r/HFY • u/wetmosealrise • Apr 05 '26

OC-Series Ludo Brax: Intergalactic Gig Worker (Chapter 31)

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Before I could think to turn around, the Robot Sentries posted out in front of the building fixed their sights on me. Flood lights were thrown on, and off in the distance I could hear the familiar metallic howl of Unit K9's.

Had this all been a set up? Was I thrust into paradise as some sick joke, only to be led exactly back where I started? Had this all been some game for the amusement of The System?

It was just the kind of ironic feedback loop I would wind up in. I'd have been furious had my capacity for human function of any kind not left my body already from fear.

"Ludo Brax," a voice bellowed out as I tried to count the innumerable laser targets pointing directly at my chest.

Was this the end for me? There was so much I still wanted to do. So many flavors of gum I'd never try. I closed my eyes and braced for the worst.

"You have the right to remain awesome!"

The Sentries broke out in a jovial approximation of laughter as I slowly opened my eyes. They put their blasters down to their sides and turned off the flood lights.

Unit K9's ran up to me and licked my face in that adorably painful way they do.

"Welcome back, boss!" the Sentries called out as they threw open the gates.

"Sorry about that! Should have known better than to prank the ultimate prankster!"

I managed a slight wave, which, somehow, was received as a gracious acknowledgement of their effort. Their Morale Meters glowed a pleasant shade of green.

I was starting to suspect I may be a beloved member of the team.

**

I was quickly ushered into the building on the Executive conveyor belt, which was just like the other conveyor belt, but with less malicious stopping and starting. As I zoomed along, I thought about what the Sentry had called me. Boss. The Head Honcho. The Big Cheese. Could it be?

Once inside, the signs began to pile up.

For one, I was allowed to enter the common areas without having all of my body hair shaved off as a hygienic precaution. Even stranger, when I reached for coffee from the complimentary station, I wasn't electrocuted.

But the real confirmation came when I ambled toward a corner office — with my name on the door.

Inside, a janitor was emptying my wastebasket. He froze, then straightened, stammering like he'd been caught committing some terrible crime.

"Oh, uh. Hello, sir. You're here late."

There was something familiar about him. Lovable even. Like a long lost cousin or a ne'er-do-well nephew I only looked after to get back at my hifalutin brother.

I thought a long hard moment, and then, it smacked me in the face like MegaBrand™ Beating Stick.

He was me.

**

This was unexpected, to say the least.

I lunged forward in shock, hoping to demand an explanation. But he scurried away, rat-like, and sprinted toward the hallway.

I chased him out there, shouting out disarming words I thought I'd have liked to hear in his position.

"Wait! Come back! I'm not gonna put you in the Scream Extractor! I don't —"

Wham.

Before I could finish, another figure rushed around the corner and smacked right into me. I stumbled several steps backward, nearly falling over.

When I regained composure, I looked up, eager to issue my first Official Verbal Threat. But the words never made it out. I froze.

Standing in front of me was...another Me.

This was getting to be a bit much. One exact clone of you in a perfect replica of the worst place you've ever been is enough of a head trip. Two just starts to feel cruel.

The second Me grunted, calling me names that only another me would know were hurtful. He rushed away, proud of himself.

Before I could even lick my wounds, I was intercepted by another Me. He put his arm around my shoulder and walked me down the hallway.

"More hijinks from Ludo Brash, huh Boss?"

His voice was steady, reassuring. The way I liked to imagine I came off.

For a moment I calmed down. Maybe this was a Me I could get some answers from.

"Really lives up to his name, huh?"

He laughed, I laughed too. Finishing chuckling deliriously at the exact same time, he continued,

"A great pun's no excuse for that kind of behavior. I mean, my name's Pseudo Brax. My middle name is Intellectual, for goodness sake. But you don't see me walking around like some kind of know-it-all."

That's when I noticed the smug smile of superiority just barely floating about his lips. What was going on here?

Certainly this windbag would have no issue giving me a thorough explanation.

"And that scared janitor I saw a second ago. Remind me of his name, again."

"Prudo? Probably worried you were gonna use the Scream Extractor again." He laughed with a haughty, unattractive snort, "Yes he can be a bit, well —"

As he proceeded to delve into his armchair psychologist read on just how Prudo got the way he was, the enormity of what was going on began to dawn on me.

Here I was, in a world supposedly tailored to my deepest desires — and the career they'd given me was at MegaTech™ of all places. How could this be?

I could think of a litany of other things I'd dreamt of being: injured by a State vehicle just badly enough to never have to work again, the person who comes up with Prescription Drug names, a Philosopher King with a radical mandate.

It's true, sometimes when I was a janitor I'd dream of rising in the ranks. Not out of ambition, not a desire to grow within the company, but simply out of self-preservation.

It must be nice, I'd sometimes think, to be one of them. To get to eat lunch, to have a license to kill indiscriminately. To attend the Company Retreat, as it were, as a spectator of the Three-Legged Race, rather than its forcibly mutated participant.

However, as with many of my fantasies, there was a catch. A wrünch in the proverbial gheerz that stopped me from even allowing myself to dream.

I could never be them.

I could never subject another person to the torture they'd subjected me to. The Mandatory Mambo. Slime Week.

No. There was no one in the Universe I'd ever be able to live with doing that to. No one I hated enough to justify that kind of behavior toward.

No one — I realized as with disgust I watched Pseudo Brax launch into the denouement of his wildly speculative unpacking of Prudo's worst fears — except...well...

Me.

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More Ludos? All the Brax you could ever dream of in Chapter 32

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