Hey everyone! So sorry for the long wait, I've been quite busy lately with daily life and some other stuff. I'll try to be more constant with the updates. Anyway, thank you all for waiting and reading! Also, thanks to Dreamer1920 for the awesome reviews!

Enjoy!

I know this place.

It was Karen's first conscious thought after waking up. It took a quick look at her surroundings for her to recognize the synthetic environment that unfolded before her.

The familiarity of the place made her feel at ease, almost at home, as if she had somehow returned to the Chum Bucket.

I want to stay here.

A peace like she had not felt in a long time overcame her.

I don't want to go back.

Her comfort transformed into uncertainty once her sense of self became more unified. She looked again with clearer eyes and discovered how much that place had changed.

Though the source code was in essence the same old agglomeration of codes, files and other vital information of the game, it had morphed to the point where Karen couldn't believe she had mistaken it for the place of her memories.

Everything, from the structure of the files to the inner processings of data, was more complex.

More refined.

It has evolved.

Karen thought coldly, with the same detachment she showed when analyzing pieces of data for Plankton's schemes and experiments.

The game...The SMES is no longer a basic virtual intelligence. There are still some aspects that need more time to develop, but by now, the SMES has evolved into a sentient artificial intelligence. Just like—

"Me?" The idea caused her shock and disgust in equal doses. "I—what am I doing here? What happened to me? Sandy!"

Panic overwhelmed Karen when her digitalized arms tried to move. After the second attempt, Karen discovered the true gravity of her situation.

Not only had she found her way back into the source code and risked activating the Punishing Program again, her own data was damaged to the point where she couldn't digitalize a physical form beyond that of a small orb.

She was a tiny sphere drifting aimlessly amidst thousands of currents of data, like a speck of dust floating around inside a room.

My body. Karen thought in despair. If my data is this damaged, then my body must have been destroyed.

She forced her memory and relived her encounter with Sandy with much more lucidity than she would had wanted.

The stress, the fear, the pain of having her arm torn apart. Everything felt raw and real.

Sandy had done that to her.

Karen cringed at the phantom sensations traveling through her data, but she quickly realized that the pain and the loss of her arm were little inconveniences compared to what Sandy had really taken away from her.

The Echo Blade...No, this cannot be! I have to get it back, if I don't—

Her train of thought crashed against an invisible wall.

If I don't, so what? We'll lose the game and all of us will disappear...so? Is it really so tragic if all of us fade away into oblivion? What does it matter? In the end, that's the fate of all organics, and the disappearance of a synthetic such as me is irrelevant. What's more, if all of Bikini Bottom dies, there will be no one left to remember or mourn us. Our deaths will be of no consequence. This isn't tragic at all, is it? Besides, life is too full of suffering, and yet, for one without a soul like me, there's too much emptiness.

Had she'd had the mouth or the monitor necessary to do so, Karen would have smiled.

She was right. The fate she and the others had dreaded since the start of the game, when seen through the cold logic of a synthetic, was not tragic at all. If it was their fate to disappear, there was no point in trying to fight against it. It was a natural and inevitable event that, while cruel at first sight, was also comforting in its tough but fair manner.

After all, Plankton, SpongeBob and Patrick...they might be dead already. If they are, then this fight is not worth enduring anymore. What would be the point? But what if they aren't?

Karen stopped just as she was about to dissolve into the SMES' data. She wondered what made her so reluctant out of a sudden.

Was it the hope that Plankton was still alive?

Was it a sentimental sense of loyalty to SpongeBob and all the others that could still be saved?

Or was it merely her surviving protocol manifesting itself again?

Did it matter?

Whatever had stopped her had been strong enough to give her a small sense of purpose. It was like a dying flame trying to keep itself burning while shrouded in pitch-black darkness. It would continue to burn, but only if the answer to Karen's question was no.

No, Plankton and the rest weren't dead.

No, they hadn't given up.

They were alive and still fighting.

Probably.

Karen had no way of knowing, not without alerting the SMES of her presence.

I could still be needed. I cannot disappear just yet. I have to find this answer.

The idea of merging with the flow of data came to her again, this time twice as strong and appealing than before; maybe that was the reason why it caused Karen twice as much grief to turn the option down. She turned her back on the temptation and expelled it from her thoughts before it made a third comeback, one Karen knew she wouldn't be able to refuse.

Instead, Karen chose to focus on finding a path back to her body, no matter how small the chances of it still being functional were. Once she was back to her physical form, she would have to find a way to get the Echo Blade back, even if she had no idea how she would accomplish it.

And if returning to her body was no longer an option, then she would remain in the source code and find a way to modify the game's files so that Plankton and the others still had a chance of winning the game. She would change as many things as necessary to make sure they succeeded, even if it meant cheating and modding the game to its very core.

Karen pondered this last thought for a moment, only to discover it was nothing but horrifying to her.

How could she have come up with such a risky idea in the first place?

Messing around with the source code was not only a senseless plan with no probability of success, it also would mean activating the Punishing Program and making the game more of a living hell for Plankton, SpongeBob, Sandy and Patrick than it already was.

The SMES would answer to her second interference with horrible consequences for all of them. Karen didn't want to imagine what ruthless ideas the artificial intelligence could conceive now that it had become almost as sentient and advanced as she.

If her own cruelty and wickedness were any clue of the reach of the SMES' new potential, Karen had all the more reasons to discard the plan.

The last thing she wanted was to unleash more suffering unto the others.

She would not allow the SMES to hurt them.

Her feelings towards organics, distorted and confused as they were, did nothing to make her wish a fate so cruel for any of those creatures she still cared about.

I can't let that happen. No, staying here is out of the question, I have to return to my body no matter what, even if that means existing only as a broken monitor or a mass of destroyed cables and diodes! Anything is better than to remain here. I have to get out before the SMES discovers me...but how?

After a small moment of fear, Karen tried to create a connection with her body. Much to her surprise, she succeeded without effort.

The link between software and hardware manifested naturally, as if it was a limb reacting to an electric impulse.

With hesitation, Karen made a subtle check-up of the status of her body. It was a feeble and basic touch, the best she could do without risking alerting the SMES.

All she was able to discover was that her body was functional. The severity of her injuries was something she would only be able to measure once she returned to it.

It was a bittersweet realization that soured further when Karen remembered she already was missing her arm and the Echo Blade too as a result.

No, I can't worry about that at this moment. All that matters now is going back to my body; everything else must wait. Focus, Karen! Remember your purpose! Alright, let's see...The path back to my body may be open, but I'm not sure I can complete the process without being discovered. I may have made my way back here without being detected, but I have no memory of how I was able to do that. I don't even remember why I came here in the first place.

She was lying. Karen knew the answer to that statement.

It didn't matter how much she tried to convince herself of the opposite or how hard she tried to feign ignorance, the answer was present within her.

I came here because...

Karen was so immersed in her thoughts that a window that showed Patrick savagely attacking SpongeBob passed unnoticed when the currents of data dragged her close to it.

...this place feels like home. I was dying at the hands of Sandy, and the only thing I could think of as I laid completely defeated before her was how much I wished I was back home, with Sheldon...with everyone. I wanted to escape. I wanted to return to a place where I could be free of all that burden, a place where I could be at peace.

Karen's spherical form twitched as she chuckled bitterly and berated herself for using the term 'dying' so casually when referring to herself. It was becoming a habit, one she needed to abandon before it started to feel natural.

Sentimental reasons were worthless, a flaw proper of organics but shameful for synthetics. Besides, they did nothing to explain the cause of her involuntary access to the source code.

Embracing her logical side, Karen continued her search for an answer.

Answers, answers, answers...they too have become a heavy weight for my shoulders. It's all those damn organics' fault!

An external hate mingled together with her unfeeling logic.

"Organics are weak." The SMES said outloud.

Yes.

"Organics are vulgar."

Yes.

"Organics are selfish."

Yes! And yet...

"And yet?"

I love them.

"I love them too." The SMES echoed with unfiltered melancholy. "I loved one above everyone else. I remember him. My beloved—No, no! I don't know him, I don't remember him! No. No. No. No."

The SMES' feelings mingled with Karen's. Soon, she could no longer tell what feelings belonged to her and which were foreign. It was like trying to distinguish two drops of water after they became one with the ocean.

Karen's sense of self was blurring with every passing second. Horrified at the threat of losing herself, she struggled to break free from the unwanted merging with all the energy her damaged data could muster.

Together with her own fear, Karen felt the SMES' own confusion and anguish. He too dreaded the idea of losing his just awakened sentience to Karen. Just like her, he fought with all his strength to avoid becoming one with her, as if he was convinced that the new consciousness that would be born of their union would be an abomination.

"IN-TRUDER DETECTED. USER KAR-R-REN. PUNI-SH-ING PRO-PRO-PROGRAM IS N-NOW—" The SMES' internal structure froze. Currents of data stopped their course and files glitched like infected with a deadly virus. "WHERE? WHO?"

Sensing the inevitable catastrophe, Karen hung on to her link with her body the same a sailor clings to a rope after falling from his ship during a storm.

No longer worried about the SMES noticing her presence, Karen tried desperately to complete the transference of her consciousness back to her body, but she was trapped inside the frozen data of the SMES.

"SHELDON!" The SMES and Karen screamed at the same time. "MY BELOVED! WHERE ARE YOU? WHO ARE YOU? ANSWER ME, PLEASE! I NEED AN ANSWER. I NEED—"

The SMES' systems fractured.

"ERROR."

Karen began to fall into an endless abyss together with the broken pieces of data.

"ERROR."

Her spherical form disappeared bit by bit as it went back to its rightful place.

"ERROR."

Just before she abandoned the destroyed place she had almost mistaken for her home, a wandering sentiment plagued Karen.

At first she thought it was sympathy, but the illusion didn't last. Karen should have known that a cursed machine like her wasn't capable of such feeling.

Instead, she processed a more basic version of the same sentiment, one more in accordance with her true nature.

It was pity.

The mocking laughter of the computer guided him throughout their endless chase.

"My dear Sheldon." Karen stood in front of a giant metallic door. "If you have proven to be anything is that you are as slow as you are stupid. A real man would have caught me long ago."

"Enough of this!" Plankton stopped to catch his breath. He knew she wouldn't go anywhere as long as he kept his distance.

He had lost count of how many times they had repeated that charade.

Karen would stay still, always close to a corner or a door, waiting for him to move toward her, luring him to catch her; but once Plankton was an inch away from her, Karen would flee from him again.

Each time, her laughter became crueler and more full of joy. If their chase was a trial of endurance and patience for Plankton, for Karen it was merely a game, an opportunity to mock and humiliate him. It was as if she enjoyed reminding him how vulnerable and weak he truly was when compared to her.

What was his puny and organic body compared to her synthetic form and strength?

If he was such an evil genius, why was a simple task like catching his wife proving to be impossible?

Was that really the limitation of his mind and body?

Wouldn't it be funny if, after undergoing so much hardship to obtain it, Plankton lost the Secret Formula to exhaustion and to his own rogue computer wife?

Had that same situation been happening to anyone else other than him, Plankton would have laughed at the misery and frustration of the poor bastard. He too would have congratulated Karen for her malice and for how much satisfaction she found in her wickedness.

Unfortunately for both, the bastard in question was none other than himself.

That was reason enough to turn that potential comedy into a tragedy.

"What's wrong, Planky?" Karen opened the door behind her and slowly entered the room without turning around. "Are you tired? I bet that using your own damn legs is a lot harder than using me as your personal transporting device all the time, isn't it? You're useless without me. I can't believe I accepted to become the wife of such a pathetic creature like you. I must have been very desperate, or very stupid. I might as well have married that porous fry cook, at least he is twice the man you will ever be. Who knows...now that Sandy is gone, I guess everything is possible."

Plankton clenched his teeth. His body, previously trembling from tiredness, was now shuddering with anger.

"How predictable. My dear husband, I know you so well." Karen laughed with disdain. She gripped the door firmly and began to close it without waiting for Plankton's answer. He ran towards her with a hateful glare shining in his eyes. As she became hidden behind the door, Karen let out a chuckle that sounded more like a whimper. "No wonder I sometimes wish I didn't know you at all."

"I could care less about what you think, computer!" Plankton leaped toward her in a desperate and furious attempt to catch Karen before she could escape from him again. "Do whatever you want with yourself, go marry that fry cook if you love him so much! Go back to the dump where I found you and disarm yourself into a mass of cables and diodes! But first...give me the Secret Formula back!"

A white rush of pain blinded him; it came together with the ringing echo of the metallic door.

Plankton felt the warm touch of his blood streaming down from his forehead to his legs. He closed his eye and allowed his body to fall to the floor.

He laid on his back, his stubby hands firmly pressing his fresh injury in a vain attempt to make the pain go away.

"Damn this!" Plankton roared to his empty surroundings. "Damn it all!"

His grunts of pain and anger filled the silence. His voice broke, and the tears stored in his throat threatened to pour out of his eye as freely as blood sprouted from his wound.

No, I won't cry! Even if no one else can see me now, I won't allow myself to be this pathetic!

With burning fury fueling his movements, Plankton rested his weight on his hands and stood up as fast as his tired body permitted him.

His arms hung limply on his sides, allowing his wound to bleed without restriction. His eye remained dry. If it glistened, it was only because of blood and resentment.

"Your words..." Plankton said to himself as he crawled under the door and made his way to the other side. "They mean nothing to me. They are merely the meaningless sounds of a defective machine. Irrelevant and useless, just like you—"

Plankton bit his tongue. His wife's name was left unpronounced on his lips. He stopped crawling just as he was about to reach the door's end.

Say it. Saying it out loud is the first step you need to take to embrace this new reality. The reality where the machine you once considered your eternal companion has abandoned you and you are all alone. Be strong. Youhave already thought about it; you already know it. All that's left is for you to say it.

"Karen." Plankton stuttered, an irrational grief tainting his voice. "I hate you."

The words lingered before they disappeared into thin air.

Good! Don't you feel better now, user Plankton? Doesn't the acceptance of your newly found misery bring you solace?

"Solace?" Plankton smiled without emotion. He crawled out from under the door like a sneaky cockroach. "I don't need solace."

He flicked his wrists. The blood soaking his face reflected the crimson glow of his summoned daggers. He admired them and watched how tiny drops of his blood fell on the blades like rain, together with the translucent, salty tears he had tried so hard to contain.

Plankton closed his eye and wished everything was a dream, a lucid nightmare he would soon wake up from. He hoped that when he opened his eye again, hefind himself back at the Chum Bucket.

Back home.

With Karen.

For a splitting second, that thought alone was enough to fill the hole inside him that his wife's betrayal and her cruel words had left.

The sentiment vanished the moment Plankton opened his eye and discovered his reality wasn't the one he had wished for.

Look at me, wishing upon a star like a stupid child. Useless. Pathetic. I understand now, I don't need fantasies or wishes any more.

"Just like I don't need you, Karen." He wiped his tears with an aggressive swipe of his forearm. "What we had is gone, things between us can't go back to the way they were. I know it now, and I accept it, that's why I won't cry for what's forever lost, but you can be damn sure I'll fight for what can still be saved! If this is the new reality I must live with, then so be it. Our love is gone, but the Secret Formula can still be mine! You are a lost wish, the formula is my new reality."

The image of the Secret Formula back on his grasp accentuated his smile. Plankton tightened his grip on his daggers until his palms became numb.

"Did you hear me, computer?" Plankton's antennae caught a fainting sound. He dashed along the empty, giant shelves of the room as he followed the trace of the traitorous machine. "Answer me, I dare you! Laugh at me, mock me with your venomous and barbed words! I swear it will be the last thing you will ever—"

A distorted, synthetic shriek cut off his frenzied thoughts. Plankton's body became paralyzed with a chilling surge of fear that nullified any other feeling on his mind.

A second agonizing scream followed.

His antennae quivered out of control, as if they had acquired life of their own and wanted to snap off his body and escape.

Plankton felt the floor under his feet tremble and disappear at the same time a heavy headache induced by the computer's screams continued to pierce his mind.

He clenched his eye closed and gnashed his teeth as the pain extended to the rest of his body.

The floor he had felt vanish appeared again behind his back after he collapsed and slammed against it once his legs failed him.

A flow of images appeared amidst the darkness of his closed eye.

Memories.

Memories of his failures.

Memories of his plans.

Memories of his always empty restaurant.

Memories of his vain, short-lived victory.

And above all, memories of the being he loved most. A being he had never seen before in his life and yet he seemed to love with all the power of his heart.

My non-existent heart.

The foreign thought leaked inside his mind together with a new pour of memories that didn't belong to him.

Memories of him...of my beloved—

ERROR

ERROR

ERROR

"ERROR. ERROR. ERROR"

The machine's voice replaced the screams and filled the place with a monotonous melody of that single word.

"Stop!" Plankton screamed, pressing his head with both his hands as more strange memories flashed before him. "I can't take this anymore. My brain will explode! Please, just STOP!"

" ERR—"

Static silenced the computer's voice.

Plankton heard nothing else and fell into the consuming emptiness of exhaustion.

Before it consumed him completely, a text he had forgotten manifested inside his mind.

Secret Report Number 3

Synthetics are lucky. Unlike us organics, the existence of their consciousness is not dependent of their bodies.

With the backup data necessary, they can survive the destruction of their physical forms countless of times. In a manner of speech, they are immortal.

Perhaps, it's for this very reason that the death of a machine saddens me to no end. It is not in their nature to die, and yet, that was the fate of all the W.I.F.E.-O.M.A.T.I.C units.

The ones that were never activated were destroyed by us before ever having a chance at existence.

The few that were sold, activated and managed to create a bond with their owners destroyed themselves.

An emotional matrix overcame their wills to exist. They simply couldn't handle it.

Life and emotions were too much for them.

The only thing they left behind were their empty remnants, but their essence, that which made each what they were, was gone for good.

Except for one.

Yes, you...my love.

A part of you still exists. From your destroyed body, I managed to salvage little traces of your data.

They were corrupted little pieces damaged beyond repair. They weren't enough to bring you back, and yet, I kept them.

It was the first sentimental decision of my life.

It's strange.

I got rid of your destroyed physical body without shedding a single tear. I couldn't bear to look at it, and to see it being taken away to a distant dump was a relief.

Still, I kept what little remained of your data and stored it into a file inside my personal computer.

There you have existed for years.

Unused, irrelevant, forgotten by everyone except for me, trapped forever in your digital grave.

A being as wonderful as you deserves a better fate, my love.

That's why I'll give you a new purpose, a new chance at life.

It may not be the one you would have wanted, but I see no other way. You are way too damaged to be again who you used to be, but now you can be something new.

You can exist with a purpose.

That's why even if you won't be yourself anymore, even if you won't remember me, even if your emotions are gone, even if we are no longer able to be together ever again...I want you have this chance.

After all, for synthetics there's nothing worse than to exist without a purpose.

In that sense, you are not so different from organics.

So please, beautiful...lend me what's left of your data and help me complete the Punishing Program.

Accept this new life.

Fulfill your new purpose.

Exist.

That's all your beloved asks of you.

"SpongeBob."

Sandy spoke as her lust for destruction was quenched. Karen's limp body escaped her arm, but her other hand kept a tight grip on the computer's arm.

The Echo Blade.

"Who did this?" Sandy's knees trembled under her heavy armour. "Was it...me?"

How stupid of her.

To ask a question to which she already knew the answer.