"I'm sorry Bismuth, but it's not right."
The strong hands that had, moments ago, presented their greatest masterpiece began to tremble. A nebulous feeling took root in the blacksmith's stomach and began to grow. There was confusion, and shock, and hurt...
But the emotion that came out on top was anger: a rage as red hot and fiery as the forge around them.
"Not 'right'? What do you mean 'it's not right'?!"
"To shatter gems-"
"Homeworld gems, Rose!" Bismuth's voice grew louder, as if the increased volume would get her message across. "They're the enemy!"
"The enemy? They're only following orders. Their 'purpose'." Rose's voice barely rose, but her tone cut through Bismuth's shouting like a sword. "We were no different, before we became Crystal Gems."
Bismuth felt her cheeks burn. "They had their chance—multiple chances—to turn! Like we did! And while you sit here dithering," she punctuated by smashing a nearby training dummy, "our allies are being crushed left and right! With the Breaking Point, we could save them!"
"At what cost?"
"Why," Bismuth growled, "do you care more about our enemies, Rose? They'd shatter us all if they could! Why would you sacrifice our lives to spare them?"
"I'm fighting to save life on Earth. All the life on Earth."
A thunderous, guttural yawlp broke from Bismuth's throat. She lunged forward, swinging a hammer fist at Rose Quartz: her leader, the person she'd respected above all others. She expected Rose to dodge or block it or make a counterattack.
Bismuth didn't expected her to take the blow.
The founder of the Crystal Gems landed in a heap of white dress and pink curls. She lay on the ground, not moving, her face obscured from view.
For an instant Bismuth felt horrified at what she'd done. But that shock was swallowed right away by righteous fury. How could Rose be so blasé about their casualties? Had she forgotten how much they'd already lost to Homeworld?
"Are you that arrogant, Rose?" the blacksmith demanded. "Do you think we can win this war without actually fighting? What about our cause? Don't you believe in that anymore?"
There was silence. Then Rose leaned her weight against one elbow and pushed herself upward with the other hand. "I believe in a better world. A world without war or oppression or shattering those who see things differently."
"And how will you make that world a reality? With a bunch of pretty words?" Bismuth gritted her teeth; angry tears fell down her face. "No. If we do it your way, that world will be built on the shards of the Crystal Gems. Your armies, my friends...we'll have to lie down and die so that you can live in your better world!"
"Live in it?"
Rose finally looked up. Her eyes were wide and vulnerable. The rest of her looked so small in comparison. "I'm not going to live in it."
Bismuth took a step back, her brow furrowed in confusion. She watched as Rose rose to her feet. Her old comrade turned to face her squarely, their gazes locking.
Strange. Rose's eyes hadn't always been pink. Had they? And why...why was Rose crying? That didn't happen when...
"There's no place for me there, in that better world." Rose smiled through the tears. "Just like there's no place for the Breaking Point."
CRASH
The sound of something breaking jolted Bismuth out of the daydream. Immediately she was on her feet, searching frantically for where the battle was. Something hit her foot and she morphed her hand into a blade, charging downward to face—
A ball. A white ball with red lines. The kind humans used for that game with the stick...
And then it all came back to Bismuth. She was in Steven's house. In Beach City. On Earth. The war was over.
She sighed, scolding herself for being so jumpy, and bent down to pick up the ball. There was a hole in the window above the couch where she'd been resting. The ball must have gotten knocked through there.
"I just fixed that window, too," she grumbled with a little grin.
She let herself out of the house, onto the deck. The twilight air rang with the sounds of shouting and singing and laughter. Dozens of gems filled the beach below, running around and causing innocent mayhem.
Bismuth had been with them not too long ago, before deciding she needed a break. Some of those quartzes had far too much energy for the old warrior.
She tossed the ball up and down, her thoughts rising and falling with each soft thud in her hand. What a strange thing she'd remembered, while she was resting. No. It wasn't a memory—that's why it had been strange. This confrontation with Rose had taken a different turn than the real version.
Why had she dreamed about it that way?
Looking up, Bismuth could see stars beginning to dot the darkening sky. The specks of light reminded her of the countless shards lying dormant in the planet's core. Even now, with the best and brightest assembled on one planet, no one was sure how to help them.
Her chest began to ache. How many of her friends were part of the Cluster now? How many of them could she have saved, if she hadn't been poofed? If she hadn't consulted Rose and used the Breaking Point herself?
But then...
A spray of sand shot up into the air, followed by a bellow of triumph. Biggs and Amethyst had bested the two Jaspers in another wrestling match. Nearby, Steven and the Nephrite crew were cheering them on from atop a pile of empty Chaps bags. Down the shore, Peridot looked up from her Meep Morps to yell congratulations while Lapis Lazuli rolled her eyes in amusement.
The Breaking Point didn't give second chances.
Bismuth made a sound that was between a chuckle and a sigh. "We weren't that different, were we Rose?" A blue palm came to rest on her chest, as if that could soothe the pangs she felt.
Not so different.
Bismuth had wrestled with so much guilt and shame after being unbubbled and seeing the aftermath of the war. And then again, after attacking Steven and having to face the Crystal Gems. She had come to terms with everything, and forgiven herself, with the help of her friends. But Rose was on her own. She never trusted them with her deepest feelings. How she must have suffered over the war, the corruption...and maybe even over Bismuth. Was that too much to hope for?
She would never know the truth. Rose couldn't answer for the lies, manipulations, and harebrained schemes. Maybe that was why Bismuth dreamed of her now: some pathetic attempt at closure. But what good would it do? She'd never get to ask her most burning of questions.
"Why? Why didn't you shatter me back then?"
Rose must have known that Bismuth would never have given up on the Breaking Point. Not until the war was over.
'She wanted you to be free someday,' a voice whispered in Bismuth's head.
"No," the blacksmith murmured. "She couldn't have. I was a liability. Even if I said nothing about the bubbling, I made her rose sword. I would have seen through the whole Pink Diamond charade in an instant. Bringing me back would have been sui-"
There's no place for me there, in that better world.
Like a molten weapon plunged into ice-cold water, realization came into sharp relief.
The soldier who had given up on peace. The couple who needed their own answer. The devoted servant who deserved freedom. The free spirit who discovered her real worth. The damaged gems beyond her help. The distant family she hated and loved, in spite of it all. The child who was her everything.
They would get to live in the better world. They would grow and change and mend the broken things. They could go and find joy somewhere, everywhere. Together.
One last sacrifice had been made, for that to happen.
Bismuth slammed her hand down on the wooden railing. "Rose Quartz! You stupid, immature, selfish fool! This was all your doing! You're responsible for this whole crazy mess! It was your impossible dream, from the beginning! You had a responsibility to stick around until the end! You deserved to face the consequences of all this idiocy! What gave you the right?"
She buried her face in her arms, her hands clawing at her hair. Slowly she breathed in and out, counting down prime numbers. She felt herself come back to the moment; the breeze against her face, the salty sea air in her nose.
"Bismuth!"
Her head jolted upward. From down on the beach, Steven was waving to her with his huge grin. "Come bet on the next match! We saved you a bag of Chaaaaps!" He waved them in the air, trying to tempt her.
She blinked. Then, gradually, the cathartic numbness gave way to insane laughter. "Get ready to lose big time, you tinheads!" Fatigue seemed unimportant now. Bismuth jumped down from the deck and ran towards the warm, happy commotion. Towards the friends and family they both loved.
Maybe she was projecting her own feelings. Or maybe she was finally able to see past the myth of Rose Quartz and the infamy of Pink Diamond to where the murky truth was.
After everything you did—even if you couldn't live there, you deserved to see it, at least once. Idiot.