Connor waited outside the back of the school, listening to the roaring chatter coming from the doorway. Despite school being closed apart from play rehearsal, which was about to end, it was still incredibly loud inside. He leaned back against the wall, pulling out his phone. Starting to mindlessly scroll through Instagram again, like he so often did to take his mind off things. The only person he was following was his sister, though.

He'd been flicking through some of the random junk that came up on his feed before he heard a voice from his side. Rich's. Connor shoved his phone into his jacket as he spoke.

"You have the money, then?" Rich asked, getting straight to the point.

A brief nod. "Only if you have it, though."

Rich produced a box from his back pocket with a grin, before fishing around in his bag. After a couple moments, he pulled out a bottle of fluorescent Mountain Dew. "You'll need to drink that afterwards. And don't chew it. You'll break it."

Connor wrinkled his nose. "Why the—"

"Trust me. It doesn't work without Mountain Dew," Rich assured him, handing over the bottle and the box.

Connor stared down at the objects clutched in his hands. The outside of the bottle was still cold, condensation clinging to the outside and making his fingers slip a little as he turned it over and over. There was nothing special about it, and it was unopened, so it was safe to assume it hadn't been tampered with.

He started to open the box with a thumb, pushing back the lid. Inside was the incredibly underwhelming sight of a plain grey pill. Around the same size as a TicTac, with a slit crossing its centre and the letters S Q U I P printed on the side, though that easily could have been drawn on by anyone.

Of course, he was skeptical — life-changing pills didn't just pop up out of nowhere, accompanied by a short, annoying asshole, and basically sell themselves to you for less that one thousand dollars. But just swallowing a badly disguised TicTac with some plain Mountain Dew wasn't going to hurt him.

Connor was about to take the pill from the box when Rich slammed the lid closed with his thumb and forefinger. "Money first."

Not completely concentrating, Connor pulled a small wedge of dollar bills (which weren't exactly his) from his pocket. Rich let go, starting to count up the cash eagerly.

Connor opened the box again, and removed the little grey object. It was smooth under his fingertips, and surprisingly warm.

Before he could think, in that brief split-second before his better judgement took over, he swallowed it. Dropped the box, kicked it away, and opened the green bottle. He'd gulped down around half of the brightly coloured drink before a sudden surge of pain flashed through his head.

"OW! What the fuck—!" Connor half-yelled, doubling over in agony. It was like his head was splitting in half, and he stumbled against a wall.

Target male inaccessible.

A strange, robotic voice seemed to surface, quiet yet overpowering the pained mutterings of Connor as he leaned against the wall. Rich didn't look worried at all — the expression on his face was completely blank, unfazed. He clearly couldn't hear a word of what was going on inside Connor's head.

Calibration in process, the voice spoke again. Please excuse some mild discomfort.

"You poisoned me, you fucking psychopath!" Connor shouted, managing to stand up straight enough to attempt to lunge at Rich. His aim was completely off, though, and the attempt was easily evaded.

Calibration complete. Access procedure initiated. The voice inside his head was toneless, expressionless, empty. Different — and eerie.

The discomfort died down, briefly, allowing Connor enough time to stand up and regain his bearings. His vision was fine, he could walk in a straight line; this fact he made full use of as he stormed forward towards Rich, who hadn't moved at all.

Discomfort level may increase, came the sudden warning, a moment before this was proved correct and another spasm of pain racked his body. He dropped down, nearly to his knees, biting the inside of his cheek so he didn't cry out. His eyes were watering, fists clenched tightly around his jacket and bracelets clicking as they almost fell off his wrists.

Accessing neural memory. Accessing muscle memory. Access procedure complete.

As suddenly as it had come, the pain was gone. Connor straightened up, not loosening his grip on the black fabric of his jacket.

"It worked, then?" Rich asked, the smallest trace of a smirk on his face.

Before Connor could speak again, the voice did it for him. It was slowly becoming a little more human, seeming to gain a little emotion now.

Connor Murphy, it announced, now identifiable as a fairly deep, slightly grating male voice. It still had a hint of a robotic, electric tone behind its words, but not as much as before. Welcome to your Super Quantum Unit Intel Processor.

Your SQUIP.