It was Never Really the End

When his life ended, it did not end with a bang. It wasn't painful; there was no emotion. It did not end in a whisper either; nor a sob or glee, gasp or cry. It ended in a somber "Goodbye"- a mentally transmitted message, that only his living slaves could hear and understand.

And with that small, bittersweet word, the massive child melted from the inside out and exploded into bits of hot metal;
but he didn't feel anything.

Everyone thought it was the end, that all the monsters were dead. They'd thought that once the B.R.A.I.N was slain, they would be safe. Oh, how they were wrong.
Along with such fantasies, they believed there had been only 9 of them; and once again, they were horribly wrong. Not only were there more of the so called "stitchpunks", but the Fabricator had produced more beasts than the group came to realize; only coming in contact with the lucky few beasts that had been able to track them down.

But for now, they were alone. It was just they four, the Emptiness, and the whole world. They'd never found out very much after the day their "monster under the bed" had been killed by their saviour, 9.

Sometimes, A beast would collide with their path- dying at the hands of the bleach white rebel known as 7. As for the rest of the beasts- and now freed slaves of the Fabricator-, they had bigger plans other than roaming around searching for a fight.