Part 6: The Flux

Chapter 44: Redactor

Episode ONE: Intangible

DISCLAIMER: Pokémon does not belong to me!


10 November 2024, Vasquez Experiment Continued, Day 1,

This is Doc Westley Winston, reporting for duty again. You hands-off scientists wouldn't believe what we had to go through to get these two back under our control. The amount of coordination that went into our faculties – boy! That's something! Isn't that something? It just goes to show how powerful common interest is. I think that's why Delta Meadow's gonna bring home a win on this one. We have serious firepower, between Death Knell and our newly reformed Chevvy Chevron! Too bad just about every branch of the government deems us unethical. Well, what are they gonna do? Push the federals on us? Arm their political slingshot? The Meadow's untouchable. Right?

Needless to say, Subject 'Jack-Ki' is with me. Is? Are? There's two of them, but I only see one body, even if that body is in crumbly, burnt pieces. The smell is wonderful. I'm so hungry, but... I'll make an exception for these two, since I enjoy their company so much. Chevvy told me that I shouldn't eat meat that thinks. Not too much. Bad for my reputation.

The purpose of this experiment will be to further examine the interactions between Element Gamma Scion – EGS – and Element Gamma Laza – EGL. I know that Jack-Ki is predominantly of the former Gamma, but what happens when we introduce one to the other in this particular context? I still haven't procured a healthy secondary test subject. They're all... too... dying. Tampering with Gamma, regardless of its signature, is showing up too many fatalities, toying with biochemical stability, creating vestigial functions in organs that leave no energy for primary functions. It's Subject Alpha Drew Maire all over again, except with no blue fluffy 'Edge'. I can't wait to meet Edge. I bet he tastes... lovely~!

Going to finish moving in all of my supplies, then I'll update from there. You know, I can't get enough of those new opioid kits. The equipment here in the Deep really is state of the art. I'm excited to get to work ASAP.

10 November 2024 Again, or Unspecified Time, Vasquez Experiment Continued, First Update,

Sorry for the delays on the project. Word up on the surface is, the sun's stopped moving. Completely. Through and through. None of our officials up there know what's going on, so they can't give us any sound rationale or legible record of observation. I was already told that Flicker was a dud, so it couldn't have been that. Since I've been in the Deep for days now, I can't be bothered to keep up with news up above. It seems like, every hour, something new is exploding. Someone dies, then the whole town goes crazy over it. Seems noisy. Too noisy.

I'll need to think over how I'm going to date these recordings if the sun has stopped moving, but I just can't get away from Jack-Ki. As an involved surgeon and scientist, I couldn't be more interested in the phenomenon, but I have to play my part where I'm needed. Even a crazy goodra like me knows that! I'll just date these based on the updates. First, second, third. Having no day and night cycle might complicate things down the road. Begs the question, actually: how does the rest of the world see this?

Onto the experiment status. After relocating all of my equipment to the new room, I found something remarkable in the way of Jack's cell reproduction. Skin, blood – everything was coming alive again. Even after being burnt to as crispy a crisp as crisp could get, these two were still regenerating. Being the curious doctor I've always been, I dug around Jack's familiar chest cavity. He and Ki's fusion is no superficial thing! Their neural activity is identical. How'd I figure this out? Easy. They share a spine. That doesn't leave much left to be asked. If you can share a spine with another creature and have the resources to be alive, you have the same central nervous system, even if your brains aren't connected – well, they are. By that central nervous system. I'd imagine they could hear each other's thoughts, but, as former humans, that's not something we would choose perceive very well. So, a subconscious shut-off of that function may have occurred, which was why they were still communicating vocally. All hypotheses, of course. I was always more interested in their... mm, taste!

Jack-Ki is regenerating, but the process is slow and boring, and me tearing them apart some more won't speed it up... Maybe...

...

Unspecified Time, Vasquez Experiment Continued, Update Two,

Guys, this isn't a very exciting headline to listen to. Have we figured out a substitute for hours and days? Our clocks do nothing but remind us of an obsolete system, and circadian rhythm is nothing to go by when I've been stuck underground for the past umpteen days. Get back to me on that. I'd like to know!

I'll get to the status of the subject right away. After a few, oh, minutes – if that – of contemplating, I tore Jack-Ki apart. Limb from limb! Now I have plenty of tissue samples to work with, both from the host and the parasite. Now, these pieces don't regenerate on their own, so they depend upon the source, Jack-Ki, in order to function. But there's a threshold for that. We brought these two in when they were a few embers short of being a pile of ash, but they've still generated enough new cells to reform a corpse. This would mean that they can withstand a certain amount of separation from the body, OR Gamma is playing with us again. Either way, there's something I KNOW: The source – maybe the central nervous system – is responsible for the ignition of that regeneration spark.

Edit: It might also be worth mentioning that, despite disfiguration, Jack-Ki's cells still attempt to construct a replica of "Jack-Ki". The cells don't try anything else. And, well, why would they? Cells have memory, too, even if it is just a primal variant of muscle memory in the mitochondria; though, this is valuable. I can work with it. I have a few tests to run simultaneously, so these updates might have more juice to them. Gotta say, guys, this is almost too much for me to handle with what I've been provided. Get someone else down here when you can. Don't worry. I won't eat 'em.

Unspecified Time, Vasquez Experiment Continued, Update Three

I feel like I'm working myself down the bone, and I don't even know if I have bones!

I haven't slept in a while. No one tells me when to. I'm not saying it defensively, I'm just stating a fact. I don't get informed of... sleep time. The sun's broken, after all.

Thanks for getting back to me, by the by! All this progress is making me a happy-goo-lucky guy again! Keep up the good work on that new hourly system, and – my favorite part – thank you for the assistant. She's a real number!

"Westley, I'm... right here."

Sorry, Gracie! Good to have you with me though. I got so frustrated when I heard about Obby that I couldn't make any precise incisions. Not that it matters postmortem. Anyway, yes, Miss Del Cruz, our aspiring medical supervisor, has been promoted to the Deep. Congrats! You don't get down here unless you've had chunks of your flesh melted in a boiler and strands of your DNA put through a-

"Westley! You're drooling over the subject! And, on that note, we don't have time to study skywisps like myself when half of the staff IS skywisps."

Hehe, she's a charm. Always letting me know when my appetite's getting the better of me. Too bad she reminds me so much of our rebellious doctors. All skywisps sort of look the same.

"Borderline. Racist."

Yeah, sorry. It's not like God made you, though.

With Del Cruz here, I can get some rest and well-earned food. I'll let her take care of this recording while I go assess the surface situation for myself.

"Don't make a dent in our foodstuffs like you did last time. We have needy patients in the medical ward. You know how that is."

This is Del Cruz. I've caught up on Vasquez's files, and did a little extra reading into Kieran Bailey while I was at it. I wouldn't have thought there was another EGS species outside of skywisps and mystikka, but I can't find myself too surprised. According to Mari, we're working with a chlorowisp, and the only known one of its kind. It's unfortunate that it has to be in this condition.

So, the chlorowisp's cells bear a very particular resemblance to most flora. They have chlorophyll, cell walls, and, as the first would suggest, express profound responses to sunlight. They differ in that they interact with other organic lifeforms. In this case, a human, or Vampire, which would alter the reaction to sunlight. Given enough physical trauma, chlorowisps seem to be able to simulate, or implant their signature, then "hypergrowth", onto human (contextually speaking) cells, effectively recreating the human cell, but not disrupting it in such a way that would take it from its previous functions, like, say, a virus. In layman's terms, pain and injuries benefit the host and the chlorowisp. As a symbiotic being, they're extraordinarily adaptable to any type of damage. With Jack being a Vampire and Ki possessing the traits of any common plant life, the combination is a dovetail fit. When exposed to sunlight, the photosynthetic and Vampiric reactions both occur at once, leaving the two creatures trapped in a constant state of evolution, of which their cells translate as advanced hypergrowth, or regeneration.

Armed with the knowledge, I applied a steady balance of ultraviolet radiation and light to various samples of tissue Westley had procured. The procedure is ongoing, but based on the reports, I'm led to believe that there will be no reaction. Jack-Ki's regeneration is instant, and the samples have provided, as believed, no reaction.

I'm going to wrap up experimentation, but I'll keep a close eye on the subject's physical state through the night – if night is still a proper concept. Tomorrow, or rather, after I wake up, I want to get a closer look at the chemical compounds of the cells. Something doesn't add up. The research may bring us closer to understanding the nature of not only EGS and EGL, but of transformations they incite.

Unspecified Time, Vasquez Chlorowisp Experiment, Update Four,

This is Grácia Del Cruz, reporting in with the Vasquez Experiment, of which I've changed to title to better suit its purpose. As of now, I'm leading this research. Westley's been reassigned to a special team. Only vague information was handed down to me, so I'm led to believe that many of the things he is doing now will be marked with a large "Classified" stamp, even for a newly promoted Deep member such as myself. The hierarchy of secrets that HX has becomes more and more unnecessary with the world falling apart outside. Ethics and morals are devolving more than they already have here, but I won't object against any decisions – I am at least aware of Westley's participation in the Inner Circle affairs.

Due to the recent sabotage of Lithium Airlifted Robotic Specialists units, I won't be having any assistant with the experiment from here on. Not that I mind. This pace of work is perfect for me, and I have no trouble using the technology, if outdated slightly, provided.

As suspected, the tissue samples that I'd left under UV-light have not reacted in any way; however, the subject itself has nearly regrown to its original state, even after Westley's amputation of its—their, rather, limbs. Subject shows no signs of consciousness as of yet, but heavy sedatives are on standby. If the reports are accurate, Jack-Ki is hostile, but plenty of animals are most dangerous when cornered. Our experiments are not toys – they are people, and I will begin treating Jack-Ki as such as soon as they begin acting this way – like people, who deserve comfort, care, and respect. Often times, I feel as though our faculty is full of children pulling on cats' tails, but that's a personal matter. It won't affect my work.

I've taken to studying the chemical compounds of Jack-Ki's cells. The findings are unexpected, and go into more detail in the written reports, but for the sake of completion, there is a high concentration of hydrochloric acid within each cell. Cells are unaffected by even the lowest level of pH of a substance I can acquire, including ionic compounds and electropositive cations from deep within the underground reservoir. Basic compounds and anions disturb the integrity of the cell structure enough to elicit intermittent, violent reactions, loosely similar to the photosensitive findings of FLKR-HX3.

I know, from experiments with PLSE-HXN subjects and FLKR-HX3, that cell structure responded very differently to variable stimuli. Never mind the Gamma color – that's not my field. I'm looking for similarities, and I might have just found that here.

I concluded basic compound applications with baking soda, to which the cells reacted violently enough to startle me. Anything higher may have caused something akin to an explosion, as opposed to a very crude "burst", which is what I observed when making the application. Upon secondary observation of the cells, they had changed entirely. No longer did they have cell walls or chlorophyll. They belonged to a different animal. I couldn't identify it.

Adenosine triophosphate, being responsible, in part, for the process of metabolism, has shown to recklessly abandon its functions in previous experiments, most notably Chevron's case, whenever a set of catalysts is introduced to its immediate environment. One catalyst is a variable, while the other is a constant. That constant catalyst is some form of Gamma. Gamma and ATP, when introduced to the third, varying catalyst, result in a shift – a change, or transformation, of activities, functions, and purposes. Some of these are more violent than others, and HX decided to call those Purges – ultimately, a set of things that cannot coexist must come into contact, independent of the order, though with vehement preference to one of two catalysts, almost as if to suggest that these disconnected chemicals have a personality.

It's like... Hm, like salt to a slug's body, but with no decipherable damage to the cells, because the cells are not what they used to be. This, or the high concentration of acids in a chlorowisp's cells, may have to do with why Jack himself reported so much pain when Kieran was not making physical contact with him. Kieran's transformation to a chlorowisp was not shared with Jack until they could remain in contact for long enough. As Jack's blood has a neutral pH, and Gamma did depend on physical contact for a time, relinquishing any contact with Kieran, whose blood was practically battery acid, would have resulted in Mister Vasquez's inability to endure a transformation in his own blood cells. It may have felt as though he was on fire from the inside. It's horrid...

This doesn't explain much, but it makes me feel more sorry for the two.

Concluding research early. Everyone who is a wisp already knows it's unhealthy for us to go this long underground. I'll take a short fly, then resume observations.

...

Unspecified Time, Vasqeuz Chlorowisp Experiment, Update Five,

Grácia reporting at the time of incident. I'm unsure if a full twenty-four hour cycle has passed. It's unimportant right now!

Surveillance should tell the whole story by now, but I'm here seeing it for myself, and it looks bad. I'm calling a Code Nineteen-Eighty-Six – we lock down this entire wing of the facility!

Numerous crashes are heard in the recording. A wild, visceral giggle can be heard, fuzzy through the recorder's dwindling quality.

It's destroying everything! All of the high concentrate bases spilled over onto Subject Jack-Ki—we have to evacuate the facility immediately. Nineteen-Eighty-Six! I can't save the research! I need to go! We need to go!

Radio static breaking in and out of desperate yelling and manic laughter. After a garbled mess of noise and blaring frequencies, the recording cuts out.

Then a gentle, soothing humming picks up, almost childlike and playful. It ends, even after the recording has already concluded.

First Update on Status, Time Irrelevant,

This is Grácia Del Cruz, medical supervisor of Uppermost HX, lead researcher of the Vasquez Chlorowisp Experiment. I've kept the recording equipment with me ever since evacuating the Deep facility. Before I was separated from my evacuation team, I was told they had closed off that wing, with no sightings of the interloper on surveillance. It leads me to believe that, whatever came through from the Down, escaped the facility before we could quarantine it. It was bent on happening – a Nineteen-Eighty-Six can't stop a Purge. I heard Jack-Ki go off some time after I got lost in the Down. The damage must have been severe. I don't believe I'm anywhere near the complex now. For what it's worth, I recommend that no one go back to the Deep until we can get enough support to fix the situation.

...

Second Update on Status, Time Irrelevant,

Grácia Del Cruz. I... I don't know where to go. I've been in the Down for too long. I'm growing fatigued, getting hungry, thirsty... The air down here is incredibly thick with the smell of petrol – it's almost toxic. If I remain exposed to it any longer, I'll be sick. I can't operate underground like this. My senses fail, I feel the need to sleep, and... worst of all, I feel frozen from the inside. I don't have long, and I've seen no sign of civilization. No lights, save the infrequent dots staring me back from high above, and what looks like shifting in the darkness. But, as I said, my senses are unreliable. I may be hallucinating. It wouldn't surprise me.

...

Third Update on Status, Time Irrelevant,

This is Grácia.

An uncomfortable scratching sound against the recorder.

You can hear it in... my voice, now. My throat's dry. I can't... move, too much. I don't know how much ground I've covered in the Down. I could have gone in circles. Navigation here is impossible without light, and the fumes are practically intoxicating. My head isn't clear, and the shapes around me appear to be crawling. Sometimes, I hear humming close by. I could swear that it's calling my name, singing to me...

I don't feel like myself anymore. My eyes are constantly stinging. I feel like scales have been ripped from my body... Either the fumes have affected my physicality, or my research... did... something?

I don't know... I'm so numb to anything but pain. I'm not scared. I'm not angry. I don't feel anything like that. I need to sleep...

I need... sleep...

Update,

Found settlement. Need to update. Arbitrary, but need to. Allen Foster. Dangerous. Allen Foster is dangerous, but housing Flux. Called me Flux. Misunderstanding. Need to research more. Can't. No equipment. Sitting still. Having trouble. Need to move. Feel no urge but to go. Just go. Move. Something.

Flux familiar. One at HX. Name Laura Deitch. Dangerous specimen spreads a tainted Gamma to other EGL victims. Doesn't make sense why I am Flux. No correlation. Wrong Gamma. EGS. No question. No need to question. But need to research. But can't ask questions. Need to go. Move. Sitting still bad. Time irrelevant. Need updates. Updates. Updates...

In sleep, dreams give me feeling back. Temporary, but true. Feel everything again – alive. Need to go, but want to sleep, stay asleep, dream, be alive. Can't. Need to go. Still alive... Somehow, still alive.

End of Recordings

"Hmmm hmm...~ Hmmmmmmhmhm...~"

"Hmm... Nothing left of her...? I don't understand.

...Hmm hmmm~... But... Hmmm...~

...Now I'm here...?

Hmm... Hmmmhmhmmm...!"

"Hm... I'll stay. I can stay. I can wait. Find someone new. I want to... understand... Flux? :o"

Present Time

I awakened to the smell of gasoline, my nose reminding me how nauseated I should have been. The sting of canary yellow light slipped underneath my eyelids and pushed against my eyeballs. I closed them again, muscles tensing, arms closing inward. I was holding something soft. Memory told me it was Nirva. I lazily believed it. Two soft flaps were prodding against my underarms, begging to be raised further. They must have been his ears.

I was cold. Colder than when I went to sleep. My back was against the chapel wall. It stole all the heat from me, but Nirva was still warm. I latched to him, desperate. I hunched over, balling myself up as much as I could. My lungs were sore, the pain growing louder with each breath I took. I wanted to panic. I wanted to stand up and walk it off, like I would do for a leg cramp, but the comforts outweighed the pain. I was awake. I woke up to something – a smell, a sensation, a sight – and all of it was disconcerting, but it was something to wake up to. I was still alive, and I could participate in this... mess.

This motivated me. I fought through the bright lights and the toxic air, opening my eyes to a mass of black and red oily fur, coarser in some spots, softer in others. For a moment, it was nice. It was putrid bliss. I didn't try and define it for myself. It just sorta made sense that way. It sucked to be here, but it was a lot better than being nowhere.

Then, when my eyes adjusted to the light, it struck me.

So many of them. They were resting all around me, some of them just laying there with their eyes open wide, watching mine. Fluxes. The Fluxes were laying here.

I found one – that cat kid with the one messed up eye. He was looking at me the closest, his upper body gyrating, twitching so delicately that it looked like he'd been injected with caffeine. They were all shaking like this – all of them but Nirva. Their looks were poisonous. I could feel them all draining me with their tiny, warped pupils.

I then realized that, by his frantic breaths, Nirva wasn't asleep. His head was wedged into my gut so hard that I'd only just picked up on the pressure and the posture he was in. That was what had made me nauseous this whole time. He was scared. He had been scared, not sleeping.

"Nirbs? 'Ey... Nirva." I whispered to him.

The 'vee lifted his head a little, only enough to the point where I could see the shine of his eyes. He did it quick, pulling his muzzle from my stomach. He appeared haunted by, well, everything. This was different than usual. He looked traumatized, stunned, silent. He always had something to say about how scared he was, but not right now.

"Nirva, talk to me," I told him, keeping the volume down. I scratched under his chin and he lifted his head, but never once looked at me. "Why won't you... uh... what's happening?"

"It's the walls," he said, clear and loud. "They've stopped closing in—no, wrong. They're breaking down. Everyone wants release. And you hold the key."

He finally looked at me, but his look had a reason. It had logic.

My thoughts went straight to a familiar ring.

"You're talking about the bell," I nodded, staying comfortable with a quiet voice. "Okay... You're going to have to try very hard – like, you need to try and make me understand, even if you don't want to. I have something... very important... to the Fluxes."

"You won't understand. There aren't any words for this feeling, you... you have to be... one of us, to understand... Vyro-... H-... He doesn't speak with a tongue. He speaks with eyes and sees with his mouth."

He jolted his head back down.

"Uugh," I sighed. Glad he didn't go into too much detail. I turned to face the one-eyed boy by me. I could feel the warm breath bleeding from his nose. "Hey. You."

He didn't say a word. All he had for an identity was a smile and a gaze. His eye was the only part of him that was perfectly still. I had some number of these eyes on me. It wasn't a good feeling, just from the perspective of a relatively normal guy. Even then, there was a pushing sensation all around me, as if I had a fever and my head was fit to implode.

And then I...

I just couldn't look away from him. The kid, I meant. His stare was hypnotizing...

Like... water... Like bathing. Being washed clean and told you were okay. You could go. Run free. Be you.

You can't...? You can't go? Why not? Is something blocking you – what's stopping you? Is... it a wall? You can't climb it? You can't burrow underneath it?

"Cruce," Allen called out. I sucked my breath in and choked on it, tearing myself from the boy's face. It hurt. It felt too... literal, like I could still feel strands of flesh bonding us together – some sort of horrible... skin glue. "Get it together. It's me."

"Alle-" I coughed and gasped. "Allen! Uh, y—your Flux kids, they..."

"Yes, Cassie and I noticed," he said, looking back. Cassandra was coming forth, a perturbed frown pulling her jaw down. Allen pulled his collar out with his uninjured hand, fanning himself like it was hot. "She said you had something that was bothering them."

"Uhm, bothering?"

"Bothering," he repeated, firm. "You scared Cass good. I'm jealous of you after all."

"Allen, please..." Cassandra begged. Why was she so keen to avoid eye contact with me? She was Flux, yeah? So, big difference from the kids, but not Nirva. She and Nirbs both wanted to look away, like they didn't wanna get dragged into something.

"No? Sorry," Allen shrugged. LARS approached his left shoulder, but said nothing. "Alright. This ain't easy, but... you gotta go."

I wiped my eyes with the back of one of my wrists. Felt like I'd been crying, but there was no liquid on my hand. My ears heard what Allen said, but they didn't listen. Not very well.

I tried to look past Allen. Some of the other Vampires were sitting around in the pews with their heads in their hands, some looking over this way to see what the noise was all about, and others just pretending to ignore it. They never talked – they were about the closest things to human left.

Then it sorta fell down on my like an anvil, y'know? I was being told I needed to leave, so I looked at Cassandra, thinking that my relation with her would've saved me some words. She wasn't looking back. She refused so hard that I pictured the strain in her neck were she still human. I didn't have time to wonder why she was so afraid of my gaze.

"What did I...?" I tried to ask.

"Probably nothing, and it's probably not your fault, and we're not going to delay this and make it hard." Allen spoke so quickly and with such frustration that it spilled over into me and I found myself clenching my fists, but I didn't think to hurt anybody because of it. The sweaty suited man was on his way to the double-doors, LARS by his side. When he got there, he and the little bot worked together to pull them open, backing away from the entrance slowly, giving me another idea of how heavy the doors were.

The man did something to the corner of the door with his foot, limped over to the other, and did the same there while LARS held it in place. The doors were still. Allen returned to the center of the entrance and watched me, eyebrows furrowed like he couldn't believe how sluggish I was to react to his instructions.

"Come on. Get up." he raised his voice – not so much shouting, but enough to stir me to my feet.

I wasn't intending on walking out without some kind of explanation, so I stood for a minute, watched Cassandra cower away, flick her tongue, and then I stepped around the crowd of Fluxes, careful not to bump into any tails or anything like that. All of those eyes were still watching me. They were the only heat that wasn't Nirva, riding on the back of my head like a comb caught and tangled in my hair, pulling, tugging me back into that napping spot. When I took that last step from the pile of kids, the bell in my pocket chimed. Nirva's ears flicked so quickly that I felt the force of their motion even through my jacket sleeves. If I wasn't wearing something so thick, it might have hurt. Long ears, bud.

"Where do I go?" I asked, pulling myself from bad thoughts and short breaths.

"Don't care." he answered promptly, a joyful shake of his head.

The closer I got to him, the more it appeared as though he was poised to stop me if I broke into a sprint. I wasn't worried about him catching up, but... didn't I have nowhere to go? Funny. Just went full circle – like, it just occurred to me why I asked him the question to begin with. I should've expected a shitty answer. Of course he didn't care where I went.

I turned about, giving Cassandra one last plead. She rejected it, pretending to mend the Flux kids' concerns. They were all just staring me as I left. Nothing on their faces changed. They were all smiling. Hell, Cassandra actually turned around once to see if I was moving, but when she saw I was giving a brief glance right back at the nest, she avoided me like the flu. Like, two kinds of flu at once.

I heard a sloppy shuffle of feet against tile. Something was pulling me forward – not on me, but something against me. Nirva. I looked. Allen's hand was on Nirva's scruff of fluffy red fur. He was trying to rip him away from me. He'd managed to get Nirva's head back high enough for me to see his face. Eyes sealed shut, he was biting down with both rows of teeth, ears low again – it looked like he wanted to growl, but he was too afraid. Biting any harder, his fangs might've punctured his lip. He was hurt. Allen was hurting him.

"The Flux is ours." he cleanly stated before I could react. He gave a tug to the fluff and Nirva yelped. It was such a feral noise, and so gutturally squeaky at that, like the man was stepping on a puppy. Disgusting to listen to when I had the guy in my arms and all I could do was squeeze back.

"Wai-wait! Dude! Easy! I can hand him over just as easily and I'll be out of here. No harm done for anyone, right?" I panicked, the words spilling out of my mouth so sloppily that I was afraid Allen would've seen through my bluff. I needed to take the pressure off of Nirva, but...

Allen wasn't letting up. He was still pulling.

"Then let go of him." he ordered, voice like thorns, a shade of the homely man he was before my sleep. He was a cynic, but at least he had that reassuring smirk every so often. All that was gone.

We had a deadlock, the only thing keeping us from conflict being the 'vee in Allen's grasp. I pushed forward with both arms, as to ease Allen's pull, but not to let go of Nirva.

"I think I wanna hold onto this one," I said aloud, and I wasn't sure why. It was a thought. It should've stayed indoors, but it slipped out when I wasn't looking. Paige already snagged Atti from me, put back into her tower where she had to wait for someone to come bust her out again because they all knew what was best for her. "Not here. Not in this case. Nirva's my bud, and you're makin' him cry, so that's a down vote from me."

"Okay," Allen calmly dismissed, or acknowledged. Genuinely couldn't tell. His grip loosened, but I didn't dare take this chance to rip Nirva away. "LARS?"

"This platForm is aVailaBle for orDers." the robotic companion commented, somehow both clumsily and gracefully hovering behind Allen.

"Go ahead and do to Cruce's arms what you did to mine." he ordered.

I lifted an eyebrow, a white blur whooshing by my face. A sharp pain struck my elbow, and then numbness. I had already released Nirva with the afflicted arm. I froze. I worried what the numbness meant. Nothing good. Never anything good. He always said numbness was bad. Always.

"ComPlying with diRecTive, DeTecTive FosTer."

It went quiet. I dreaded the idea of the snap that threatened to break more than just the silence. LARS' cold, metal fingers were in place, some on my forearm, some at my shoulder.

I closed my eyes. I saw one of my arms hugging Nirva as close as it could.

Oh, shit... Holy shit...!

"All right, get BENT, PUNK!" someone shouted. Male. Didn't sound familiar at all – not the voice, but the tone.

I was pushed away but two sources. Back feet, kicking off of my solar plexus, nearly thrown back by the force, even if the one behind the push was as puny as LARS. The robot in question became still, unable to respond to the unwarranted change in my posture. I felt it try to push my arm one way, then pull the other, resulting in the sloppiest arm-breaker technique of all time.

I had Nirva to thank for it – for the safety of my arm. I caught sight of a shady blur plummeting towards Allen. It didn't occur to me that, given how heavy I felt for a fraction of a second, that Nirva had managed to sum up enough strength to fling himself into the air.

Both paws forward, glistening with a contrasting, bright blue, the rampant 'vee struck Allen down in a flurry of lights – for a moment, he himself became the light, diving at a speed that shouldn't have been possible unless he'd been shot out of a cannon. What was more, he never made precise contact with the detective, rather shooting straight through the man. I saw nothing but silhouettes through the small cluster of novas and flashes, brief radiance bouncing and dancing off of the chapel's walls...

...and with it came the most profound scent of burnt oaken dust, pollen, rose petals...

LARS wasn't holding me in place any longer. I stepped ahead, fingertips squeezed into my palms. The scents of burnt flora floated away, gasoline lingering back, pushing it away like it was never there.

I didn't see Nirva until I looked further down, the 'vee's poise a notch more serious than his usual tail-between-legs demeanor. With the way he was facing into the blackness of the brick-lined path ahead, I felt helpless to stop him, now more than ever after the display. I wasn't the most helpless one here. Cassandra shouted Allen's name from behind. I felt the need to sweep around and look for her, but the urgency surrounding Allen made a more appropriate point of focus, even if he was just standing with his back hunched more so than usual. It had a reason. He wasn't limping to show it, or waving it off. The body language was absolute. The tension in his throat was so clear I could hear it in each of his breaths. He was paralyzed.

"Uh...? Kkgh-... How did you... just...?" he wheezed. He lifted his arm – the broken arm, staring at it with open-mouthed intrigue. I squinted so hard that the creases made in my forehead, because...

...well, shit, the broken arm had flowers at the end of it. A big bouquet of blue roses blew up like a strange, fragmented balloon in place of his hand, and he just sort of couldn't take his eyes away from it, even as a liquid-like tint of pale green began to droop into his arm, sinking beneath his sleeve. He wasn't relenting to any pain, or showing any sign that the process was hurting him. He was completely, utterly dazed with the what must have been both the ability to move his damaged arm and, obviously, the bouquet. This occurred for his right hand violently enough to cause him to flinch, petals flying away into the windless air and drifting back down. He was watching both former hands, wholly unamused, and yet obsessed.

His hair lost its shine, before going pale, brightening, apparently coming together, as I couldn't see anymore of his individual locks. Up front, a wide white 'petal' of hair was brushed slightly to the side, with a number of smaller petals behind that. So, he had rose hair. From there, a long cord of entangled petals fell from the back of the hair like a rope – a ponytail of flowers, level with his lower back. He closed his eyes and, then covered his entire face with the two bouquets, wrists oddly (almost disturbingly) rooted to them.

"They must'a warned me a dozen times," Allen spoke, strangely clear and crisp through the flowers. He was tranquil. "And I shot 'em looks that made 'em all feel bad, but..."

He didn't finish the thought. Instead, a worrisome scoff.

He lowered the bouquet hands, his eyes bright red, with an upper-face-mask of dark emerald green, chin and mouth bright like his arms. His eyelids were softened with yellow, accentuating the brightness of his rosy white hair. That all changed that quickly, I thought. It was still going. He raised his chin as his posture began to shift, the clothes around his shifting body too large in some spots, and far too small in others, namely the waistline. His proportions were being corrected, but most of any visual sign of that was swallowed up by his attire, save the thinning and greening of his neck, spiny collar flicking up around his cheeks, accompanied with the skin of the small neck bulging out into small bangle of gold around it. Again, any reflection of pain was absent, in spite of the gentle cracks – like knuckles – at his ankles, his feet, his shoulders.

A few final adjustments to his body remained. A leafy cape flailed out from underneath the golden band around his neck, stuck outside of his baggy coat, sleeves scrunching up against the bouquets. His slacks fell, and he stepped from them, showing a smooth, deep green underside, midsection brighter, with small, thigh-heavy legs ending in pointed yellow tips. Were it not for the goofy, oversized outfit that half-abandoned him, he would have looked glamorous, and that...

...that was a transformation. The first one I saw. How'd it... How? What – was that Nirva's fault?

Just... nothing. Nothing resembled a human anymore. He was human, then... this. He looked ridiculous. Smaller. Big-headed, planty, s-sort of... badass, but... he wasn't human – he just went from being human to...

I couldn't even think straight.

"LARS..." the man – still man, given the largely unaltered voice – sighed to his companion. "G'me outta this mess, will ya?"

The bot let me free and moved over to its master. Was kind of nice in a way, but this was the guy who just tried to yank Nirva's fur off. The 'vee in question lost his bravado to a tide of cowardice that planted his tail to the ground and made his legs tremble. It was in his face, too. He jumped right from a snarl to a shivery lower lip and a neck scrunched back so far I could've mistaken him for the world's fluffiest turtle. I could stand here oafishly and question it, but I knew. By now, I could figure that any amount of courage from Nirva came in these small bursts. This was his biggest yet, and all the consequences of it were pressing him down like a stamp.

Well, maybe not that hard. He ran. He turned, fanned his tail, then gunned it. No one gave chase. Allen was too busy with his little undressing game to mix himself in with my interest now – and, well, good for him if his arm and leg were feeling better, but also the son of a bitch could live with what he just got for all I cared, 'cause that thing where he hurt my special little weirdo – yeah, mean. Mean shit.

I felt bad for Cassandra. Kind of. She shunned me hard, so I gave a passionate shrug and curse and darted by the new shorty Foster. Maybe half my height now? I could take him. Or, wait, he was a Pokémon. Didn't they have powers? Nirbs may have made a big mistake, then. Well, I was on my way out of there, abandoning all of the creepy flayed Pokémon children to find my own. I caught a glimpse of his red fluff right as I got out there. It swerved off into a wall of black. From where I saw it, sprinting on ahead with tired legs and a very confused perception, he got sucked into the dark. I thought it stupid to follow suit, so I went ahead and did it anyway. I veered off course right about where I saw him take the random turn, then it all went blank. The grayish, dusty stone beneath me lost its detail. My pupils were dilated, but there wasn't any light – nothing. I looked back, and, wow, there was light. Lots of it. No one ran out of the church, but the path had never looked so inviting.

I turned about and jogged on ahead.

"Nirbs?! You're good, bud. I'm right by the path! Swing back around and I'll meet you there!" I advised him. I made it sound one-sided, but also like he had a choice and I wasn't going to hurt him if he took his time.

...

Well, he took his time. I had to doubt him. It was the only way to remind myself of who I was dealing with. He wasn't sane, and now he wasn't even safe, but I didn't have time or brain power to put dots together and figure out why or how he morphed Allen like that. Hesitant, I took long strides forward into the depth of the cave, checking back to see how far I'd gotten from the path. A few big stones tripped me up here and there, but it was nothing I couldn't grabby-hands my way around. One of the suckers was small, and that was a bigger problem, 'cause it janked my ankle up. Hurt all the way down to my heel, but I shook it off.

Nirva never called back no matter how many times I cooed for him, even making myself sound smaller – something I knew he was capable of doing to me now. Y'know, all literal and whatnot. Sigh after sigh, grunt after grunt, I started to get the idea in my head that he just didn't want to come back, but that wasn't right. It couldn't have been. I had the bell, and whenever push came to pile-drive, I could just... ring that. Yeah? Yeah! I could do it, but I didn't want a mob of Flux children running after me in the pitch blackness of the cave.

Couple things. That got me thinking in the right spots. I pulled out my phone, brought it to life with the tap of its power button, and voila – let there be light. Not much, but some. It was enough to see the mess of moon-gray sediment and stalactites. There was a bumpy wall some meters from where I was running, uneven, holes burrowed through it. It went up and over me, so there was a roof... nearby? That meant that this was a cave system – lots of smaller caves snaking in and out of each other. I rolled my wrist around slowly, soaking up all the information I could with the light provided. There were some hard stops, some wet corners, some cracks – all of these were good locations for Nirbs to set his ass down and get stuck in. And there were a lot of them; however, ace up the sleeve. The bell. I could call him at any time. Aaaany time. Even though I had a phone, I was going to use a bell to call my friend over. My... terrified, cute-as-a-smiling-baby-Jesus friend... over.

Well, I... got to a big wall. Rounded off like the rest of the place. There were a few crystalline rock formations sticking out of the innermost point of the concave surface at an angle. It was just above my head level. There was nowhere else to go – I had to turn around. So I did. I didn't see any light. My phone went dim. I thought that might've helped me make out some light in the distance, but there wasn't much out there. Big 'ol juicy, tarry wall of blackness. Yeah, sure, it was the way I came, but I passed some curious gaps back there, so I was inclined to believe that this was its own little labyrinth. No lights. Bad air. This wasn't good. The bad air thing... I didn't think about it, but that sprint some minutes ago was still with me. Like, I still had it in my lungs – it should've gone away by now. When you ran, your lungs had to catch up. I knew me, so they caught up pretty quick, and my breathing usually felt all decent within the next few seconds. Now? Now, I... I felt dizzy. Never mind the gasoline festival. I couldn't see anything, every step I took had some incline to it, and I wasn't too great with tight spaces like this. That was a lot of strikes.

Adding a panic attack on top of that was like drizzling chocolate frosting on top of the pile of strawberries on the icing that was ALREADY on the cake, and when I checked my phone's battery, I came a little closer to making my own chocolate frosting drizzle down my pants. I was almost out. Good on it for lasting this long, but three percent battery didn't pose the best shape of hope for me.

"Okay. Okay, well..." I said with short breaths. "He didn't answer me back, I'm lost as shit, I might suffocate if I run around screaming, aaaand my phone and I are about to do the same thing. Kick buckets. Many... many buckets."

I stood there, facing the wall again, staring off at its curvature with the remaining light of the phone. Looked inviting enough. I sat by it, easing my back into the natural slope. There were some bumps and bips, but it was alright. Felt decent enough. Cold though – icy. It bled through the fibers of my jacket, shirt, and skin, then licked my spine all over. I let both legs fold out. Couldn't even see my own feet, but I knew they were there' cause they were barking. Ow. Damn divots and pivots 'n... rocks.

It didn't occur to me how long I was sitting there until I checked my phone's clock, which, uh, might not have made a difference, but numbers still meant something to a guy who was accustomed to having, y'know, day and night. I didn't recognize that amount of digits. It read, '10:23', and last I check, I saw a '9' in place of the '10'. One percent of battery left.

I wondered to myself if I would even notice falling asleep. The only things I had left were my eyelids, 'cause my feet weren't hurting much anymore. My eyelids told me if my eyes were open. Blinks helped. I started counting them, and then I realized I was going crazy. So I stopped.

"Cool story, bro," I said to myself. No reason. Just said it. Might've thought it funny if I came across someone I knew and told them about this. "Oh... fuckin', who'm I kidding? Did I even wake up back at the church? This feels like a nightmare. Real... bitch of a bad dream."

I shoved my palms into my eyes, pushing delicately, parting my bangs.

"What a turnaround. How long was I here on this... crappy version of Autumnridge? Some hours? Pff, if that...

I... didn't even... Wow, I didn't even get to see 'em. No Circle. Just caves and bad luck. Atti was fine... Wonder if this is how she feels. Surrounded by... nah, it's probably not that bad up there. The Grove... No Circle, eh? Would've been nice to have Tophs run up to me and give me one of those sweet hugs over the shoulders like he always did when we met up for lunch. Always pushed his hands off of me and he just... went up and hugged me all over again.

Maybe I could'a slapped Frenchie like a little bitch. Loved that guy. Piece of garbage sometimes, but I loved 'im, even if he's got a dick for a brain.

Al... Yeah, our big star. Full of himself, struttin' with 'dat swag' like he got it all figured out late down in life. Narcissistic didn't even shave off the fuzz on that dude. What a guy. Good leader though. Dependable, smart...

Patty. Well, Patty was quiet. She liked to explode into laughter whenever Frenchie and I did anything stupid. Loved her poems, kept to herself, never bothered anybody. I wish I had some of those poems here, but... ...and... phone wouldn't last...

Emi. I got a really... gross feeling, kind of, when I gave her that call. Was like... was like a friggin'... Like, uselessness. Not her or me, just the idea of calling her. Didn't fit her image. She liked doing whatever she could for people, even if she didn't have anything to do with 'em.

Nick, too. Pockets full of money didn't change what we were to him. Even if he was kind of a nihilist, he was great. Perfect for Tophs and I on walks through town. Super clever, too. That dude bailed me out of trouble way more than I would've wanted him to, but... he's just that generous.

Mm... Kat, you, too. You keep being what you are, 'cause you're tough, 'n no one gets you down. If anything, that should be my job, but you always... punch me in the neck whenever I get too close to you. Heh. If Tophs is up there with you, take care of him. Just... give him some love. He needs it more than I could explain – I could sit here and talk about it... but I'd... just die. Y'know? Ain't nobody got time for that...

You Square guys, too. I remember you. Talkin' about, like, music and... weed, er, I don't know. Danny B? Vince? Oh yeah, and you Hummings DJs – Zatch 'n Zack... Keep it ace. Keep it aaaall ace."

...

I wasn't even talking to anybody. I had a voice, so I used it. Stupid, right? Dumb shit. Why'd I speak when the quality of air down here was as healthy as breathing in cat piss? Well, 'cause I would've rather reminded myself that I was gonna shake off this mortal coil as a human being. Die human. Was that special? Was it a good thing anymore? Why was it even on my mind?

I didn't feel comfortable with what I saw. What happened to humans? Those Vampires didn't ever say a word while I was there. Allen was the only talkative one, and I didn't need to think over any more images of that shift in appearance. So quick, but all the muscles and tendons just goin', like that. Like, snap. They went so fast – all the bulging, the shrinking. How'd that not hurt?

Some more time came and went.

I was tossing the bell now. Every time I caught it, it choked on its own jingle, ceasing.

No sign of Nirva.

I was calming down, thinking of the things I'd avoided. I didn't have to agonize over drama with the Fluxes and Allen...and... that was it. The silver lining was all but invisible.

...

Quiet shuffling against rock and dirt made me lift my chin back up. Forgot I was even drooping like that. The shuffling stopped as soon as I looked on ahead. I saw something – someone standing there. It was a shadow. No details on it, but it was someone. Lucky for me, I was sitting here in darkness long enough for my eyes to get so used to it that they might've looked like nothing but pupil anymore. Gross.

"Hey," I called to the silhouette. My throat was hoarse, my voice sandy and clicking, dehydrated, but I tried to push forth the idea that I was meek. "Someone around?"

...Nothin'.

Couldn't have been too insane by now. I still saw the shadow. It stood there like part of the cave for, I'unno, maybe a minute? I crossed my legs, then my arms, pushing the latter pair against my stomach. Might've looked like I was just getting over food poisoning or indigestion. Same diff.

The shadow here, it... It had pointy ears, or shapes like that anyway, but they were wider than Nirva's. The head was so much rounder that it couldn't have been an eevee, only made clearer by how tiny the rest of the body was in comparison. Two triangles on top, a circle in the middle, and a little ellipse on the bottom, that of which looked as though it fanned out – maybe some kind of... uh, poncho? Drapery? I didn't see any arms, and it was cold down here, so this shadow might've had the brains to bundle up underneath a snuggie or somethin'.

Its head fell over to one side, tilted at the closest angle possible to ninety degrees. There was no crack or creak. It did so silently, but I saw it. It was a motion – it was movement.

I was uneasy.

"Hmmm... Hm hmmm hmmmm...~"

It was humming.

It hummed. I heard that before. Didn't remember when, but I heard it – maybe I slept to it.

"Hmmmmhmm...~ Hmmm hmmmmhmmm...~"

I was scared. The humming closed in on me. I heard it from behind my ears, above my ears, beneath them. I didn't find it loud, but it surrounded me. I left my ears uncovered for fear that my hands were so cold that it would sting them.

It stopped humming. The shuffling resumed, like heavy cloth against concrete, a wet sock against wooden flooring.

I brought the phone out, pressed the button, and there was no light. It died. I dropped it against my feet between my legs and pushed myself as tight against the wall as I could. This must'a been Nirva. Not the shadow, but the fear. I wanted to run, but my legs – they didn't get me up, and if they did, the terrain was too wild. I would've tripped. Couldn't risk a mechanical injury, so I sat it out. I let the silhouette get closer, the head bigger and bigger, even if the whole shape got no larger than, what, a teddy bear?

I was feet from me. Three feet. Two feet. Then, it stopped. No humming. No shuffling, but...

...a face. It kind of had one of those – good start, 'cept it didn't seem to be all there. Might've been dark, but I could make out the squiggly jagged mouth, the bright red crayon-esque patches on the cheeks, and the rounded scribbles for eyes. The color of its fabric was a sickly bright beige, hardly bright enough to be yellow or orange.

This was a Pokémon. Molly loved it. I knew this one, because Molly had a stuffed animal of it. Yeah! I-I remembered that little girl – uh, her friend! Her friend gave her this for her birthday. Right? Right!

But, just... it wasn't all there, like I'd thought. It looked like a poorly made doll of the Pokémon – of, uhm, pichu – had been draped over something else. There was a big black hole in its chest with the indication of dark fluids that may have spilled out and stained the fabric at a time. The stains almost appeared red, but the figure was just within my vision to get even the tiniest pinch of color remotely accurate – in fact, I'd only just seen the boomerang-shaped black tail behind it.. It kept its head rolled to one side and... w-was it looking at me? Hell, this thing was creepier than it was intimidating...

I was frozen.

"You're... Maxi, aren't ya? :O" it spoke to me. The voice matched the sound of the hum. It belonged to a little girl. When it spoke, it gave me the depiction of the simplest of faces. It just... put it right on my brain. I pictured it.

I didn't say anything back to the ghoulish creature, not out of spite, but out of shock. It knew what to call me, and I didn't know where to start with that.

"Well~?" it enticed me, swinging its head over to the other side. The bumpy smile on its face appeared to grow wider.

"Ghosty...?" I recalled. Allen wouldn't shut up about her. Ghosty. I couldn't think of a better title for the creature than that.

"Ew! Ewww, D:" it shook its head in disapproval, but the expression didn't change. It seemed to have trouble getting its head back in the proper orientation. "I hate when people call me that! Eww...! :c"

Where was this thing even talking from...?

"I-I'm... I'm sorry," I told her. "What would you like me to call you?"

"Ahhmmm... Hmmhmhmmm...~ x3" she hummed. "Oh, Squiggles! You can call me Squiggles, but you have to say it like that. 'Squiggles'! "

She was speaking nasally, implying she had a nose somewhere.

"Zelda? Wh—Squiggles?" I repeated her, still teetering towards fear over comfort.

"Nuuu, you gotta be all, 'Squiggles!' " she emphasized the squeakiness of it. It was so... nosy. I couldn't speak like a teensy little... ghost girl.

"S-Squ... Uh, 'Squiggles'. o~O" I said, doing my best to get that nose-pinch voice out of my throat. She must've liked it. I wasn't sure how, but the swirly black eyes went all happy for a second, like they were sketched on – an overjoyed arch shape.

"Yeeeeyeyeyeye~! xD" she giggled, the little wedge-tail shape behind her flapping back and forth. I leaned in. Knots of tension untied themselves in my back and my shoulders.

"So you... A-... are you safe? You won't, I don't know... bite my brain out?" I grinned to her, showing my teeth – I wasn't confident in my safety at all, but at least I wasn't dealing with someone I didn't vaguely know. How many other Zeldas were there? Weird name. We had something in common.

"Oh-nooo, no bitey Maxi's brainy! Is yucky."

"Thanks?"

"Mm~!" she mewled, as if to tell me, 'you're welcome'. "A-Squiggles needs to a-go a-get a-some bad bads, yeh~? You wanna come, a-Maxi? :3

I thought Nirbs spoke fast when he went into one of his terror spell things, but this girl was loony tunes. Put Nirva to shame, and she didn't even have a mouth. Maybe that was unfair. Lips and tongue got all up in the way when you wanted to vomit your thoughts out fast enough.

"I... don't know what that means, uh... S-... 'Squiggles'. O~o" I admitted, raising my voice a few steps to get the name just right for her.

"Yeyeehehehehehe~! x3" she laughed some more, twirled around, ears and head flopping about like they were held up by nothing but cotton (which was a strong possibility).

Did she fit with the Flux, I thought. She was too friendly to be the Ghosty person Allen was talkin' about, but when I told her the name, she knew something about it, like she had a history owning it. And, well, Allen never gave me any kind of verbal illustration of her. It made me wonder if he knew he was going to kick me out of the church right when he saw me walk in; or, rather, right when 'Ghosty' let me inside. Of course he wouldn't have give me a description. He may have wanted to play me into her from the start.

"But first..." she straightened her head, pausing a while – long enough for me to lean in and nod her on. When I did this, two shapes, narrow and crooked, burst from underneath her cloth body, towering over her before shooting forward, the ends of these devilish black tendrils forming sharp-fingered hands that promised to grab me should I've moved away. Two tiny gleams of white sparkled within the hole in her chest, the space beneath those dots superseded by a bright white, curved line – 'U' shape. A smile, bathed in black.

I nearly coughed up my heart. I bit my molars against each other. My jaw ached.

The ache came and went, like all the shapes and walls around me. I had a thought to run my hand over a surface, but the surface wasn't there. I had another thought, but the thought faded, and left me wondering why my body wasn't as cold as it used to be. I only remembered a smile, black hands, and a humming sound that carried me through the ever-dark.

What...? Wh-... Where'd I... Where'd...?

I can't move? I fell asleep? Whoa, frig me, was this really a nightmare?

No, that ain't right, 'cause Ghosty—Squiggles, I mean—she was right here, or there, in front of me.

I didn't have a reference for time, but regardless, sometime spent in the dark, I realized that I didn't feel anything but the fatigue in my lungs. I couldn't curl my fingers, roll my neck or shoulders, lean back or forward, or even cough to satiate the wetness in my throat. I couldn't scratch my itches and blink for tired eyes, but all the annoyances were there, and they became bee-stings. I found pleasure in breaths and heartbeat, the sludgy blackness somehow allowing the process of both. I breathed in as I would normally. It told me that I wasn't sleeping. It told me that I wasn't dreaming. It was too involved for that.

I remember what she did, but she did it too quickly. Without light and decent air, I didn't get to see it well, but she got me. I'm out of my league. I can't even think fast enough for things that've already come and gone. How do you live here? How do you get by in a world without a working sun and moon, where its people want you – and they do take you. They take you. If you fuss, too bad. They're stronger than you.

I'm, like... I'm a helpless thing. I'm a lemming. A flightless quail.

I think I...

…I'd be better off Fluxed...

...

...unless I already am.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I-I'm so sorry."

Footsteps heavy, legs sore, running, grazed by cold bumps, battered by stone tongues.

"I know! I hear you... I'm sorry..."

Taken by mistakes, panting through an orifice that I didn't own, streaking through smells that spoke to my jugular in shapes that sounded like needles and claws against cadmium and tin.

"I-I'M... I'm sorry, Cruce...!"

It was too dark to see in here, and I was fine. I liked it, something primordial... I couldn't see anything jump at me. I couldn't see the faces screaming. No more eyes. No more white cheeks, rounded black mouths, and soulless depictions of that girl. That girl, she... She called me her brother. Now, every time I saw her, I saw nothing but a hollow mask of her face, and it wasn't here, underground. But... but she... she did the things I did with the... starlight. The Gamma, she did... she made them Blue, and I...

...I made them Red...

Even in black, where I belonged, because all you could see on me was... red.

And Cruce held the key to all that. The universe – the door to it, the other side, where the Reddest one waited and watched with an open mouth. He was buried beneath chains, shackles, static... and he screamed into them, I listened, and I couldn't stop hearing the echoes.

I was so tired, but I kept moving wherever, even into walls. I pushed them with the top of my head. They didn't move, so I banged my skull into them until they moved, but they still didn't, so I did it more until it hurt, then I stopped.

And I walked another way after that. Sometimes I fell. Sometimes I rolled onto my side and let my legs dangle, because I liked walking on air, where I couldn't be stuck walking on the ground where hands liked to pull me down. I didn't like hands when they had no arms.

Kept going...

Didn't look back. I couldn't. There was no back. It fell off.

Backs always fell off, then got glued on again in front of me. Scissors? Paper? They were cut? Cardboard? Cloth? A tapestry? It all looked like a canvas where things were being painted whenever I took steps, but the paintbrush had no bristles. It had whiskers, and it felt the canvas, tried to turn away, but it could only ever turn back to the colors that shaped its fate.

That was why I liked it black. I liked this black. No colors.

BUT I HAD TO GO SOMEWHERE! WHERE WAS I?!

...

"Cruce... I-I can't... explain it to you...

It's so hard to... think...

Every... t-...time I talk to you...

That's all it is... 'bud'... It's just words I remember...

I never once thought you were my friend, because... I'm... not even alive...

I'm just a mouth that remembers... what friendly noise sounds like."