"Hey Sixer! I need to have a word with you!" Stan screamed at the floating pyramid. His fists clinched the brass knuckles. His heart beating fast, anger, grief, and heartbreak weighing heavily on the old thing.

The ground shook and a black smoke leaked out of the pyramid. It poured into a form hovering above Stan. Its limbs were made of the inky blackness while the torso looked like his brother. His face though, the one thing left they shared, was distorted. There was a swarm of yellow eyes buzzing around where the head should be.

"They're telling me to kill you, Stanley. Why would you risk showing your face?" Ford asked. But it didn't sound like Ford. The voice was as loud as thunder but as soft as a whisper.

Stan crossed his arms. "I won't talk to you like that. I want to see your face."

"I don't take orders from you." Ford said.

"If you're gonna kill me, I want you to kill me with your own face." Stan hissed.

Another rumble, and the feeling of the air thinning. The mist swirled to the ground and built its way up to construct a copy of Ford. It was gray and black except for the eyes. They were still yellow.

"Happy?"

"Very."

"What do you want?"

Stan glared at his brother and cracked his knuckles. "You're a traitor, Sixer. You betrayed your species, your dimension, your family. You've become this monster. For what? Your own self satisfaction?"

"I did this because I belong with them!" Ford yelled. "I've never fit in with this life! Never! I thought it was New Jersey! Then I thought it was you! Then, oh, I realized it was humanity. I was never fit to be a human. I did all this because it was meant to be. See, I had to lose my school and my work to become what I truly am! A god compared to you."

"What about your family? Your humanity? Did you think twice before you threw that away?! Or are we as disposable as your morals?!" Stan growled and charged at his brother, fist raised. He aimed to sock him right in the face.

But Ford raised a hand and Stan bounced back, falling the ground several feet away. "Stan haven't you realized I haven't been human for years?" Stan tried to get up but couldn't. Ford raised him up by the neck. "30 years jumping from dimension to dimension. Doing whatever it takes to survive. My sanity corroding with paranoia. The moment I was born with this damn sixth finger. I'd argue that I was never human."

"Y-You have ties," Stab gasped through the tight hold on his windpipe. "You have feelings. Emotions. Not towards me. But Dipper. You cared for him. Some part of you did!" he scratched at the invisible hands gripping him.

"Maybe my sliver of humanity did. But it all went away once I was freed of mortality and my human form." Ford squeezed at his brother's neck. "Maybe the man I was saw something in him. He would make a great demon."

"Dipper… is dead."

Stan was dropped to the ground.

"WHAT?!"

"Dipper is dead. Mabel is dead. Now it's you and me. The last pines and i want to finish it. One last-" Stan was thrown across the field.

"I NO LONGER BARE YOUR NAME, PINES." Ford yelled, his faces cracking, eyes escaping and tearing at his face.

"Oh you think so. You think Stanford pines isn't in there. But I know my brother. You're angry because he's gone. You're angry because you're angry."

Stan flew across the field again, hitting a shack, the only building for miles.

Ford's darkness seeped out of him, long black streams pooling out of his cracking composure.

Stan stood on his feet, his own anger driving him. "Come at me, Fordsy. Just you and me. Fist to face. Like that night in the basement."

The monochrome melted away from Ford, reds and browns creeping into his clothes. A fleshy pink returning to his completion. His fist was raised this time. It collided with Stan's face. Stan hit back, swinging in arms into his brother.

Ford started hitting. Stan's squishy body was no match against his supernatural strength. Ford couldn't help himself. He kept punching and punching, blood coating his fingers, until Stan's face was no longer visible.

"Good job, sixer." a voice called. Bill had floated down to watch. He was applauding Ford's work. "The circle is dead! Now we can rule this dimension without a care!" the single eye somehow grew colder, a blank stare. "And now it's official."

Ford looked at Bill with his still human eyes. "What is?"

"You're a demon. All you needed to do… Was let out that last bit. Snuff out the humanity."

Ford let out a sigh. He felt empty. No joy. No power. No sense of belonging or correctness.

"Bill?"

"Yes, Sixer?"

"Why was he still alive after all these years?"

"Because you needed to get rid of him. You needed to seal the deal."

"Why me? Why did I have to kill my brother?"

"Because it was meant to be."