In the warm glow of Telegrammy's digital cottage, nestled in the archive realm's ancient code, Brush D. Rush gripped his paintbrush, its soul-corruption fusion pulsing like a heartbeat. The walls flickered with telegram-like streams, shielding them from the DeadNet's decay and Rooteye's distant roars. Willie Widow White, Disco, and the virus rebels—Pirware's jagged shards, Malrus's malware threads, Poro's rolling sphere, and Hubo's spinning gears—rested nearby, planning their assault on Agent Privacy's base. Brush's near-death from blood loss lingered, but Telegrammy's promise to master his corruption fueled his resolve.
The old man, his pixelated robes shimmering, stood before a training grid—a virtual arena of shifting data streams. "Your brush," Telegrammy said, his wireframe spectacles glinting, "is no mere tool. It's a TOOL, like the agents' rings and blades—ancient code forged to shape chaos. Yours is bound to your soul, but Glitch's corruption makes it wild."
Brush's deaf ears relied on the brush's vibrations to parse Telegrammy's words. "How do I control it?" he asked, swiping the brush to paint a chaotic line that sparked uncontrollably.
"Focus your soul, not just the corruption," Telegrammy instructed, guiding Brush's hand to steady the line into a smooth arc. "Now, try something new—channel the corruption beyond the brush, into your body." He gestured to Brush's fist, his binary beard twitching. "Corrupt your hand, like the agents wield their TOOLS."
Brush closed his eyes, feeling the brush's pulse sync with his soul. He focused the corruption energy, letting it flow into his fist. His hand glowed with glitched chaos, crackling with dark sparks. Telegrammy nodded. "Now, strike!" Brush punched the air, unleashing a high shockwave of corrupted energy that shattered a nearby data stream, its fragments raining like digital ash.
"Whoa," Brush breathed, the vibrations teaching him the shockwave's raw power. Telegrammy grinned. "That's your edge against Privacy's strength." They trained for hours, Brush painting focused cannons and blades while mastering his corrupted fist. Each shockwave grew stronger, shaking the arena, but his soul kept the corruption in check, preventing Glitch's influence from overtaking him.
Willie entered, her titanium frame gleaming. "The rebels are ready," she said, eyeing Brush's glowing fist. "That'll crack Privacy's orb." Disco's shades sparkled. "Vibe's strong, Brushy!" Pirware, Malrus, Poro, and Hubo nodded, their glitched forms buzzing with anticipation.
Outside, Rooteye's crimson eye loomed through a fractured node, its roots inching closer. Brush's brush and fist pulsed as one, his TOOL now a weapon of soul and chaos. "Let's free your kin," he told the rebels, ready to face Privacy's base with his newfound power