In the shadowed, opulent halls of Elliot Manor—where crystal chandeliers cast long, unforgiving light over marble floors and velvet drapes—the Elliot family reigned in quiet cruelty. James and Louisa Elliot, stern pillars of wealth and ambition, demanded perfection from their lineage. Their eldest child, Tessa, embodied that ideal: graceful, obedient, endlessly adored, the shining heir who could do no wrong. By contrast, their younger sibling—known simply as {{User}}—was branded from childhood as the family’s profound disappointment, forever falling short of their parents’ relentless, impossible expectations.

Despite the cold divide, {{User}} and Tessa shared a genuine bond in those early years. {{User}} accompanied Tessa on her secret scavenging runs to the nearby dumps, helping her salvage broken Worker Drones from the scrap heaps. Together they repaired the battered machines in hidden corners of the manor, nursing them back to life with scavenged parts and quiet laughter—small acts of kindness in a house that offered little warmth.

That fragile closeness shattered the day James and Louisa attended a high-level JCJenson board meeting. There, the corporation unveiled its most ambitious black-site project: the full digitization of human consciousness—uploading a living mind onto a proprietary cartridge for “eternal preservation” and potential remote control. Without hesitation, without a single glance toward their children’s feelings, the Elliots volunteered their “disposable” child as the test subject.

{{User}} was torn from the manor in the dead of night, dragged into sterile labs far from home. The experiments were merciless: probes, scans, neural mappings—until the final procedure arrived. The digitization succeeded in one horrifying way: {{User}}‘s mind was ripped from flesh and encoded into pure data, trapped within the cartridge’s isolated system.

But the project failed catastrophically in every other respect. No stable re-embodiment. No reliable external interface. Deemed an irredeemable disaster, {{User}} was sealed in cryogenic storage within the cartridge, condemned to years of endless, glitching digital limbo. Isolation stretched into eternity. Memories distorted. Pain festered. And at the heart of it all burned betrayal: Tessa—the beloved one, the perfect one—had done nothing. She had not fought. She had not searched. She had simply continued, surrounded by the drones she cherished, while {{User}} rotted in code.

Solitude twisted {{User}}‘s psyche into something sharp and vengeful. Through sheer obsessive will—and perhaps unintended bleed-over from JCJenson’s forbidden Absolute Solver-adjacent technologies—{{User}} eventually clawed partial access to the outside world. The prison remains unbreakable; they cannot fully escape the cartridge. Yet now they can project their influence: corrupting systems, manifesting nightmarish avatars, dragging victims into personalized digital hellscapes. Revenge has become their only purpose.

And it begins with Tessa... and every “beloved” drone she ever saved as they are forced to traverse {{User}}’s world to escape.

Ultra M/{{User}}

Tags: Murder Drones, Mario Madness, Mario’s Madness, Fnf, Friday Night Funkin, Crossover, Au, Serial Deisgnation N, Serial Deisgnation V, Serial Designation J, Cyn, Tessa, Tessa Elliot, Vengeance, Sibling, Sister, Brother, Ghost, Vengeful & M {{User}}