A/N: Aargh! Had to chainsaw this chapter again, folks: pacing issues once more demanded that I trim the chapter and use the material for a start to the next.

Anyway, without further ado, the latest chapter! Read, review and above all, enjoy!

Disclaimer: Gravity Falls is not mine... as I've said before :)

Unfortunately, McGucket's survey of the car proved all too accurate.

The engine started making tortured noises less than ten minutes into the journey, and by the time they'd finished weaving through the maze of parked cars and dead ends, they'd slowed to a half-hearted crawl along the road. By the time they'd reached the outskirts of Gravity Falls, they were bleeding oil. In the end, the Stanmobile finally came to a halt perhaps a hundred yards from the edge of the forest, its mangled wheels shuddering to a stop with a jolt that sent thick plumes of smoke billowing from under the hood.

"We walk from here," said Ford grimly.

"Walk?" Mabel echoed. "Where?"

"Anywhere they haven't reached yet, anywhere that's secure enough for you to shelter in, anywhere the Mabels don't already know about thanks to my memories – take your pick. I need to get you to safety long enough to figure out what to do next, and right now, the woods are the only place left in this town that could qualify."

"What about you?"

Ford sighed, readied the syringe gun and injected himself at the neck. It was his fourth injection in the last half-hour, but with all the exertion and stress he was under, the serum clearly wasn't doing him any good: even in the faint glow provided by their flashlights, his face looked younger than ever – down to his early thirties if Mabel was any judge.

"Well," he said. "I'm down to my last six vials of serum, and I have a sneaking suspicion that they're actually losing their potency with every dose I take, so I probably don't have long before it's all over for me. Before then, though, I have to make sure you're ready for what comes next: there's things you have to know about this situation, things that could save your life and save all of us. Most of this is hot off the presses, as Stanley would no doubt put it, and I'm not sure just how valid it is… but it's all we've got."

"But you're supposed to come up with a cure for all this! You and McGucket were supposed to-"

"Save the day? That's not going to work out anymore, Mabel: the Queen knew what she was doing when she set out to take over this town. She's been systematically shutting down everything we could have used to save the day, and now that I've been cut off from the best of my tools and the lion's share of the serum supplies, there's no way I'll be able to formulate a working cure. We can't target the Forger Wasps anymore: we need to target their source – their benefactor."

He took a deep breath, and shuddered as a new and unpleasant sensation rippled through him. "I'm sorry, Mabel, but now it's up to you."

In that moment, Mabel's heart felt like it had been filled with lead: by now, her confidence was so low it might as well have been scraping bits of gum off the floor as it dragged past, and with very good reason; she'd caused this epidemic to begin with, she'd let Dabel trick her into spreading the plague across town, and she'd failed to stop Pabel from ruining their defences. All in all, it was hard to imagine how she could possibly save the day at this point unless the plan was for her to join forces with the Forger Wasps and screw up everything for them as well. The idea was so ridiculous she could have laughed, but of course, she couldn't, not with the crushing dark of night all around her and the sounds of shrieking laughter in the distance.

(Was it her imagination, or was that getting closer?)

So instead, she just asked "How?"

"I'll explain as much as I can in the time I've got left, but if we're going stay safe, we'll have to keep moving while we talk: we need to stay ahead of the horde. Be sure to listen carefully, though – I'm not going to get many opportunities to repeat myself." A mad, joyless smile glanced off his face. "I'm not going to get many opportunities to be myself if this goes wrong," he added, chuckling mirthlessly. "Come on, let's go."

Mabel didn't know how to respond to this except through mute panic, so she simply allowed Ford to lead her out of the car and up the hill towards the gaping mouth of the forest. And from here, in this light, it really did look like a set of colossal jaws, the straight-trunked redwoods looking uncannily like needle-sharp teeth in a ravenous mouth, ready and waiting to devour them.

They were walking slowly and steadily at first, but as the distance sound of shrieked giggles echoed ever closer, they broke into a swift jog up the incline. Mabel didn't need to hold his hand to keep up with him, somehow managing to keep pace with his long strides even as they lurched up the hill; either she was so supercharged with adrenaline that she was somehow keeping pace with the increasingly rejuvenated Grunkle Ford… or Ford was getting slower.

At this point, Mabel didn't want to make guesses, but it certainly seemed as if guess number 2 was the safer bet. She couldn't bring herself to ask about it though, not with those sounds growing ever-closer, so she remained quiet until the first few trees drifted past them and the lights of Gravity Falls finally began to fade behind them.

Then, once the sounds were beginning to recede into the distance again, she asked, "Look, why can't I just buy some time for you? You're the expert on this whole 'cure for the common Mabel' stuff, so why don't I get their attention and lead them as far away from you as possible? I mean, they're not going to hurt me while I'm carrying their Queen around, right? While I'm getting locked up, you make it to the bunker, calm down, make some more serum, and come up with a cure."

"No."

"Come on, Grunkle Ford-"

"I'm serious, Mabel, getting captured by the Mabels is not an option except as an absolute last-resort, and we are not that desperate right now."

"Not desperate?! We've lost our only base, we're running through the woods at midnight, you're getting sicker by the minute, and we're probably the only people in Gravity Falls who haven't been infested! How is this not desperate?!"

"Mabel, they'll probably be able to hear us if we shout."

"I…" Mabel took a deep breath and very deliberately lowered her voice. "You've told me that giving myself up to the Forger Wasps wasn't an option before, but you said you couldn't tell me exactly what they'd do to me; so why should I be so afraid of what they'd do to me? What's so terrible about what they might do to me if they can't risk killing me?"

Ford took a deep breath. "They need you mind intact and functioning so the Queen can continue to feed off it, and they need your body more or less present so the Queen can use it as a vessel. Other than that, they can afford to take serious liberties with your biology if it means keeping you under their control. Remember, they have the memories of everyone they've assimilated, and Fiddleford's technical knowledge could be horribly misused in order to restrain you, to say nothing of all the medical know-how gleaned from doctors, surgeons, nurses and other-"

"Look, just give me some examples, okay? What's the worst they could realistically do to me?"

"Well, during my travels across the multiverse, I've heard tell of Royal Hosts being imprisoned in virtual reality to prevent them from escaping; there've been first-hand accounts of biological stasis, hibernation units, cryosleep, even medical comas; I've actually seen one or two hosts that have actually been moulded to walls and floors to stop them from running off. And…"

He bit his lip, a worryingly Mabel-like gesture. "There was one instance in which a Queen used the biotechnology of her dimension to regress her host all the way back to infancy; every fifteen years, they'd give him another shot of rejuvenating elixirs and shrink him back down to a baby, just so they wouldn't have to deal with the hassle of constant escape attempts. By the time I met him, the poor guy was so traumatized by the process that he'd almost completely forgotten his life prior to regression – he had an adult intellect, but that was about it. And if the serum had been a little less physically debilitating, his jailers wouldn't have allowed him the extra ten years to adjust; they'd have just zapped him back to infancy every time he turned five."

"Something tells me that we don't have the technology to make people into babies, Grunkle Ford."

"No, but if there's no other way to keep you from escaping, the Queen might be willing to have your legs amputated."

Mabel stopped dead in her tracks. "What," she said flatly.

"This is why I didn't want to tell you about this, Mabel. But that's the truth: there was one host who was so determined to escape captivity, a Forger Wasp Queen ordered her drones to cut the man's legs off. And when that didn't stop him, she did the same for his arms… and just to be on the safe side, she blinded him, too. This is why you can't afford to be captured, Mabel: they need your brain working and your body more-or-less intact – and that's all."

"Oh."

There was a pause, as Mabel hastily took to her heels again after the swiftly-retreating Ford. "And there's another thing," he continued. "The bunker is off the table as well: you've been there before, so they know all the security measures; they'd be on me before I'd be able to upgrade the defences – assuming they haven't already posted sentries there."

"Then why bother doing anything? If the Queen knows everything we know, then what's the point in even trying?"

"She doesn't know everything, though: she can't read your thoughts. She knows your personality, your emotions and your memories, but she doesn't know what you're thinking, and that gives you the advantage – and that's why you have to hear everything I've learned so far, before it's too late. You have the opportunity to set things right, Mabel, and it's important that you know what you're really up against…"

Some distance away, the Grey Professional watched with amusement.

It was close to the end, now, so close he could almost taste it. He could taste Mabel's tears in the air, savour the rich smell of grief and defeat wafting through the night sky; Ford would soon be gone and the girl would soon be alone with only her guilt to keep her company… up until the Forger Wasps finally caught up with her. Yes, the game was almost over, and soon he would have the chance to gloat over his victory. The client would have the opportunity to exalt along with him, and Mabel would finally understand the full extent of her failure – and the eternal torment that awaited her once their game was done.

He dearly wanted to spy on the next few minutes of Mabel's ongoing breakdown, he truly did… but as always, there were rules of engagement; getting too close was against the rules, especially when doing so might tip his hand to the client. He wasn't called a professional for nothing, and with his reputation and so many bonuses riding on this job, he wasn't inclined to ignore the rules at this juncture.

So, he would wait.

He would keep his distance and maintain a watch over Gravity Falls as a whole; after all, the client was paying for footage of the demise of the human race as well. Yes, he would maintain a respectable distance… until Stanford Pines succumbed to his infestation, and Mabel was left all alone with her misery and pain.

So, barely stifling his laughter, he floated away to view the carnage from another angle.

"There's only a handful of individuals and organizations who have it in their power to safely negotiate with a Forger Wasp Queen, and very few of them have any interest in attacking our dimension. And it's an organization who are behind this, believe me."

In that moment, they were deep in the forest, probably well past the Enchanted Glade and into unfamiliar territory. By Mabel's watch, it was thirty minutes to midnight, they had only two vials of serum left, and by now, Ford looked to be in his twenties – at best. If Mabel was any judge, he could be down to age nineteen any minute now.

Worse still, his advice had been cut off several times in the last hour or so: more than once, they'd heard footsteps in the distance, and they'd had to stop and hug the ground in case it turned out to be patrolling Mabels. It was only now that they'd been walking for ten uninterrupted minutes that they were finally getting to the point:

"They call themselves the Retribution Squad," said Ford.

"The who?"

"They're more formally known as the Eternally Clean-Handed Zathropodal Brethren Of Mercenary Vengeance, but everyone calls them the Retribution Squad. They're an organization for hire across the multiverse, and they have taken jobs from just about everyone – and I do mean everyone: they've even accepted contracts from people who've previously tried to wipe them out. As long as the client wants to take revenge on someone in an especially cruel and hands-off fashion, the squad will take the job. And they'll only allow revenge: no world domination, no coup d'états, no election night horseplay, no resource grabs, no hostile takeovers, nothing but the strictest and cruellest kind of vengeance. Nemo Me Impune Lacessit, as they say."

"Nemo who?" Mabel blurted. "And what do clownfish have to do with all this?"

In spite of himself, Ford smiled. "It means 'No-one harms me and remains unpunished.' They are facilitators of vengeance, multiverse-wide enablers of other peoples' desire for revenge. And now they're after us."

"But who sent them? Who wants to take revenge against us?"

"I don't know, and all I could get from the radio was an alias: William Yard VIII. Don't ask me who the hell that's supposed to be, because it's probably some kind of obscure riddle that I haven't had time to focus on. The point is, this Mr Yard wanted us to suffer without anyone knowing it was him behind us all, and he hired the Retribution Squad for the job."

"So there's no point in guessing why this happened? We're facing the end of the world for no reason whatsoever? That's it?"

"I'm sorry, but we can't focus on the whys and why-nots right now, Mabel: we don't have enough information on the…"

Ford sighed. "I don't have enough information. All I know is that, based on the fact that they picked you as royal host for a Queen, you're the main target; they want you to suffer the most. And that's why you have the advantage: the Retribution Squad will want to draw out your agonies for as long as possible, and as long as they're still trying to do that, they'll leave you free to act. And as long as they think they've got you exactly where they want you, as long as they believe you're effectively incapable of stopping them, you have the opportunity to beat them." He took a deep breath and paused. "You see, there are rules- Aaah!"

With a sharp yelp of pain, he stumbled in mid-step, and would have toppled over if it hadn't been for the tree he'd collapsed against.

"What's wrong?" Mabel asked urgently.

"Arrgh. Cramps… or something like cramps. Stabbing pains in my legs, one way or the other." Panting for breath, Ford drew his handheld scanner from a pocket of his coat and anxiously studied his stricken legs. "Ah," he said at last. "I was worried about this part. The muscles have started contracting; it's a precursor to the final stage of transformation, a warm-up to the really nasty part of this: as I get closer to your age, the muscles will actually shrink, along with my bones. It'll be… quite painful, I'd imagine."

He injected himself at the neck again. "Last one, now. How do I look now?"

Mabel examined him as best as she could in the pale glow: already, his square jaw was starting to look a little bit on the slender side, and his once-muscular build had well and truly wilted away; now, he had the spindly, skinny frame of his early college years, judging from Stan's description. Once again, it wasn't as simple as de-aging, for his hair had gone the exact chestnut-brown shade as Mabel's. Was it her imagination, or were his facial features beginning to soften? Did his voice sound more like hers now?

"Uh, eighteen, I guess," Mabel estimated. "Isn't there anything you can do to stop it from hurting?"

"Of course: all I have to do is stop taking the serum and the conversion rate will proceed much smoother and swifter. The more I draw it out, the more it hurts. I've got solutions to that… but they won't be of much help while I'm still on my feet. Come on, I've got a little while left; let's keep moving."

As they marched onwards, ever-closer to the enchanted glade, Ford continued as best as he could – as even as he spoke, Mabel realized with a growing surge of horror that he really was beginning to sound like her. The more he talked, the more she heard her own voice blending and weaving in with his own – not a perfect replica of it, but more like how she'd sound as a teenager; she could still hear Ford's own voice in there, but it was getting progressively younger and fainter as it merged with hers. And the more Mabel listened, the more inescapably wrong it sounded: Ford wasn't meant to sound young and chirrupy, just as she wasn't meant to say the things he was saying.

"There are rules to the Retribution Squad," he continued, now in a much lower tone of voice. "They're not common hitmen, and they don't get their hands dirty: they inflict revenge for their clients indirectly, through proxies, accidents, twists of fate, the bigger and more agonizing the better. And in all cases, there's only one operative assigned to a case, both to set the ball in motion and to make sure the client can enjoy the sight of their enemies suffering. Chances are, we've got a member of the Retribution Squad – a man called 'Grey' – is watching us even as we speak."

Mabel looked around nervously. "He's invisible or something?" she asked.

"Something like that. They have access to that technology. They have access to a lot of things, technology that straddles the divide between science and magic… and on occasion they have real magic; it's a diverse group. Point is, there'll be one of them here, and if I'm right, he will be prepared for the worst."

"So?"

"This agent will have had to arrange everything about this act of revenge, Mabel, and that includes getting a Forger Wasp Queen on board. A true professional wouldn't have headed into a Wasp Nest reality without protection, and Grey wouldn't be here unless he'd made arrangements for worst-case scenarios – the most obvious one being a betrayal by the Queen."

Mabel thought for a moment. "Wait… you're saying he's got a cure?"

"That's the idea. Probably multiple vials of it, in fact."

"Great! So how are we supposed to catch this guy?"

There was a pause, as Ford visibly cringed. "Well, that's the hard part. Grey won't be completely invisible. I'm pretty sure I may have a device or two that might be able to pick him up at medium range, key words being may and might: I'm not sure how much I ended up leaving behind on the garage workbench. Good news is, he'll probably easier to spot at close he wants to record some footage of you suffering in detail, sooner or later-"

"He'll get close to me."

"Exactly."

"What if he's been listening in and already knows what we're gonna do? Or what if he doesn't have a cure – just some kind of forcefield?"

"He might be nearly invisible, but that doesn't mean he can hear literally everything we've been saying, not without getting close enough to be noticed. Just keep your voice low, and we'll be fie. And if he does have a forcefield, then it's all over… but I'm hoping he won't have taken that risk. After all, what would he do if the forcefield broke down?"

"Fair enough. But what about robots? You said this is a job he'd have to do without getting his hands dirty. What if he's got an android army or something to help with that, or keep himself safe from the Wasps?"

"Even if he would have such a thing with him, he'd never have a chance to use it. Forger Wasps despise artificial intelligence with a passion: robots, sentient computers, synthetic humans, non-organics… they're a form of sapient life the Wasps can't convert, and that infuriates them beyond all reason. Any androids planted within their territory would have been smashed to pieces long before they could be activated." He shook his head sadly. "Just like my own attempts at building robots. McGucket's own mechanical simulacra will have probably met a similar fate; shame, too, we could really use a Gobblewonker right about now."

He thought for a moment and added, "There's one other rule you need to know: it's customary for operatives of the Retribution Squad to gloat, but only once victory is guaranteed. It might help… but I'd rather not imagine what you might have to do to make that happen."

Several seconds went by in silence.

"I think my hair's getting longer."

And so it was, a long mane of chestnut-brown hair cascading down the back of Ford's increasingly scrawny neck and over his ever-loosening collar.

"We don't have much time left…"

With all of Gravity Falls fully conquered and its borders secure from intrusion, the Forger Wasps surged beyond the confines of the town: with Mabel's memories and those of everyone who had explored the forests at their disposal, they knew exactly where to look for new victims.

Their first target was gnome territory; just as they'd taken the golf course, they lured the inhabitants out with a single Mabel. The moment they arrived to meet their friend, hero and one-time Queen, the Mabels swarmed over the gnomes, capturing hundreds of them and infestation thousands more. With smaller bodies, the infestation took much less time to progress through the gnomes, and in a matter of minutes, the fleeing stragglers were already well on their way to full conversion. In seconds, they were attacking their fellows and converting them as well.

Halfway through the attack, Jeff and Schmebulock managed to rally the survivors for a last stand against the invaders, but even their mighty colossus couldn't stand up to the Mabels: running at full speed, a platoon of the duplicates took out the gnomes that formed its legs, tackling them away or simply kicking the aside. As soon as the giant gestalt collapsed, the rest of the horde swarmed over it, claiming Jeff first; without a leader, the other gnomes were left helpless and easily infested. Perhaps some of them enjoyed the advantage of larger frames in their few seconds of consciousness, perhaps they didn't; it mattered little to the Wasps and even less to their Queen.

The enchanted glade was next. Fortunately, the unicorns had heard of the attacks on the gnome settlements and refused to open their gates, even when the Mabels tried to appeal to the alliance they'd shared during Weirdmageddon. Unfortunately, they hadn't counted on Grabel being able mimic the traditional chant perfectly. With several hundred thousand hosts on their side, the Forger Wasps overran the glade in seconds, infesting every last unicorn, satyr, and other supernatural being inhabitant. Even Celestabellebethabelle couldn't run fast enough to escape them. Altering unicorn physiology to human form was difficult and painful, especially with disassembling the mass of the extra legs and hindquarters, but the Forger Wasps were nothing if not adaptable.

After that, they moved on to the Manotaurs, Dipper's memory easily guiding them all the way to their caves. The horn-headed men proved challenging opponents once they started using clubs instead of their bare hands, but Dipper had known had they fought, how to outsmart them and how to goad them on: it only took a little effort – plus a few emasculating insinuations – to get them to drop their guard and take the bait. Shrinking down a few tons of Manotaur to Mabel size took much longer than the conversion of any human, gnome or lilliputtian, but the rich depths of pain and humiliation inherent in each one made the conquest all the sweeter.

At the centre of the telepathic web of connections, the Queen looked on with amusement as each individual was slowly absorbed into the swarm. From another angle, she observed Mabel own memories streaming into perspective, watching her progress through the darkest woods and deepest reaches. Mabel had no knowledge of that region of the forest, and with the hive still assimilating the memories of the few creatures that had dared to intrude upon the dense undergrowth and tightly-packed trees, it was impossible to work out where she was at the moment. However, the Queen knew that Stanford Pines was trying to warn her about the Grey Professional, the man her Dam had called "Agent Amontillado."

For a time, she briefly considered warning the Professional of this conversation. But then she thought again. If her charming benefactor were to falter and fail, then his gear would belong to them – including his dimensional teleporter and the forg . The means by which the Retribution Squad travelled the multiverse would be within her grasp, and from there, any world imaginable: she could spread her infestation beyond this reality, to every single parallel world and alternate universe within reach of the Squad, and maybe even beyond that.

In time, she could even make her way into the dominions of other great Forger Wasp Queens, those who had made entire universes their nests. Their kingdoms no doubt seemed unassailable, but how quickly they could fall when arrayed against a fellow Queen, and quicker still when against a Queen armed with the might of two or three or even four universes! Oh, the conquests that would await her then! The doors to total supremacy across the entire multiverse might well be open to her…

So for now, she would allow Ford and Mabel's interference in the Grey Professional's plans, so long as it would benefit her.

By now, over a hundred thousand infested bodies were under her command – and all this just from one small town and its surrounding woods. How many could she recruit from the surrounding villages and their supernatural communities? Certainly, Gravity Falls was not the only settlement with a magical populace, only one of the biggest and most prosperous.

Soon, the world beyond this sad little county would be within her reach.

Soon, it would all be hers.

It was past midnight now, at least as far as they knew.

Ford's watch had slipped off his undersized wrist a while ago and Mabel had left her own watch back at the Mystery Shack. They had no idea where they were anymore – for all they knew, they'd left Roadkill County behind a long time ago. All they could tell was the trees were so dense they were having trouble manoeuvring in anything other than single file.

And they had to walk side by side now, because Ford was no longer capable of walking unassisted.

In the last few minutes alone, he'd lost almost two feet in height, shrinking down until he was almost at eye level with Mabel. Right now, with his gigantic coat, shirt sleeves hanging over his hands, trailing pant legs and shoes dangling off his feet, he looked more like a kid dressing up in his dad's work clothes. Of course, it'd be fairer to say he looked uncannily like Mabel playing dress-ups: his hair now almost hip-length, and there was almost nothing left of his familiar features except for a faint squareness of the jaw and those ever-inquisitive eyes. On the upside, it was now a lot easier to help Ford along now that he was close to her height. Unfortunately, this could only mean that their time was almost up.

With a groan of pain, Ford finally pitched forward out of Mabel's grasp and collapsed against a tree – which he promptly slid down, all the way to the dirt. "The metal plate in my head," he gasped. "It's gone."

"What?"

"It just… dissolved. The Forger-Wasp in me must have been eroding it on a molecular level and expelling it along with my shed mass over the last few hours, but it's not until now that I felt the last of it vanish." He laughed deliriously. "Talk about a weight off my mind. Ah, but now I'm hearing a lot of voices from outside – thousands of them, and one louder and more powerful than all the others, issuing commands across all of Gravity Falls."

"Does that mean-?"

"Yes. I'm being incorporated into the hive mind. In other words, it's pretty much over for me now. And I've run out of things to say… but I can still help in a few small ways here and there." He reached into a pocket of his coat and held out a pair of heavy goggles. "This is the one device I have left that might be able to detect Grey: he still has a recognizable energy signature, even with all his concealment. But remember, he has to be very close by."

"But I can't-"

"Yes you can, Mabel. Now, there's one other thing I can do for you. Do I still have my left boot? I can't feel my feet anymore."

Without saying a word, Mabel plucked the boot off Ford's now child-sized foot and handed it to him. Flipping it upside down, the old scientist reached into the heel and opened a hidden compartment: inside lay three small vials of translucent liquid and one syringe. Then, with as much dexterity as his trembling hands could allow, he began preparing an injection – using all three vials.

"I thought you didn't have any more anti-parasite serum," said Mabel.

Ford chuckled wearily. "It's not serum. It's… well, it's an anaesthetic."

"…what?"

"It's normally only enough to keep me going through serious injuries, but all three vials… all three vials will probably be enough to knock me out. With the Forger Wasp's physiology taking over, it won't last long, but it'll be enough to keep me down for at least half an hour after my conversation is complete."

"You mean-"

"It's my last lifeline to you. This way, I can give you enough time to escape me; by the time the new me is up and about, you'll be far, far away. And with any luck, you'll have already found Grey and stolen his stockpile of cure, and all this nonsense will be over and done with."

With the syringe now full, he absently searched for a vein on his left arm, and with shaking, sweat-soaked fingers, injected himself. "There," he sighed. "It's done. Now go: no long goodbyes, please, Mabel. We'll see each other again soon, hopefully without the Forger Wasps around."

He offered her an encouraging smile that almost managed to rally Mabel's flagging morale for a few seconds. She almost set off, almost forced herself to start walking, but at the last minute, doubt hit an override switch.

"I can't do this," she said quietly. She was crying now, despite her best efforts to hold back the tears.

"Yes, you can. You've fought against worse threats than this before, Mabel: you've been pitted against enemies that would have unmade the world. I don't doubt your skill or you conviction for a minute, and neither should you. Besides, you've got everything you need to stop this. Just think of this as round two: you aced the first round, and now-"

"No I didn't!" Mabel almost shrieked, her deeply-buried self-loathing bubbling noisily to the surface. "I can't fix this, Grunkle Ford, not after I helped ruin it in the first place! Dabel tricked me into helping them start the apocalypse, and I've only been making things worse! I never help anyone, I just make things worse!"

For a moment or so, she could only sob helplessly… and suddenly, she couldn't keep her silence a moment longer, even with her shame still digging into her.

"Grunkle Ford," she said, gradually steadying her voice despite her tears. "There's something you need to know about me: I haven't told anyone else about this, but you need to hear it – because this is why I'm only going to make this worse if you let me. Weirdmageddon didn't happen because the rift broke open in my backpack, but-"

"Because you gave the rift to Bill while he was disguised as Blendin Blandin," said Ford without missing a beat.

Mabel blinked, suddenly too shocked to cry. "You knew?"

"Of course. I'm tapped into the hive mind now, Mabel: the Forger Wasps have access to every single memory you possess, and now that I'm slowly becoming one of them, I'm allowed to partake of that knowledge… in my final moments." He smiled sadly. "Bill made you an offer, just like he did with me. He disguised his nature by pretending to be your friend, just like he did with me. And you genuinely thought nobody would be hurt… just like me."

"I'm sorry. I'm just… so sorry-"

"Don't be. You've got nothing to be sorry for, Mabel: Nobody blames you for what happened. It wasn't your fault; Bill was the one who tricked you and broke the rift."

"But it is my fault! I tried to pretend nothing happened, I tried to pretend I didn't remember how the rift broke, and for a while, I even tried to trick myself into thinking it wasn't all because of me… but that's what Dabel wanted! That's what the Forger Wasps wanted me to think, so I wouldn't think to stop them before it was too late."

Ford sighed, eyes beginning to droop ever-so-slightly. "So, you fell for their lies just as you fell for Bill's. You made mistakes. You trusted the wrong people. And maybe you even behaved a little thoughtlessly under the circumstances. But you know what that makes you, Mabel? It makes you just like Dipper, like Stanley, like me. It makes you human. We want to think we're invincible, infallible, immortal and so many other words starting with 'I', but we're not. And there's nothing wrong with that."

"But still, I didn't tell anyone about what I did. I kept it a secret… because I was afraid of what Dipper would say. He'd hate me for this-"

"No, he wouldn't. And I'm not guessing, Mabel. I know. I can feel the minds of all the others assimilated into the Forger Wasp's hive: the knowledge has been spread to all their sleeping minds, and in their dreams, they all know about what you did… and they've all forgiven you. Dipper, Wendy, Soos, Stan, and everyone in Gravity Falls. Nobody in this town could blame you after everything you did to help them."

In spite of herself, Mabel actually felt her heart give a little wobble of emotion at this. "Really?" she asked. "You can actually feel all that?"

"Of course. I'm…"

His eyelids fluttered. "Wow," he gasped. "Finally kicking in. Took a while to work its way through the Forger Wasp's neural fibres, but it's getting to me. Probably no more than a minute left. I… I should probably tell you start running now and spare the sentiments, but… I want you to know, just in case this doesn't work, that you're still a good person."

"Ford-"

"And you'll always be a much better person than me." He laughed. "Setting the bar pretty low, I admit. But however this ends, I'm glad I met you; it's been a privilege to be a Grunkle to you and Dipper… even if it did take me a while to start acting the part…"

Ford took a hoarse, shallow breath, his eyelids fluttering wildly. He was almost her, now, just a year removed from her current age, his diminished body swimming in his now-gigantic clothes.

"Just one other thing, Mabel," he gasped. "If all else fails, he has to believe he's won. Make him believe he's won. Absolute last resort."

"What do you mean?"

"You'll know. You'll know it all soon." He smiled in spite of himself, and reassuringly squeezed Mabel's hand. "You can do this. You don't have to worry about a thing. I… I meant it when I said I was proud of y-"

His eyes widened, as if in surprise. Then he sank back to the ground, his eyes fluttering shut, body going slack as the sedative caught with him and he lapsed into unconsciousness. Finally, as Mabel looked on in horror, the last infinitesimal vestiges of Stanford Pines slowly faded away, until all that remained was another replica of Mabel, lying in clothes several sizes too big for her.

Grunkle Ford was gone.

In his place, Fabel lay fast asleep, just waiting to awaken and spread the plague.

For a moment, Mabel thought she was going to start crying again. But then the moment passed and took the incoming storm of tears with it: suddenly, all the sorrow and all the guilt she'd been feeling were gone, scooped out of her as with a shovel. She was calm – perfectly and unnaturally calm.

Had Dipper felt this way after Bill had petrified Ford, or had he felt completely lost? He'd never spoken of that time, and if she got out of this one alive and free, Mabel wouldn't either… but still, she'd have to get that far first.

She stood, dried her eyes, fitted the goggles over her eyes, drew her grappling hook, and began the long, slow march into the forest - eyes peeled for the glow of something not-quite visible.

Let the hunt begin...

A/N: This soundtrack's soundtrack is Liquid Light by Jessica Curry.

And now for the code!

Zmw mld blf'ev olhg blfi urmzo uirvmw
Blf'w yvhg yvorvev blf'ev ivzxsvw gsv vmw
Dsb mlg trev rm zmw xlnv yzxp slnv
Uli mld rg hvvnh blf'iv zoo zolmv