The night struggled to return to normalcy. Marshall insisted that she have fun and play BMO, while he watched over her shoulder. He was strangely quiet and pensive, and it worried her, but he would press his face to her shoulder in a kind of reassuring way every once in a while, so she didn't push him for answers.

Things were different between them. It was clear. They were not children anymore, and there were shadows of the real world over them both. Fionna wondered about her feelings, as Marshall fretted over the recent interaction with The Hand. As Fionna continued to play, he became more and more entwined with her. At first slipping his arms around her, then burying his head in the crook of her neck. He lavished in the comfort of her, fighting off the unpleasantness of the earlier happening.

But no amount of human warmth or Battle Castle could set him at ease. The words of The Hand echoed in his mind.

He hadn't thought about his mom, or at least, he had tried very hard not to. And why, was very clear. He was unstable already and barely keeping himself together. There was no room in his brain to quell over the feelings of his departed and estranged mother.

But now that the subject had been raised, Marshall found that he could not push it back down.

What had happened to his mom? What powerful creature could have ended her life? Did she fight? Was it painful? Did she… think of him?

"Marshall?" Fionna inquired. He had zoned out completely, and Fionna had been watching his brows flicker with unspoken thoughts. He blinked them away.

"Yeah?" He responded, with a small smile. Fionna did not return it.

"You seem like you're thinking about stuff."

"I am." He responded curtly. "And I don't wanna talk about it."

Fionna narrowed her eyes at him.

"Fine. But you're acting weird. When you're ready to spill the beans, just let me know."

She resumed her game, and Marshall sighed. Now that she had called him out for being weird it was clear that nothing would resolve unless something was done.

He sighed again, imagining horrific scenarios of his mother's last living seconds. Perhaps it was better to know, than to imagine.

"Fionna…" He mumbled. She turned her ear towards him. "I think I've got to go do something…"

It wasn't that Fionna hated the Nightospere, it was just that she felt so out of place there. People didn't make sense, and everything seemed geared to make her feel uneasy. Particularly now that she had smooched the King of the Nightospere.

They walked towards the Night Castle, Marshall leading and looking back at her as she followed. He had insisted on wearing his sunhat, as he still wished to remain anonymous to the citizens meandering around. Anyways, it was Fionna who attracted the most attention. A Human in the Nightosphere.

"No one mentioned to me there would be a Pot Luck today. I should've made potato salad." One citizen teased as she passed.

"Ignore them." Marshall whispered back to her. "They just want to get a rise out of you."

Fionna clung tighter as the Castle loomed closer. And then, horrifically, she saw the very thing the Hand had warned them about. The sky split open like the lid of an eye, and a goopy old eyeball whirled around in its socket, watching the Nightosphere below. The citizens ignored it, as if unaffected, but Marshall stopped suddenly to watch as it stared right at him.

"You've got the sword?" He called back to Fionna.

"Yeah." She said, holding the hilt closer.

"Good." He started walking again, trying not to shiver as Golb's eyeball traced him across the landscape. Marshall did not want to fight that thing. Not now, and not ever. But if he had to… he would have to give it his best shot.

When finally at the castle gates, Marshall looked back up to the sky to find that the eye had gone.

"I thought I smelled a human." Called a voice from a window above.

They both looked up to see The Hand leaning out to watch them. "You saw the eye?" Xe asked.

"Yeah." Marshall responded softly.

"And it saw you?"

"Yeah."

"Good." Said The Hand, and disappeared back into to castle. Moments later, xe reemerged from the front door to unlock the gate.

They walked inside, and the Castle was barren of all furniture.

"Looters." Explained The Hand. "There was a bit of an uprising when the throne was left unguarded."

Marshall said nothing as they walked down the echoing emptiness of the hallway. Fionna following silently after him.

They turned the corner, and furniture began to reappear.

"My quarters." Explained The Hand.

Xe showed them to a small sitting area with a sofa almost equally as uncomfortably looking as the one in Marshall's house.

"So…?" The Hand asked, as both Marshall and Fionna sat down. "You're here to tour your future home?"

"Glob no!" Marshall groaned. "I'm here because… I want to know."

Fionna watched Marshall with interest as she tried to wiggle her butt into a comfortable position on the sofa.

"About your mom…?" Finished The Hand. "What do you want to know?"

"Who, and how?!" Marshall demanded. The question came out more passionately than he would have liked. Already the sword was vibrating at Fionna's side with growing unease. She pressed her palm to the blade, and the vibrating quieted.

The Hand watched carefully with their large and searching eyes.

"I did, with that blade." Xe said nodding towards the sword. Marshall's face paled. Was this a joke? "Trust me, it wasn't easy. I tried several times before it worked."

Marshall and the sword took to shaking as he began to feel overwhelmed with rising emotion.

"What?" He managed to speak through his teeth. The blade leaked some chaos into the room and Marshall, becoming a vessel for it, absorbed it with growing fury. His hair began to thicken and stick out of his skin. His eyes began to redden and bulge. But the Hand knew what they were doing, and waited patiently until more and more chaos became absorbed within Marshall. Just as it seemed he was about to break and then relieved him with the next confusing statement.

"She had asked me to, you see. I couldn't not follow orders."

Almost immediately, Marshall's hair fell flat, and his eyes turned beady.

Fionna held firmly onto the hilt, in some small attempt to comfort the sword while she listened with interest to their interaction.

A suicide?

"Why?" Marshall asked, deflated. He was familiar with the feeling of wanting to die, yet he had never imagined that his mother suffered from the same condition. How had he not known? Why hadn't he seen the signs…?

"Well. You can go ask that yourself." Said The Hand. "I just don't think you would understand if it came from me."

There was a silence in the room only broken by the random screams and chaotic cacophony outside of the window. The normal songbirds of the Nightosphere.

"Are you playing with me?" Asked Marshall, skeptically.

"A little, I will admit. But I'm serious about seeing your mother. Although, the land of the dead is not my favorite, and fleshy here might want to stay behind." Xe said in reference to Fionna.

"Been there, done that." Fionna waved off nonchalantly. "I'm coming with."

"You've been to the land of the dead?" Marshall asked her, interested.

"Peppermint Maid made me promise not to tell…" She began to explain.

"Well, then it's settled." The Hand said finally. "Road trip to the dead."