I DID IT! I DID IT! NOT EVEN 24 HOURS! HA! I CAN FINISH THIS! I CAN DO IT!

Crazy.

The word echoed in his mind as two other voices whispered it, and somehow he was aware of it applying to him. The name, the name connected to the word, meant nothing. Ty was a nonentity, and yet he recalled the name as once having significance. It was an empty sound now.

What did crazy mean?

He received three disparate answers. Images flickered in his mind's eye, changing before he could process them. A frothing mouth. A straitjacket. A dragonling running in unending circles. There were sounds as well: a deranged laugh, wild shrieking, a thundering roar. Each image and sound fought to be at the center of attention. The thoughts countermanded each other, and it hurt as their electric energies collided within his brain.

Please, he thought as loudly as he could. Please stop.

Stop what?

Then the pain was back, and he shuddered in its throes. "Hurting me!" he yelled. Then his mouth ceased to be under his control, and Jason felt himself babbling.

Who was he, anymore?

Weak-petty-human-cage-Jason.

Child-afraid-alone-powerless-Jason.

That was the only thing he could be sure of: that he was Jason. What he lacked was a definition of Jason. The name lacked any substance behind it. It was another empty sound, except it meant him. It described a distinct category of the memories and feelings and thoughts that they shared.

The only problem is that he didn't know which.

He knew that he was him, for all the good that did; he'd also learned that the voices had names of their own. Mygin was one—

Dark-power-scary-fire-Mygin.

Cruel-danger-dragon-Mygin. The thoughts came unbidden, pulled forth by the name. The other voice was Ion—

Poison-quiet-viper-Ion.

Coward-cold-venom-Ion.

They lived in his mind. He had voices in his head. That must be why he was crazy. An electric headache was building in him, and he pressed his hands to himself. Please, he begged Ion and Mygin. They must be fighting again. Don't fight. You're hurting me.

Then let me win, child-Jason. Ion's thoughts lashed out at him, and Jason hastily gathered himself. Ion's spears of thought pierced at him, tearing into his essence and pulling away splinters. He fought to hold himself together as the dragon's massive intellect assaulted him.

Ion's mind was powerful, and blotted out his vision. In the darkness, his soft voice resounded. Let me win, and you won't be hurt.

I would be nothing. Jason snarled, and struck blindly at the dragon. Ion ignored the attempt and maintained his attack, capitalizing on Jason's lowered defenses. They screamed in mutual pain as both blows struck home—the first time they'd been united in anything.

Then a darker presence, one that was equal in power—but heavier, in a way—broadsided them. Mygin sent both of their minds reeling, assaulting them with brute force. Jason struggled to breathe and clawed at his throat. Mygin was crushing him, crushing the breath from his body. He pushed back as hard as he could, and then suddenly Mygin was on the defensive as Ion attacked.

Jason withdrew from the fight, exhausted. He couldn't sleep—he physically couldn't. There was no way. All he could do was become more and more tired. All he could do was get closer to the moment of his destruction. It was fast approaching, he sensed; if one of the dragons were left alone long enough then… he didn't know what would happen.

He knew he would be destroyed, but he could not understand what that meant. Would he die?

No one in his mind knew.

It was that not knowing, in part, that kept him fighting. If he knew he were to simply die, then he might accept that fate. However, there were things much worse than death in life.

He wanted the pain to go away. Jason felt tears on his face, and was almost embarrassed for a moment; he didn't know why, though. He knew two things: that he was Jason and that the pain of the two dragons in his head was unbearable.

He focused for a moment, and perceived that the room was empty. Ember—

Traitor-monster-hot-Ember.

Zariah-dragon-powerful-ruler-Ember.

Queen-strong-danger-prison-Ember.

She had left, with Wispice. That name was apparently beneath the notice of Ion and Mygin. She had left him to them; she served Herobrine—

Fire-master-powerful-Herobrine.

Nether-evil-god-Herobrine.

Lord-cruel-death-Herobrine.

She served Herobrine, who had done this to him. She had let this happen to him. This… this was her fault.

Her fault, Mygin agreed. Kill her.

No. Ion extricated himself from Mygin. It is not her fault. Herobrine did this to us.

Yes, Jason realized, remembering again. That was how it was. We should—

Kill the girl for this.

No. Kill the god for this.

Then Mygin and Ion were at it again. The pain sawed through his mind, leaving him with no choice but to accept the new, third truth about his existence: that he was Jason, and Jason was crazy.

Ember had the most exquisite eyes of any mortal he'd ever seen. Herobrine watched her from his place in the corner, where he stood unbeknownst to her. She was crying, and it was beautiful. The shade of purple that her eyes were when she cried was one that he never saw any other time.

He wished that she cried more often.

He couldn't be precisely sure why she was crying now. He tilted his head. She was simply standing in her room, tears running down her face. Ember was watching her reflection as she cried, and her face was curiously blank.

Sometimes when Ember cried, she was a mess. Her face turned red and blotchy, and she sobbed loudly. At those times, he wanted to slap her. This time she was silent, except for the shaking breaths that she took. Herobrine watched her as she bit down on her lower lip, which was trembling ever so slightly.

There was no emotion in her face. Usually she could be read easily, but now he had no idea what she was thinking. Herobrine pursed his lips as he examined her face. Her pale skin only amplified the darkness of her hair and eyelashes, which framed those perfect amethyst eyes. He couldn't stop looking at her eyes. They were as bright as flame.

The tears meant she was sad; he knew that much. Mortals cried when they were sad. When mortals were sad, they wanted to be comforted. If he comforted her now, then his hold over her would grow. He needed to be sure of her loyalties.

Herobrine glided to her and touched her shoulder. "Ember."

She spun around, startled, and stared at him. "My lord, I… I'm sor—"

"What makes you sad?" he asked, cutting her off. Her apologies were a waste of time.

Ember swallowed. "My lord, I… it is nothing. I'm sorry. What do you need?"

Herobrine frowned. She was being evasive, and that was most displeasing. Fortunately, he could see the answer on her face. "You worry for Tyler. Why?"

She flushed slightly. "I… he's my friend. I care about him."

"He will soon join us," Herobrine promised her.

Ember's eyes were filled with doubt. "I know," she said, but her voice shook. "I hope he will."

"He will." Herobrine took her hands. Ember's pulse sped up, very slightly but by just enough that he noticed. "He is breaking. We had an… interaction… today. Adam did nothing to protect him. Tyler—"

"Ty." Her lip was starting to tremble again.

He managed to not roll his eyes at her. "In another day, he will do whatever you ask of him. He is alone. He is afraid. His resolve is weakening. He will be persuaded to join us when you come to him." Herobrine smiled faintly. "He even half-believes it."

"Believes what?"

"That he was the one who killed Seto." He waited for Ember's smile.

For a split second, he was afraid that she wouldn't, but then her lips curved shakily up. "That… that's good." Her voice was unsteady, however, and tears were again beginning to fill her eyes.

"What about that displeases you?"

"It's just that…" She swallowed. "I hate knowing that he's hurting. I… I'm hurting him, aren't I?"

Herobrine looked at her carefully. There was a naïveté about her face that reassured him. She is mine yet. The boy has not won her over. His fears of her leaving his service had been rising. If she were to leave him, then he would have to kill her. If he killed her, centuries would have been wasted. He needed her to take the Overworld.

Ember must have taken his silence as agreement, because she looked down, tears again running down her face.

Herobrine hurried to correct his mistake. He caught her chin with one hand, raising her eyes to his. "You are doing what you must. You are saving him, Ember. If he does not join us, he will die. You know this."

"But he's in pain because of me."

He knew exactly what to say. "He would die without you."

She took a deep breath, and he watched her face clear. "He would." Ember smiled then, a real smile. It was small, but it told Herobrine everything he needed to know: that there was no way she could betray him.

Fears assuaged, Herobrine smiled back at his prisoner. She would be his, forever.

I'M BACK!

Yes. My brain is back to the author's notes. Aren't y'all so glad?

Thank you if you've read this far. You people have a higher degree of perseverance than yours truly, for sticking with this since July 2015, which was when I last updated. Yeah, it really has been that long. Did you know that Sunset, the first book in this series, was first published on August 6, 2014? And New Dawn (ya know, this thing you're reading) started November 2014?

Damn, I'm good at procrastinating.

I'M A NATURAL TALENT! YAY!

Something like that. Again, thanks for reading, and I hope y'all enjoy the upcoming conclusion of this storyline! Au revoir, mon amis!

SOTC: "Goner," by twentyone pilots.