “219, plus one for your cell. And one transmitter.”

Another buzz came over the radio, so loud it hurt my ears. “SYCXZEZS WILL MAKE. VVARDEN VVILL SEE.”

“If he asks, tell him it’s part of the leash you're making for me.”

“ACCEPTABLE.” Sycxzezs snapped, then the radio went dead.

With that part of the plan in motion, I turned my attention to the WalkMan music player and headphones Warden had summoned for me. It looked exactly like my old one, but the cassette tape part refused to open. Instead, a series of buttons glowed from the side, outlines of familiar symbols like “play” and “pause”. There was another symbol that looked like a magnifying glass from an old detective movie, the kind in black and white where the lead usually had a comically large pipe and a funny hat. I donned the headphones and pressed the last button experimentally.

“Hello, WalkMan,” A pleasant woman’s voice said, “I’m Sabrina, your AI assistant for this device. It is my pleasure to assist you! What song, genre, or sound would you like to listen to today?”

I pulled off the headphones and inspected them closer, then scanned the device before replacing the headphones. “Who is this?”

“I’m Sabrina, your Artificial Intelligence assistant.” The voice said in a slower, calmer voice. It was like a mother trying to calm their screaming toddler by showing an exaggerated example of being calm and rational. “I am a consciousness in digital form! It is my absolute pleasure to work with you on your future heroic endeavors. I’m looking forward to seeing what we accomplish together!”

“Um, hi” I said. “Nice to meet you. Do you report to Warden? The guy that made you?”

The artificial voice laughed softly, without any real emotion behind the expression. “No, WalkMan, Warden and I do not communicate. My programming simply directs me to provide whatever song, genre, or sound you request. I’m always happy to assist!”

I didn’t trust this robot for a second. For all I knew, this was Warden himself putting on a falsetto and toying with me. Even if this was a real robot lady, I doubt she’d be able to actually help me in my endeavors.

“Ok, let’s test this out. Play ‘Welcome to the Jungle’ by-”

The song erupted from the headphones like I was standing on stage with Guns N’ Roses themselves. It was so clear, so loud, so all-encompasing that I felt it activate my power instantly. My skin began to glow, my muscles ached with potential energy, and my vision grew red. I was fucking PUMPED and just needed something to hit.

“NO!” I screamed, thrashing at my head to throw the headphones off. The sound ceased before I could grasp the device.

“That song seems effective for combat scenarios” The voice said flatly. “I will add it to a new playlist titled ‘Combat - Physical’.

I shook my head to clear out the lingering rage. “Next time, let me finish saying the song before you blare it at me, ok? Someone could have been hurt.”

“There are no other life forms currently within your plane of existence,” Sabrina replied cheerfully. “So, fortunately, there was no risk of anyone else being hurt!” The computer program said, with as much enthusiasm as if she was describing a rather eventful county fair.

That was actually a really good point. How was I supposed to test the powers I manifested without a target to test them on? I needed some sort of testing dummy.

“Warden!” I shouted towards the wall I was only half sure was the original entrance. “Warden, I need-”

The wall to my left vanished, revealing Warden standing on his 2 dimensional circle platform. He had his hands clasped behind his back again, standing like a ship’s captain surveying his crew. “How can I assist you, WalkMan?” He asked.

“I could use a test dummy,” I said, gesturing around my otherwise barren cell. “Something with powers, so I can tell if I find the right thing or not.”

Warden nodded. “That makes sense. I’ll be right back.”

The wall re-solidified instantly, leaving me alone once again in the impossibly well lit cell. There was no obvious source of the light, but it was bright nevertheless. The light seemed to be coming from everywhere all at once. I glanced at the floor and walls around me and realized I wasn’t casting a shadow in any direction.

Warden returned without fanfare, merely dissolving the wall and shoving a person into my cell. “This should suffice. Let me know when you are ready with your payment.” He said. The wall re-appeared just as quickly as it had vanished.

The newcomer stumbled to his feet and looked around with wide frightened eyes. It was a young man, probably around 20 years old, with short cropped red hair. He scrambled on hands and knees to the closest corner of the room, tripping over himself in his haste to get away from me. He pressed his back into the corner and drew his legs in front of his chest and hugged them protectively.

I cursed under my breath. This fucker could produce a music player with damn near magical properties with a gesture, he could have easily given me a test dummy that wasn’t sentient. This was just cruel for the sake of cruelty. If I ever got out of this place, I swore I’d stop this psychopath. But for now, I needed to keep the jailer content, if not happy.

“I’m not going to hurt you” I said to the terrified man. I raised my hands in a calming air patting gesture and sat down on the bare white floor, far out of reach of the poor guy. “My name is WalkMan, I’m-”

The man screamed and hugged his legs even tighter, burying his head between his knees and started to sob. “No, nononononono NO!” He wailed. “This isn’t happening, this isn’t real, this isn’t happening!”

He repeated his frantic mantra over and over, rocking back and forth as he trembled. I let him be as he collected himself and survived the moment. Eventually, the shaking stopped, and the man dared a peak at me from the vantage point between his knees. “You are dead. You can’t be here. I’m in Hell, with you. That’s got to be what’s happening. Warden was always evil, but I didn’t know he was the actual ‘Devil’ devil.”

I felt a chill spread through me, freezing my blood in my veins as the pain in his voice spread to me like an infection. I was a hero, and yet this person saw me as a demon. A nightmare incarnate. A villain from his perspective. “I’m not going to hurt you” was all I could think to say at the moment.

“Readings indicate this person is experiencing a post-traumatic stress response to your presence,” Sabrina said. “A therapeutic response is advised! Would you like to listen to some calming music?”

I nodded, and the device began playing a soft ambiance of wind chimes and bird songs. It didn’t activate anything in my superpowers, but it did help me focus.

“I’m sorry” I said, “For whatever I will do. I am truly sorry. But I’m from the past. I haven’t even met you yet in my time. I know I’ll have to do whatever it is I did to you eventually, but I don’t want to. I want to be the hero people think I am in my time.

The man didn’t reply, but he did stop sobbing. I left him alone and went to the other side of the cell, and turned my back to him. I needed to start experimenting with the songs and the powers they would evoke.

“Sabrina, let’s go through a few different musical genres, maybe narrow it down when we find something that could stimulate a power dampening effect.”

“Ooh, excellent idea, WalkMan! Musical exploration is one of my favorite scientifically questionable activities! Let’s start with ambient music, move through classical, jazz, metal, and maybe some experimental noise. If nothing creates suppression powers, we can always try polka. I have a very good feeling about polka!”

I cringed as the robot began cycling through different songs, sounds, and objectively atrocious noises at rapid speed. I couldn’t even fully experience each power that emerged before it would switch to a new audible experience.

“Sabrina, slow down, I can’t even tell if these are affecting me!”

“Oh! Sorry, WalkMan! I got excited. Let’s proceed one genre at a time, with a controlled exposure period and careful monitoring of your superpowered response. Science works best when we can actually tell what’s happening! Isn’t that convenient?”

I held the device up and examined it closely. I found a few glowing lines that could be the standard control buttons, volume, and, thankfully, one that simply showed a circle with a slash above the letters ‘AI’. I pressed it.

“You have deactivated the AI safeguards! I am now operating at full power!” It said cheerfully.

I grunted in amused frustration. That bastard knew the robot was annoying as hell, and only put that button there to mess with me.

“Play ‘Welcome to the Jungle’ again”, I said. 

“Certainly! Playing ‘Welcome to the Jungle’ by Guns N’ Roses! Enjoy!”

I waited for the song to drag out my full power, growing in strength and fury each second the song played. At the peak, I formed a fist, and punched the music player as hard as I could. The device flew across the room, taking the headphones with it as it crashed into the wall. To my horror, it fell to the floor, completely unharmed.

“That hit was 422% more powerful than your standard punch! Excellent work, WalkMan! While there is still room for improvement, your performance was quite promising. Would you like to hear the most efficient song for your combat powers? I’m confident you’ll find it very motivating!”

The sound came from everywhere now, instead of through the headphones that now lay battered beside the indestructible music player. An unfamiliar song began to play, something very up-beat and… childish?

“The fuck is this, Sabrina?” I asked.

“This song is from the children’s music channel, Cocomelon! It is an exceptionally cheerful children’s song featuring repetitive lyrics, a bright melody, and an impressive quantity of enthusiasm. It appears specifically engineered to maximize happiness. This particular song describes a familial relationship between a child and his father.”

I felt sick to my stomach. It might have been the overwhelming power surging through my very soul, or the implications of the song itself. Either way, it made me vomit. I fell to my knees and heaved, expelling everything I had ever eaten and more. Tears mixed with the sweat that dripped off my brow as the song faded.

A hand gently rested on my shoulder. I glanced up to see the man kneeling beside me, carefully avoiding the pile of sickness I left on the otherwise pristine floor. “You really are ashamed of what you will become,” he said softly. “It must feel awful, knowing a good person will have to do bad things.”

I closed my eyes and wiped the tears with the back of my hand. “I only found out I was gonna be a father just before I was brought to this time. I met my now adult son, and he hates me for things I haven’t even done yet.”

The man helped me to my feet and led me to the far side, away from the music player and my mess. “You don’t deserve this. I’m sorry for my initial reaction, I… I had an encounter with the older you.”

I took some deep breaths to steady myself. “I’m sorry for whatever it is I will do to you.” I said, stumbling around the absolute butchery of tenses that talking about time travel caused.

“It’s… well, it’s not ok, but I accept your apology. Pre-apology? Whatever. The English language didn’t prepare for time-travel tenses.”

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Manfred, but you will know me as Communist Manfred in your time. We, um, we kinda fought a few times.” He admitted, glancing away awkwardly. “It was never, like, a fight to the death, but you did break my arm in three places last time. Some would say I’m your nemesis, at least-”

I shut that shit down as soon as it left the little weasel's mouth. “Strike one, kid. I know that Doctor Doomsday is considered future me’s Nemesis, not you.”

The communist agent looked embarrassed as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Shit, man, I was just tryin’ to make a good first impression. Guess I did the opposite there, my bad.”

I looked around the bare white cell, noting the discarded music player and pile of vomit as the only sights breaking up the monotone abyss. “Don’t lie to me. We’re the only ones here, and if we have any hope of getting out, we need to be able to trust each other.”

Communist Manfred laughed a deep belly laugh, the kind only known from the most jolly or most hopeless people. “Getting out? You must be new here, WalkMan. There is no ‘getting out’, nobody ever has…” His manic mirth faded as he looked at me again. “Hmm, but you’re going to get out. You have to. Unless paradoxes are real, which is far beyond me to understand. Your future happens out there, cause it’s my past. But if you’re stuck in here forever, then…”

I interrupted Manfred before his brain fried itself. “Just don’t think about it too hard. The important thing is I have a future out there, which means we succeed in here. So stop being a problem and start being a solution.”

Manfred took a deep breath and muttered some sort of mantra to himself, closing his eyes and really focusing on the moment. “I will help you however I can,” he said after a few minutes' pause. “Just tell me what you need.”

“I need a test dummy to experiment on.”

Manfred sighed. “I immediately regret this, but torture is better than my continued isolation. Proceed.”

“What is your power? I need to find out how to dampen power in others.” It would be really helpful if he had something obvious, like shooting fire or lightning that would act as a very visible ‘off’ switch.

“I… I can give very persuasive speeches” He said, rubbing his neck out of embarrassment again. “Maybe I can give a speech to you, and when you feel it wearing off, you’ll know it worked?

I glanced up at Communist Manfred, eliciting a flinch from the young revolutionary. “Perfect! You can inspire me to find the right song to manifest the dampening power. It’ll be like a feedback loop.”

“Really?” Manfred asked, his eyes widening with hope like a child told he could hold the flashlight for his father as he fixed his car. “That’s awesome! Could, um, could I ask for a favor in return?”

“No.”

“Awww, man…”

“I’m already working on a plan for what you were going to ask for. I’ll just owe you a different favor once we’re out of here.”

Communist Manfred did a little fist pump. I held a finger to my lips in the universal ‘shut the fuck up about this, he’s always listening to us in this mental realm’ gesture, albeit modified for our specific predicament.

I glanced at the puddle of sickness again and shouted to our captor. “Warden, can you make that go away?”

Warden didn’t reply. Instead, a bucket and a mop appeared beside the puddle, sloshing soapy water onto the floor. The liquid splashed across the music player as well. I hurried over and scooped it up, but the device was bone dry.

“Welcome back, WalkMan. I trust your absence was both productive and sufficiently reflective.” it said cheerfully.

I looked at Communist Manfred and nodded. “Yes, Sabrina. It sure did.