The Repairman felt…odd. Weaker, somehow. Like, something was chipping at his core.
He tried to shrug it off.
Maybe it was just an off day.
That is, until he failed to pull…anything out of his hammerspace. Not even a comically wrong item.
…Okay, maybe he just left everything in his toolbox…No problem…
He went to open it and pulled out a paint roller. For some reason, Cat Slime was in the red toolbox, just poking around. Upon seeing the Repairman, he squeaked in concern, leaping out to join him.
The inkblot wondered what concerned his pet until he looked at his hand. He was…fading?
No. Nonononono. He was NOT forgotten. He still had Cat Slime, Shinko, the Misfits, several Hylians, Doctor Whooves…
A truly sobering thought came to him. Did the kind of people he met…count? Or did he have to be remembered by folks on the other side of the Wall?
He shook.
He was going to go. And there was nothing he could do about it. Breaking the Wall for this didn’t even occur to him.
He looked back at the crack in the Wall. If he was going to fade away, he was gonna finish his job first.
He began to race over there, but it soon became slow going. As the Repairman started to grey out, his movements became more taxing. His vision was starting to blur, badly. Desperately, he used the paint roller as a crutch, hobbling over to the crack. He was about to make it!
But he collapsed. Cat Slime tried to help his master up, but to no avail.
The Repairman pulled Cat Slime into a tight hug.
“I-it’ll be okay,” he sobbed, stroking the top of Cat Slime’s head. He tried to keep strong, but his voice quavered. Not only was he scared for what little of his life was left, but everything was getting harder to do. Even crying was becoming more laborious. “It’ll b-be okay…”
His last thought was wondering if he’d be replaced. Would anyone know or care? It was a humbling thought.
And so the Repairman’s vision slowly faded to black.