Chapter 28: Endless

Sardonyx:

"Despite whatever you think, I still don't think I'm broken or wrong. I refuse to think something that makes me stronger is bad, even if it gives me a weakness too." I say, the air so cold that it bites at my lips.

"We'll have to fix that. Don't worry. Reeducation takes time, and a lot of suffering." Luna Agate shrugs, standing upright.

It's all she or I say, until her Pearl comes back and pulls a hose out of the wall. The next half hour or so is spent with Luna Agate spraying me with freezing and below freezing water, but in the end she decides the effect isn't satisfactory as a long term use. It still causes me quite a bit of discomfort, the sensation of it highly overwhelming and disturbing, but I don't tell her that. The sting of ice forming on me, or coughing up water, or feeling it behind my eyes or weighing me down is not pleasant. Or maybe she sees the discomfort, and decides it's still not enough.

The next week, we spend testing more and more such tortures, but in the end she decides the tank and the chair are enough for her, the best way to elicit the reactions and suffering she wants. But instead of returning me to the chair for more questioning, which I've complied with so far, she drags me, once more by my hair, to the tank. She holds me up, over it, but doesn't let me go, forcing me to stare into what looks like eternal and infinite darkness.

I feel myself shake at the prospect of going through it again.

"What is it, Sardonyx? You have something to say, I can tell." She croons. I hesitate, because I know what she'll say. I know there's no getting out of going back in- I'm too weak to fight, and it's her job to keep me at heel, to make me suffer, and she likes it.

"I don't want to go back in." I hear myself think out loud. I don't remember making the conscious decision to say it, but now that it's spoken- "Please, don't make me go back to them." I beg.

"The voice? The hands? What did they say to you?" She pulls me back from the edge to hold me closer to her.

"They wanted me to come back to them, but I don't know who they are. I don't know where they come from, or where they are now. I know they're not real, but they sound real. I can't- it hurts to not help them." I whine.

"Too bad." She says, and drops me in anyway.

I land with a muffled thud, and I watch as the light shuts off, disappearing with the closing of the latch. The stubborn part of me wants to make a leap for it, despite the high potential for being crushed and poofed- but then the opportunity is gone. The weak part of me, the drained and beaten part, says no, I can't even try, so I didn't. I curl up, defeated by myself, and wait for the voice to start.

I try to think of everything that ever made me happy, something to siphon strength from for this new stint in the dark. I think of Phantom's smile, of dancing, of singing, of holding their hand and running, running, running. We were good at that. I imagine them running on alone, leaving this planet, hoping they've done so by now and are long gone, and making their way to Earth. I imagine they stop at the Marble planet, and learn a terrible secret about the Diamonds, and leak it to the whole universe. I imagine they destroy the Diamond Authority themselves, taking them down from the inside, somehow. I imagine they make a great speech about me when they do it, or better yet, they remain completely silent, and the Diamonds quake in fear, because they know. They know they deserve to fall.

And, as much as it pleases me to think the war could be over so easily, and all our dreams for a new kind of society made possible if not instantly real, I still wish I could be there for it. I wish I could be there with Phantom and everyone else if and when it happens. But I'm going to die here. Maybe not in this tank, maybe not in a day or a week, maybe she'll play with me for months or even years, but I am going to end here.

It's not that I doubt my dearest companion Phantom Fluorite. It's not that I don't think they're capable of something like this. It's that I don't want them to risk themself for this, for me, in a place like this. It's why I gave myself up, after all. They couldn't save us both, and I sure couldn't do it either, so I had to choose. Who to save? Of course it was them. I promised. I promised I'd never let them suffer at Homeworld hands. I remember that much. I care too much to forget.

Maybe that's selfish of me. Maybe they hate me for taking the choice away from them, for surrendering so easily, but I couldn't see a better way out then, and even looking back, I don't see one now. I know now that if we both were taking, neither of us would survive. Luna would destroy us both, using each other, and she'd toss back the shards to Homeworld with a dainty 'oops' and never a thought of guilt in her mind for it. I remain resolute that this is still the best course of action for both of us, even if I have to feel this way.

What I wouldn't give to see Phantom smile again. Just once. For a moment. I try to remember or imagine the exactness, but even the most accurate memory could only be a facsimile of seeing it in front of me, and my memory is famously poor. I just know that it makes me happy to see them happy, and to know that I, maybe, helped make that possible.

I shudder as I hear the voice for the first time, again.

"Why did you leave?" It asks, bubbling with anger, indignity. I shake my head at it, but it continues. "Why did you leave? We need you and you left! Come back! Why did you leave? You're ours, come back, we want you, we need you-" And it goes one, drilling me, begging me for an answer but never giving me the chance to. It doesn't matter because I don't understand what it wants from me, who it thinks it is, or, rather, who my dying gem wants me to think it is. Because, in the end, it's not real. It's a dream, brought on by lack of sensation and energy, a side effect of slowly expiring.

I am surprised when the voice doesn't grow in volume in number, but in depth. I can't explain how, exactly, only that it feels like the voice bubbles out and over itself, stretching wider and wider, enveloping me rather than flooding into me. Like empty space, it threatens to crush me, but in it's own terrible way it is beyond understanding. I am further surprised when the hands never return, the voice only spreading further and further around me, taking me in, deafening me in it's vast depth and dullness.

I am not surprised, though, when I find myself sapped of strength and will sooner, and I am immensely more grateful, as it allows me to ignore or soften the booming of the voice. I know this is me at the edge, me at the gates of defeat, of death, but with the voice crushing me, and no energy with which to fight, I can hardly bring myself to care. It's too much, and I will take what refuge I can get, even in the silence of the end.

I almost feel myself give into it, fall away, but like a shock in the chair, I come back to myself, to the voice, to the physicality of the tank and my being, away from the edge. I can't seem to give in, to let myself go. That place is too far, I'm not ready. It calls me anyway, oh how it calls, and how easy it would be to just not fight it, but as close as I come to it, I can never seem to do it. I don't know if this is just more hallucinations, more false sensation, but it is a dance that I do not like, a back and forth of never winning, only suffering.

Somehow, I find myself in the chair, with Luna Agate before me, smiling. She's got a soft, dainty smile, and it would be beautiful if I couldn't see the malice in her eyes. And the way her skin is dotted with secondary colors is so pretty, and fun to look over, to follow the curves and the waves, except for how they twist when she smiles, warping so slightly but somehow so perturbed..

"How are we doing, hmm?" It takes me several moments to realize she spoken, and then several more to know she's speaking to me. I can't seem to remember how to move my mouth, how to make words work, and her patience can only last so long, it seems. A small but sharp jolt runs through me, and I find where my mouth is when it opens in a pained gasp.

"I'm awake." I push out, trying to explain that I'm thinking, I'm here, I understand, I'm just having some trouble.

"Good enough." She laughs, openly cruel. "Let's talk."

And I do. I talk. It's easy to talk, of everything she wants to know, myself, my life, what I remember. My compliance is a simple trade; my words and honesty for minimized suffering. She asks and I respond, and rarely does she receive an answer she does not like. She grows bored, getting her answers so easily, but from the pointed nature of the questions, I assume she has a list of things she's meant to find out, which means that I am safe from 'unhappy answer shocks'. I lose track of time effortlessly as she asks and asks and I answer. On and on, on and on. I almost feel some strength, true strength returning to me, when she asks a question I will not answer.

"How do you fuse?" She asks in her bored tone, perhaps not realizing the essence of the query. For the first time, I don't answer at all, mouth agape. Do they really not know? How- how could they not know after all this time? It's just like fusion with a gem of the same type, a matter of synchronizing, just more complicated with such different experiences, but not more difficult. Luna Agate looks up at me, hand in her cheek. "Did you hear me?" I blink. What should I do? It's not exactly a secret between Phantom and I, but it's something I have over Luna, something finally in my hands, not in hers, that I don't think I'm willing to give. Nothing else mattered, but this... Should I keep it in?

Luna Agate looks down at her screen, rereading and comprehending the question, then looks back at me, a fire in her expression.

"How do you fuse with Phantom Fluorite?" She asks, pointedly, curious now. I bite my lip, resolving to say nothing. "Sardonyx." She states my name like it's a command in it's own right, but I just smile, albeit nervously.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I try to sound brave, defiant, cool, but my voice quavers. It feels good to have something for once, to keep it. Maybe in a moment I'll regret it, but for now, I have a power over her, a power over my life. Luna Agate grins and signals her Pearl with a look, not even a wave of her hand.

A pulse of energy rocks through me, from my hands in to the rest of me. It forces me upright, stiff, every part of me trying to move at once and failing. It burns, it hurts. It disappears, and I fall slack against the chair, as much as my restraints will let me, which is not far.

"How do you fuse?" She asks again, and though my eyes are pointed at the ceiling, I can hear her glee. 'Finally, a challenge', I can almost hear her thinking. I roll my head down to look at her and hiss. Without a motion, the electricity is back, rolling through me, a cascade of pain. I hear my voice warble out something akin to 'ouch', but warped, stretched, bleeding out and wrong. I gasp when it releases me. "How. Do you. Fuse."

"I don't know. How do you fuse?" I slur, scathing.

"Are you saying it's just like any other fusion? Or are you being difficult?"

"Yes." I reply, bitter and sardonic. Again, there is no sign of the punishment before it comes, it simply arrives, erupting through me. I can feel my form twitching, glitching, but it goes on anyway. I try to keep myself composed, keep my form contained, but the longer it goes, the more I feel myself getting loose and scattered until- "Stop!" I cry, and after a second of hesitation, they do. I sink again, body whole and relaxed again, although aching.

"Tell me."

"It is just like any other fusion, I presume. I never fused with any other Sardonyx, at least that I can remember. In theory, yes, it's just like any other."

"Explain how you do it. In detail."

"We synchronize for a purpose. We fuse. We become a new 'I'. That 'I' performs the purpose, and then we unfuse."

"That's textbook! Explain how you synchronize." Luna Agate growls, hand raised to signal her Pearl, but doesn't follow through as I cringe.

"W-we dance. It's the easiest way to- to get on the same page." I explain, hushed and hurried.

"How did you do it the first time?"

"That's private." I mumble. Those memories stem from the one bad one I have of Phantom, and I'd rather not explain it. I don't want to remember what it felt like to think they hated me. But Luna Agate drops her hand, and the electricity is back inside me, burning me from the inside out. It's short, though, not quite enough to leave me gasping or numb or buzzy, just a little dizzier. It's a threat of more to come: 'keep talking, or it will be worse'. So I square my jaw and set my eyes. "I tore apart half a ship. Phantom had been captured with an inhibitor, for the first and only time, and I was determined to save them. The- the, uh, I think it was a Peridot, she pushed Phantom out into the hall, and, and they were very weak, and it- it was horrible to see them like that, and, and then Pyrope ambushed me, and we got separated and, and.." I blink. I don't remember all these details. "Somehow they got rid of the inhibitor, I guess, because then we were hugging, and it was- I never wanted to let go. I wanted to be there forever, because I care about them, and they had been in such pain and I wanted to make sure they never ever felt that way again and be there for them and, and suddenly we weren't them and me, we were, we were 'us'. That's all I remember."

"Touching. I see where you got your 'promise' from." Luna says dryly. "So you synchronized on accident. What about on purpose?"

"I don't remember the first time very well."

"Are you sure about that?" She says, a smile creeping onto her face. I cringe again.

"Yes, really! I just know it happens when we dance now, if we want it to!"

"Why dancing? Why not, say, talk it out? Or just.. hug… like you did the first time?"

"Those aren't guaranteed to get us on the same, ah, wavelength? We, we've got to feel the same things. So, sure, we could talk ourselves into fusion, but I assure you it would take far longer than to say 'let's fuse', and dance. Dancing- we see and we feel and we become. Talking is messy and doesn't always.. add up. But movement- if I do a twirl, it's a twirl, by any word or description, and it says, in some way, how I feel. And their response to that twirl tells me how they feel, until we come together, feeling the same thing. It's emotional. It's meaningful.

Same with a hug. We hug all the time, but for lots of reasons. To reassure each other, or just because. And certainly we could fuse in a lot of those moments, but to just hug is not always to fuse."

"But the same can be said of dancing." Luna says, aggravated.

"Yes, and we often dance for fun and not for fusion, but when we do choose to fuse, it's the most reliable way to do it." She sighs, further confused.

"Could you demonstrate?" She asks, growling.

"Phantom isn't here." I state flatly. It's the truth as far as I know it, and from her look I know it remains true. "So you haven't captured them? Are they still on the planet?"

"Hmmph." She crosses her arms stubbornly. She looks up to some corner of the room, annoyed.

"You don't know where they are, do you?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" She replies with a smirk. "My question still stands. Could you demonstrate if you had a partner?"

"I.. I guess. It- it would be weird. I don't know anyone else. I- I think some understanding of their personage, their life, is necessary beyond just feeling the same way in a single moment. I- I don't know."

"What if I had someone you did know?" She asks coyly, mischievous.

"Wh- like who?"

"One of my Cassiterites. Do you remember them?"

"N-not really, no. I might remember if.. if I did meet one of them. Maybe. Why?"

"I could have one of them brought here. I still hold authority over that planet as something of a supervisor and a counselor to the new manager there, but I could have that done. Or.. perhaps we could try it?" I gasp in a hiss, baring my teeth in horror at the suggestion of fusing with someone like her, and she laughs, sneering. "If I won't do, perhaps my dear Pearl? She should be capable of fusion." She raises her hand and her gaze to her Pearl, somewhere behind me.

"Pardon me, mistress, but I would not merge my form or thoughts with hers if my life depended on it." The Pearl says, honestly disgusted. Luna Agate laughs again, apparently charmed.

"Then we'll put it out of mind for now, but if the opportunity arises, I will demand a demonstration of you. Don't forget that." She jeers, and I nearly gag at the implication. "Now, you've gotten rather feisty. I'd hate to think you were back up to full strength, so we're going to take a bit of a break, and let you exhaust yourself a little. Don't worry, I'm only thinking half a day, this time."

"No, no, I'm behaving, I'm answering your questions- I don't need to go back, I'm, I'm plenty tired, I assure you!" I whimper, practically digging myself into the chair. I'll take this to that. Luna Agate shakes her head, 'tsking' at me.

"The fact that you're so.. emphatically opposed is reason enough to put you back in. I'm going to mix it up this time, too. Have you ever been submerged in liquid before? We've got plenty of water on this planet, you know." I have no answer, but I suspect the trembling of my lip and the shake of my shoulders and the grip of my hands on the chair are all answer enough. "Still, we wouldn't want you fighting on the way over, would we? Pearl, give her a good long one while I call ahead." She stands and leaves and I plead with my look only that she not do this, but then Pearl activates the stream and I am on fire and eyes and sight are meaningless, distant concepts.

Seconds feel like minutes, burning holes in my mind slowly, like hull melting on contact with dense atmosphere. I don't even notice when it stops, because it echoes through me, residual energy taking its time to do all the damage it can do. I can't move without making everything hurt worse, and I nearly start screaming again when they remove the chair's restraints and take me away, but I can't find my mouth again. Everything is agony, and names for different places of such is pointless.

The gem drops me at Luna Agate's feet, just beside the hole. I crumble, still aching, though graciously less than when the walk started. I can't quite see straight yet, but I can hear something lapping, slapping against the edge of the hole, something that wasn't there before. I force myself to look up, to sit up. She hasn't thrown me in yet for a reason, and I presume it's something she wants to say to me first.

"There's a theory about what the voices are." She opens, tapping the foot closest to the hole, as if I need reminding. "I shouldn't say theory. There's no proof, no way to test it.. it's something of a myth, I suppose. Do you want to know?" I shake my head. I don't want to go back in, not a third time, not for a moment, not 'just for half a day'. I don't want to understand. "Too bad. They say it's the voices of the deceased. All of them. We know we have souls, an energy that is neither defined nor truly captured by even the complex structures of our gems. But we don't know where they go when we die, do we? We can't seem to measure them once our gems are sufficiently destroyed.

But energy cannot be created or destroyed, only changed, yes? It must go somewhere. It's been thought, not by me, that they go to some other plane of existence, and that on the verge of death yourself, you are close enough to that plane to hear them, to feel them. So who have you abandoned that's died that would be calling for you, Sardonyx? Who would beg you to come back to them? To join them in eternity?" I tear up, I can't help it, because I don't remember, and I desperately hope that if something like that did happen I would remember it, but I know that what I want and what I hope hardly ever match reality, and the absolute possibility that it has happened and I've forgotten is crushing me. I let out a sob, and shake my head, and when I bury my face in my hands, they push me in.

The first thing I feel is shock. Shock at the cold smoothness of it. And then I feel discomfort as it flows into my gasping mouth, filling me. I cough, instinctively, but the latch is already shut, and there's no air in here to displace the water, so I do so futilely. I hate the feel of it, though, and keep gagging, my form fighting it. I can't ignore it, can't forget it, can only feel it constantly in my throat and hollowness, which only exists for the sake of talking, but is useless here. I wish I could shapeshift and remove it, but I know I can't do that safely normally, and I don't know if trying to displace it would cause a worse and more dangerous pressure in the air- and water-tight tank.

I sink to the bottom, coughing and clawing at my throat, too heavy to float. I am familiar with this much, the impossibly smooth and curved shape of the tank, and it's almost comforting to feel it, even if it is the cause of my repeated trips to near-death. At least that much is familiar. This, water, this is new and bad and I can do nothing to fight it, except maybe take comfort like this.

The extra cold seems to sap me faster. Or maybe it's just the fact that I give in faster. Or that I keep returning here. I don't know enough anyway to really determine the truth. I just know that I can't stand it, how fast I fade.

Still, the tank remains quiet for what feels like a long time, and I almost feel restful, if uncomfortable, alone in the dark watery tank. But when the voice comes back, it comes back thunderous and vile.

"Where were you?" It sings like engine roars, and I reel. "You left! Where were you!? You let us die! Where did you go? You left us to die!" It accuses me, shaking me.

'I don't know!', I want to shout, but my voice is buried in water. I don't know them, I don't remember and it kills me that I don't, that this might be real, that I might have forgotten someone who meant the world to me, that I left someone to die. I clutch at my head but the action is as mute as I am. The voices carry on, blaming me, questioning me. And this time, their hands do find me again.

Crying and curling up, vainly attempting to hide from the resounding call of the fallen, their hands are first on my back, almost comforting, almost calming. Then they move through me, into me, more piercing than any sound could be, more filling than the water in my throat. I want to scream, the emotional agony of those hands on my core, on some central part of me that weeps and moans for their unknown, invisible suffering.

It remains that way, their ghostly hand on me, their voice despairing, my memories failing to account for it, until Luna Agate comes to fish me out, as she promised, a half a day later. I am strenuously aware of the passage of time, and no numbness comes and consoles me this time.