"I'm so happy, 'cause today I found my friends.

(They're in my head.)"


CW: Some brief suicidal imagery


Chance's eyes groggily opened. He felt sore, and sick to his stomach; did he drink last night? No… wait, he fought someone last night. Yeah. Some stuff was said, he blacked out, was… the space stuff was a dream, right?

The cobwebs of his brain slowly clearing away, Chance opened his eyes to see where he was laying down.

"...Hmph. About time you woke up, Trickster."

His face was inches away from Rosanna's.

Chance screamed, flailing out of bed and crashing into the hard floor with a pained yelp. The blanket tangled around his legs as he tried to sit up, cradling his sore back where he landed.

Rosanna rose up from the bed - her bed again, he realized - and strolled around the bed, her fingers tracing the bedsheets. "Forgive us, but this was the only bed suitable for you. Hopefully, you will not make a habit of passing out in our territory, lest this problem persist in the future."

Chance sputtered, before shaking his head. He pointed at her accusingly, "Bullshit! There's no fucking way that this is the only available bed twice in a row! What's your deal?!"

Rosanna turned away, dodging his question. "We'll be expecting you in the Throne Room. Don't make us wait for long."

He tried to scramble to his feet, only for the blanket around his legs to trip him and send him tumbling back to the floor. "H-Hey! Get BACK here! ROSANNA!"

She closed the door behind her.

"What the FUCK?!"


The bonfires had smoldered out hours ago. The crowds had dispersed into a sparse few, and the atmosphere felt like a hangover, one without Chance even having to drink.

He swigged one glass of the weird blackberry champagne stuff and felt nothing. Could you get hangovers from getting your ass beat? Or was that just a generic sore feeling in the morning? If he'd ever woken up hungover before, he didn't have any memory of it left, so he wouldn't know.

"Your ability to recover from such a punishing battle so quickly astounds me. Are you certain you're alright, however?"

Lightfoot, always a soldier, was one of the few who was up at this hour. He was helping guide Chance back down to the Throne Room, where he was apparently expected.

Chance rubbed at his eyes, staggering over. "Mh? O-Oh, yeah, yeah, I'm just uh… Still a little sore'n the brain, y'know?"

Lightfoot looked at him funny, but seemed to let his excuse slide. They kept walking.

"Your defeat of the Lords was… unconventional, yet even then, is no achievement to balk at. I imagine the rest of the tribe thinks more highly of you now, despite the chaos you've wrought." he paused at a door into the Throne Room, and gave a sideways glance at Chance.

"All things considered, you should feel proud."

Apparently, "pride" was the feeling of your legs wanting to give out. Pride was feeling ghost pains of wounds that were no longer there. Pride was laying back, wondering if it ever really happened, and in some weird way, almost wishing it never did.

But he was past that shit now. Whatever.

"Mhm, yeah, I'm… Er... Yeah."

Lightfoot looked at him - what, was there a bruise still on his face? - and pushed the door open, leading them into the Throne Room. The place was empty, quiet; a far cry from the roaring crowds that filled the entire massive room yesterday. It was almost eerie how silent it had become.

Well, there was one voice still here.

"Oooh, you're so smalland huggable…little tiny warrior, I could hug you aaaalllll daaayy~"

Chance and Lightfoot both paused. They looked at each other funny, before approaching the Throne Room with more caution.

"Yooou're my braaave liiiitle kiiiiight, you're so smaaaaaalll… I love you soooo so so so muuuuch, my little baby, I could hooold you~"

Chance risked a peek around a corner to spy on Cecilia, standing alone near the thrones. She was holding something small in her arms, hugging it closely as she practically danced around, an expression of content euphoria on her face.

Lightfoot, ignoring the way Chance was trying to be subtle, approached her. "M-My Lord?"

"Eep-!" Cecelia jumped at the voice, and spun around to look at Lightfoot and Chance. Facing them, Chance could more clearly see that the bundle in her arms was…

"...Tusk?"

The small knight was curled up in Cecilia's arms, a small cloth wrapped around their horns to resemble the thick, blue horns of a Mantis. Expressionless as they were, maybe Chance was imagining it, but he could've sworn he felt an aura of content relaxation surrounding Tusk. They were probably loving every second of being doted on.

Lightfoot looked awkwardly to the side. "Er… M-may I ask what you are doing, my Lord?"

"O-Oh, er…!" Rosanna looked between Lightfoot and Tusk, before quickly grabbing her spear. "J-Just a bit of last-second training! I wanted to make sure they were all set for their trip into Deepnest, of course!"

Chance blinked. "R-Right…" He rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. "Uhh, what's Deepnest?"


It was quiet, dead quiet. Decomposing corpses littered the ground, spears coated in dried blood plunged into the ground around them. Some were fresher than others; this wasn't a skirmish, this was an endless war.

Thick cobwebs covered every surface, loose strands of silk running up and down the walls. The pitch-black shadows seemed to stretch on endlessly.

Something skittered in the dark. Many, many somethings skittered away from what little light filtered in.

A dark howl echoed through the cave, the webs waving in the wind as something rushed forward from the darkness, reaching out from the cavern's shadowy maw-

Chance blinked as a gust of wind blew past him, his scarf sailing behind him for a moment before settling back down over his shoulder. He stared into the dark a bit longer, dumbstruck.

With a wave of her hand, the massive door slammed shut, and Rosanna turned to face him.

"And that, Trickster," she said, "is your reward for victory."

He kept staring blankly at the now-closed gate, as though expecting it to come flying open again, still trying to process what he saw. Hallownest was inhospitable at best and a living hell at worst, but just from a glance, it was apparent that Deepnest was on a whole different level. Every last inch of that place would be a nightmare to go through; he wouldn't catch a break until he got out entirely.

"Of course, you have also gained the respect of our Tribe. You are welcome within our Village whenever you please, as an honoured guest," Oasis added, her tone formal, yet pleased. Was she glad that Chance and Tusk beat her and her sisters in a fight to earn the Tribe's respect? Or was she just glad she wouldn't need to deal with his bullshit for much longer? Could it be both?

"U-Uhh… Y-Yeah…" Chance said, absent-minded. He couldn't peel his eyes from the literal gates of hell before him.

He wouldn't call himself arachnophobic. If he saw a spider in the house, he was the kind of guy to pick it up in a paper towel and carry it outside, or at worst, calmly squash it and send it down the toilet. He wasn't scared of spiders in the same way some people were.

But a dark, cramped tunnel, filled with giant spiders…

In some form of escapism, his mind wandered elsewhere. The horrors awaiting him in Deepnest were the last thing he wanted on his mind.

"As well as having access to our Village and Deepnest, the Lords of the Mantis Tribe would also like to award you this Mark of Pride. It is a sacred symbol of honor within our village, and one we feel you have earned." In Oasis's hand, she held out a familiar rust-brown charm, the same one that Tusk had yoinked before their first attempt to fight the Lord Sisters.

"We… uh… already got that."

"Oh." Oasis moved back, seeming to understand his and Tusk's previous thieving tendencies. "Well, we shall keep this one, then."

Fuck.

"O-Oh, and before I forget!" Cecilia spoke up, having been bashfully quiet this entire conversation. "The Sunset Festival has been extended another day in celebration of your victory! If you'd like to join the festivities proper, and take a break-"

"A break," Chance interrupted.

Cecilia blinked. "I- Y-Yes, you would be welcome to celebrate with us without fear of-"

"I'm gonna take a break."

Rosanna squinted. "I-I'm sorry?"

Chance's stare was blank as he turned around, walking towards the exit of the Throne Room. "I'm… I'm going back to Dirtmouth. For a day. ...I need a break."

None of the Lords moved to stop him as he clambered up the wall towards the exit, moving almost on autopilot. They, along with Lightfoot and Tusk, merely stared silently as the human climbed out of view.

"...Er… S-Should we be worried about him?" Cecilia asked.

Oasis furrowed her brow. "I'm… sure he's fine. ...Lightfoot, could you… check on him?"

Lightfoot didn't even turn to look at them, only staring where Chance was. "A-At once, My Lords."


"...Do you truly have time to be taking a break, Chance?"

Chance rubbed his temples together. "I don't know. Don't remind me, I… I dunno. I need this, Lightfoot. Just one night to myself and I should be good to keep going. I'll go crazy if I don't take a breather."

Lightfoot crossed his arms. "Lord Cecilia told you the Festival's been extended. You could take your break here, you know."

Chance shook his head. "It's a nice offer, but… Honestly, I don't think I'll really be able to relax here. I need'ta rest my head somewhere quiet. Just me, Tusk, 'n Jeremy. It'll be fine." He was still dying. It wasn't the smartest tactical decision, sure. But Chance was getting really fucking sick of having to be tactical.

Lightfoot's brow furrowed as he paused. "You continue to allude to this… 'Jeremy' figure…"

"He's a bit shy. Oh, have you seen him anywhere? I don't wanna leave him behind."

Lightfoot did not respond, so Chance just shrugged and kept walking. He couldn't be far; they'd catch up soon. They continued to walk through the Village, more Mantises waking up and the news of the Festival's extension beginning to spread throughout. This place would get packed again soon; the sooner he left, the better.

"Well… if you must leave now, then there is something I would like to let you know first. Follow me."

Chance turned his head, and Lightfoot was already striding in another direction. Not wanting to be left behind, he threw up his hands and ran to catch up. It took a few odd turns and some more practice climbing with his Mantis Claws, but he and Lightfoot eventually reached a gate.

"I should preface by saying that I am technically not allowed to be doing this."

That got Chance's attention. Lightfoot? Breaking the rules? Impossible. ...Well, not impossible, considering how the uptight Mantis wound up on the Village outskirts where they first met, but that seemed pretty conditional.

Lightfoot continued, "The Tribe has never been… connected, to the civilization of Hallownest's crown. We did not follow their customs or concepts. We all provide for each other in our Tribe, and thus, we have never had a need for Geo."

Chance, who had been leaning against a wall with his arms crossed, stood up straight. "Don't tell me…"

"We only have a supply of Geo stashed away for the sake of negotiations with Hallownest. However, with the current state of the kingdom, it has served no purpose other than taking up space."

Lightfoot opened the door, and Chance's orange eyes beamed.

Heaps upon heaps of Geo all piled up, filling the whole room. It wasn't a large room, but it was filled with a hoard of Geo, all collecting dust. Light flooded in from the crack of the opened door, reflecting off of the shiny surface of the tiny rocks.

"Despite its uselessness, the Sisters are quite adamant about keeping at least a fair stash. However, I'm certain they would not mind a small fraction of it parting with you, Chance."


Five thousand Geo.

It was only a few handfuls out of the Lord's wealth, but it was still miles better than anything they'd had up to this point. In addition with what they already had, plus from some chests they'd found in the Sanctum, they had just shy of six thousand now.

It wouldn't save his life, but he'd take any lucky breaks he could get.

Including the one where he fucked off for a day.

"Are you not even going to let us give you a proper send-off? Mother is still sleeping, I'm sure she'd be upset to know you left without-"

"No, no," Chance said hurriedly. "I shouldn't- I don't have to- I really should get going," he waved his hands, dismissing Lightfoot's concerns. He didn't need to see Rio; not right now, anyway. "Besides, I'll be back tomorrow, anyway." He'll burn that bridge when he gets there.

Lightfoot stopped him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "And you will be back tomorrow, yes?"

"I… Yeah?"

"You're certain? You will take your break, and then return here tomorrow to resume searching for a cure to the Infection?"

"Y-Yeah, why do you ask?" Chance blinked; Lightfoot was getting weirdly specific. Did he want something?

Lightfoot let go, stepping back. "There is… something I would like to ask of you, when you return. I did not offer that Geo to bribe or coerce you; this would be a separate favor."

"W-Well, what is it? Why not tell me now?"

"No. It is better suited for when you return, I would reckon," Lightfoot said, crossing his arms.

Chance could only stare at him.


"C-Chaaance!"

He stumbled as a mass of cloth crashed into his back and embraced him. Tusk, walking a few paces ahead, stopped and turned. "J-Jay...?" He looked over his shoulder, pulling the figure's hood down to reveal Jeremy's pouting face. Two soft antennae flopped forward, tickling Chance's hair.

"Wh-Where'd you go last night?! I looked everywhere for you and nobody I asked was telling me anything a-and Rio and Tusk were gone to a-a-and-"

"Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm sorry I worried you," Chance consoled him, motioning to pull Jeremy over so that they were facing each other properly. Normally, his closeness would be uncomfortable to him, but he'd started to accept Jeremy's clinginess as a part of him, and almost found it endearing, if a bit worrying.

"A-A-Are you okay?! You're not still hurt or anything, are you? Are you-"

"I'm fine, Jay," Chance laughed. Before he realized it, he was patting Jeremy on the head. "Though, uh, I think it's about time I take a breather. Tusk and I are heading back up to Dirtmouth to regroup for a bit; wanna come with?"

"O-Of course!" Jeremy's eyes lit up, before his brow furrowed. "Wait, what's Dirtmouth…?"

Chance threw his arm around Jeremy's shoulders. "Oh, I think you'll like it up there. C'mon, there's a Stag Station up this way we can take." As they walked, Tusk walked up to Chance and tugged on his pant leg, and Chance crouched down to pick up the small knight, cradling him in one arm while keeping the other around Jeremy's shoulder.

Jeremy paused at the mention of the Stag Stations. "A-Are those things still active, even…?"

And as they marched forward, none of them looked back at the Mantis Village behind them, nor did any of them notice the flash of red, moving to a new hiding place as she watched them.


The queasiness Jeremy felt from the Stag ride was soon replaced with a quiet awe. He strolled through Chance's house in Dirtmouth, careful with every step, as though the house could come tumbling down with one sudden breath. He traced his claws along furniture, let his eyes linger on the bookshelves and decorations, letting the cool, soft atmosphere soak into him.

Tusk pitter-pattered through the house, their footsteps like nearly inaudible rainfall, hopping around in excitement but also being careful not to disturb the place. They jumped up on the couch - cushioned bench? - and curled up for a few moments, before they jumped off and climbed up on a chair by the dining table. They glanced around, as though expecting a meal to manifest on the table before them. When this didn't happen, they slid off the chair back to the floor and practically twirled around the room.

Chance heaved the door shut behind them, dropped his heavy jacket and satchel on the floor, his shoulders slouched, and made an immediate beeline for his bedroom. Sometimes, only one night of sleep wasn't enough.

"Chance, you… you live here?" He couldn't tell if the awe in Jeremy's voice was from how nice his house was, or amazement that anyone could actually live in such a decrepit place. Cleaning it was never his top priority.

"I mean, if I'm being honest, I'm squatting here. None'a this stuff's actually mine," Chance leaned against the doorframe to his bedroom. God, his shoulders and back were so sore; his bed wasn't a cloud, but it was better than most beds in Hallownest, apparently. "This town's damn near empty, and I needed a place to stay, so the elder just let me pick a place."

"The elder?"

"Oh, Elderbug. He's a nice guy, you might like him," Chance said over his shoulder as he turned to his room and promptly collapsed into his bed, face-first into the pillows. Not a cloud, but damn did it feel like one compared to the rock floors he'd been blacking out on.

Jeremy watched Chance pass out on his bed with a whump!, his lips pursed awkwardly. Well, what was he supposed to do now? If Chance was half as tired as he seemed, then he fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillows. He wasn't about to go snooping around his house, nor did he want to run off…

Tusk, despite being full of energy, seemed to follow Chance's example and catapulted themselves onto his bed with him, cuddling up in Chance's barely-conscious embrace.

Jeremy's brow furrowed. Was… Should he try to sleep, too? He didn't see any other bedrooms, and he could tell at a glance that he wouldn't get a wink on that poor excuse for a couch.

Without really thinking about it, his feet were taking him into Chance's bedroom, and he sat down on the edge of the bed. He felt the way the plush mattress sunk in under his weight, the way the sheets felt as he traced them gingerly with his claws, the way Chance's dirty clothes felt in contract, how much thinner he seemed without that bulky jacket, the warmth of his skin-

Jeremy quickly stood up from the bed.

He'd… cook something! Yeah. He'd cook something for when Chance woke up soon. He'd appreciate that, right? He even had that recipe he found in the Soul Sanctum, 'Honeyed Tiktik roasted with Sunshrooms.' It was an easy enough recipe, surely even Chance had all the ingredients for it!

As he wandered out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets, he pursed his lips. Okay, he may need to find a few substitutes…

"So this is where you've been staying. Interesting."

Jeremy spun around with a yelp, the pans he's been carrying in his arms clattering to the floor. The clamorous noise made him yelp again, his arms flailing as he whirled around, his eyes darting from the mess on the floor, to Chance and Tusk who he most definitely just woke up, to the intruder in their home.

"H-H-H-Hornet?!" Jeremy sputtered out, wrapping his arms around himself as he backpedaled into a wall.

Hornet looked taken aback by his extreme reaction. She tensed up at the chaotic sound, regarding the pile of iron and silverware on the floor. "...Hello, Jeremy," she spoke in her usual reserved tone.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, at least until Jeremy stopped panicking.

"U-U-U-Uh, H-Hi, Hornet!" Jeremy stammered, crouching down to quickly scoop up the pans. "You, uhhh, you s-startled me! Whaaaat're you, uh, d-doing heeere?"

Did she tail us from the Village?! Jeremy thought in a panic. Did Chance know Hornet? Did Tusk know Hornet, either? Wait, no, he mentioned he did in the Sanctum, right? His mind was rushing so fast he couldn't get it to stop and think.

Hornet walked through Chance's house, taking in the atmosphere much in the same way he had before, though she didn't seem very impressed. "...Have you even bothered to clean in here?"

"U-Uhhhm, I've been… cooking!" Jeremy said, holding up all of the pans in his arms. "Cooking, yes!" He was telling the truth, why was his voice cracking?!

Hornet's mask did not show much emotion, but she sounded like her brow was furrowed. "...Cooking."

"Y-Yeah! Honeyed Tiktik and Sunshrooms! We have all the ingredients, o-or all the important ones anyway, except-" His attention was taken off of Hornet as he blinked, horror dawning on him. "A-Ah! We don't have any Tiktik substitutes! No, no, no, what should I do?! Make something else? No, we don't have any good bases at all, I can't just cook mushrooms, I-"

"Are you truly panicking over cooking?" Hornet asked, a strained exasperation in her voice.

Jeremy paused, feeling his heart rate decelerate. "...Y-You know what, you're right!" He put on a smile, putting his fists on his hips. "I shouldn't be worrying about something so small!"

He turned to Hornet, a bright, warm smile on his face. "...T-Thanks for keeping me grounded there, Hornet."

Hornet stared at him, mystified. "...Of course," she said curtly, turning away from him. Something about her tone, her posture, seemed a bit odd to Jeremy, but he didn't question it.

He turned back to the cabinet. "Now, with a clearer head, what else could I try making without a Tiktik? We don't have any meat here, but maybe a few non-perishables in the back…?"

Just then, heavy, tired footfalls came from the bedroom. Chance, half-asleep, poked his head out.

"You a'ight?" he slurred, still barely awake - barely alive, more like, with how rough he looked. His eyes were half-lidded and dull, with dark bags underneath. "I 'eard somethin' clangin'."

"O-Oh, I'm fine! Sorry, butterfingers!" Jeremy gave a sheepish smile. He felt bad about waking him up. "Oh, while you were asleep, Hornet stopped by! She's right-"

He turned, but his smile fell. Hornet had fled without a word.

Chance looked at the empty space she was just at. He had a strange aversion to Hornet, but in his delirious state, he didn't even react. "...I 'on see her. 'Sides," he mumbled, turning back into his bed to crash again. "Why 'ould she come up 'ere anyway?"

Jeremy blinked at his words. ...Why wouldHornet follow us all the way up here? Does she have an ulterior motive?

He sighed; if she had something like that, he couldn't deduce it if he tried. He was never good at figuring out that kind of stuff. Cooking's so much easier, he thought, pulling some ingredients out of the cabinet and onto a counter. A few leafy greens, some mushrooms, a jar of honey, some garnish and spices…

If Chance was squatting in an old house like he said, then he either went shopping recently, or these things should have expired years ago from the previous owners. They weren't exactly fresh, but they were still perfectly good. Did they have one of those weird preservation seal things, like they saw in the Junk Pit? He couldn't tell, the magic behind it was subtle enough that it was hard to detect.

Whump!

Jeremy spun around again, still jumpy as ever. Standing near the doorway was Hornet again, a dead Tiktik caught in her string and tossed onto the table. He looked up into Hornet's eyes wordlessly.


Jeremy was starting to wonder if Hornet and Chance were secretly the same person.

Jokingly, of course. But he'd never seen them in the same room together; Hornet showed up just as Chance left, and Chance walked in just after Hornet left. Was it just a coincidence? Or was Chance pretending so that he wouldn't have to confront Hornet? He hoped it was the former. He was friends with both Hornet and Chance; it'd be nice if they could both get along, too.

As the Tiktik carcass cooked under a thin slathering of honey, Jeremy idly wondered how the heck a stove worked here. Again, he wasn't a magic user, but he could detect some kind of rune under the stove? Maybe that was how it worked? But even then, who had the idea of a working stove in Hallownest, anyway? There wasn't any gas or electricity here, so how how did they end up using runes to replicate-

"I believe it's burning."

Jeremy snapped out of his thoughts. "Ah-" Thankfully, it hadn't burnt, but it had gotten close while he was zoning out. He managed to quickly kill the magic-stove-thing and moved the Tiktik to a plate, where he began to cut it into pieces.

The honey had caramelized over the meat beautifully, and looked to pair well with the mushrooms he prepared, too. Though, he only just now realized that he used a stove, not an oven, which was silly, yet it somehow still turned out okay? Who in the world designed this stove? A genius? A lunatic? Lemm mentioned other humans, was it one of them? Or did-

"O-Oh, here's your plate, Hornet."

Hornet had helped cook, a little. Other than hunting down a Tiktik, she mostly observed his process with interest, though she also helped cut and cook the mushrooms, and had asked to add some garnish to the Tiktik. Jeremy noticed her suppress a soft laugh when she threw the small thin greens on top.

He handed Hornet a full plate. Honeyed Tiktik with… some shrooms. They tasted good enough, even if they probably didn't pair with the Tiktik as well as Sunshrooms would have, but that was okay. She took her plate, staring down at it, her expression unreadable underneath her mask.

"...Thank you." Her voice was tense as she took the plate to the table and sat down, her movements slow and calculated, nowhere near the almost warm Hornet he'd cooked this meal with minutes ago.

"S-Sorry we don't have any drinks to go with it," Jeremy said, sitting down himself across from her with a smile. "O-Oh, actually, would you be okay with water? It's not much but I think there's a pump or something nearby, I could go get you some, or-"

"I-I'll be fine, thank you," Hornet said, still tense. She couldn't peel her eyes away from the meal he'd made for her - no, the meal they had made together.

Hornet picked up a fork in a fist, as though unfamiliar with the utensil, jabbed it into a slice of meat, and took a tentative bite. She froze, before her eyes widened and lit up. It was completely different from anything she'd tasted in a long, long time; something properly cooked instead of a raw, fresh kill. The meat was firm, yet tender; it wasn't drenched with blood or Infection, yet still had a juiciness to it that flowed over her tongue, blending with the taste of honey that crystallized over the top and soaked into the meat.

It was delicious.

Jeremy frowned at her expression. "A-Are you alright, Hornet? It's… it's not bad, is it?"

"N-Not at all, no," Hornet said after swallowing. She was shaking; she couldn't remember the last time she was so uncomfortable, and yet, this stupid little meal was the best thing to happen to her in years. She hadn't had the luxury of cooked meat in ages, always scavenging to eat whatever she could find or kill, and Jeremy just… up and made this for her, like it was nothing. She didn't know how to react.

"It's… It's good. It's very good," Hornet said, taking another guilty bite.

tip-tap-tip-tap-tip-

They both turned to see Tusk stroll into the room, who almost seemed to perk up when they saw Hornet. Tiktik plushie in hand, they clambered up onto a third chair, and had to stand in it to be even close to eye level with Jeremy and Hornet.

"H-Hi, Tusk!" Jeremy laughed. He hesitated, but reached out to pat Tusk on the head between their horns.

Hornet stared at the two of them, seemingly uncomfortable. "...Why 'Tusk'?"

Jeremy turned to her. "Huh? O-Oh, I think they picked that name themselves, right?" Tusk nodded proudly, and Jeremy smiled.

Hornet was not as amused. She looked back down at her plate. "...You think…?"

"I-I mean, that's just what I heard."

"But I thought that you-"

Tusk patted their hands on the table, drawing Hornet and Jeremy's attention. They pointed at their plates, leaning forward on the table, reaching out.

"O-Oh, do you want some too?" (Foolish. A Vessel could not 'want'.) Tusk nodded at Jeremy's question, who giggled with a smile. He stood up to move to the counter where some meat and mushrooms were left over. "Don't worry, we made plenty! Honeyed Tiktik, coming right up!" (A Vessel could not 'worry', either.)

...We? Hornet though, conflicted. And the idea of having a surplus of anything seemed impossible to her. But then she paused, looking back up at the Vessel.

Tusk had gone deathly still. They didn't even turn to look at Jeremy. Their eyes were focused on the Tiktik meat on Jeremy and Hornet's plates.

Slowly, ever so slowly, they looked down at the Tiktik plush in their arms.

Hornet felt like she just watched a child get stabbed.

But then something strange happened. Out of nowhere, defying everything Hornet ever thought she knew.

Tusk began crying.

Inky black tears bubbled up from the holes of their eyes and trailed down their pale-white porcelain mask, leaving a grey stain behind as it trained down. Tusk's body began to shake uncontrollably, tears running down their face as they clutched their plushie tight to their chest, standing on that chair.

Jeremy noticed this and reacted immediately "O-Oh no, wait, no, I didn't-! Uhmm-!" He reached out as if to embrace Tusk, but flinched back at the last second, biting his knuckles as he tried to brainstorm what to say and do. "I'm sorry! I-I didn't realize- I-I-It's just a Tiktik, right?"

This was clearly the wrong thing to say, as Tusk leapt from the chair and sprinted into the bedroom, inky tears dripping down their face and to the floor, trailing behind them. Jeremy took two steps towards Tusk before he tensed up; he looked like he was about to cry, too.

"I-I'm sorry, Tusk, I didn't mean-! I-I wasn't thinking, please come out! I didn't-"

He was cut off as Hornet sharply rose from her chair. The table jostled around her, silverware clinking and falling over. Her hands were clenched and shaking, and she couldn't tear her eyes from the black tears staining the floor, a typhoon of raging, conflicted emotions in her dark eyes.

(Vessels could not do that. They could not want, they could not care, they could not pout, they could not cry. They could not feel.)

"I have to go," Hornet mumbled out, and without another word, she stormed out of the house, the door slamming behind her.

Jeremy took a few steps in her direction, before he froze, his face distraught. Forcing down a sob, he collapsed to his knees. "W-Why is this so hard…" he cried. "I-I thought everyone was happy for a minute… why did it all fall apart so easily?" The only thing Jeremy wanted was for everyone to get along. Call him naive, call him childish, but…

A pair of warm arms wrapped around his shoulders. Jeremy looked over his shoulder through tear-filled eyes.

"Are you okay?" Chance said. He still looked tired, his expression flat and neutral, but concern still shone in his eyes. "Tusk woke me up. ...So Hornet stopped by after all, huh?"

Jeremy looked up at him. "Y-You don't sound all that surprised…"

"I am, I'm just... tired." Chance helped Jeremy to his feet. "Here, I think you could use some sleep too. Use my bed; I've got a few quick errands to run around town, anyway."

Jeremy protested, "B-But Tusk-"

"I don't think Tusk is the type to hold grudges," Chance assured him. "You can go apologize, and then take a nap. You need it." His tone was firm, but kind.

Jeremy wiped his eyes on his sleeve, sniffling. "O...Okay… Thank you..." He walked over towards the bedroom door with some hesitation; it was such a small thing that Tusk would surely get over quickly, but he was still awful at this confrontational stuff. He wished Chance could help him, but he was apparently busy. "W-Where are you going, anyway?"

"Nowhere far," Chance smiled. "Just a few pitstops around town I oughta make. I'll be just down the road if you need me."

Jeremy nodded. He could do this without Chance. A simple apology wasn't beyond him, right? He could do this.

"Oh and u-uh… Our plates…"

Chance turned to look at the table. Both Hornet and Jeremy's plates sat, still warm, only a few bites taken out of each. "Oh, don't worry about that. I can clean those up before you go," he said, reaching to pick them up.

"Uh, actually!" Jeremy spoke up. "Hornet left without a word, and I'm not really hungry, so… I was wondering if you would like to finish ours?"

Chance blinked. "Uh… I guess I haven't eaten since the fight… I could use some of your cooking, yeah."

Jeremy tried to shake off the fluttering in his chest at that remark. "I-I'm sorry. I only planned to make enough for two, but I didn't factor in Hornet showing up… B-But she also showed up a while before I started s-so I don't really have an excuse other than it slipping my mind…" He held a hand up to his face, nervous eyes averting their gaze. "I-I didn't mean to only leave you leftovers-"

"Jay, it's alright," Chance gave that warm, signature smile of his. "Though, uh, I don't think I'm hungry enough to eat two plates…"

"Y-You can just pick one, then? I-I don't think it really matters."

Chance stopped, turning to the table thoughtfully. Honeyed Tiktik and Some-Shrooms. Two plates sat out before him.

Hornet or Jeremy.

"...Alright. I think I'll go with-"


"The Lumafly Lantern again? I'm afraid it's price has not dropped since you last asked; it'll still cost you eighteen hundred Geo."

"Cool, I'll take it."

Sly sputtered. "W-Why, you had meager pocket change last I saw you, friend! Was Gathering Swarm that effective…?"

Chance looked over his other wares, his expression contemplative. He reached down a small charm that fit in the palm of his hand. "What's this?"

"Stalwart Shell, it grants resilience after being hit in case you need to escape a tight spot."

Chance's brows furrowed. "What's the point of being resilient after getting hit…? Ah, well, I'll take it."

"That'll be two hundred Geo, friend. Along with the lantern, it'll be two grand."

Two grand. Chance cringed, but reached into his pouch(which seemingly held a small pocket dimension of Geo) and handed the small, shiny rocks over to a Sly who looked like he was about to start drooling.

"...You're selling a hunk of scrap metal for nine-fifty?!"

"First of all, it is MORE than mere SCRAP-"


"Ah, Chance! It's good to see you're okay!"

He gave an awkward laugh as he stepped inside of Iselda's shop. "I'm, uh, managing," he said, trying to put on a smile. He couldn't exactly say things were looking up, but he was making progress, so he'd take it.

"Where have you been? Neither you nor Cornifer has returned to Dirtmouth in quite some time, and I've been stewing here in worry."

"O-Oh, uh…" He didn't realize Iselda was that worried about him. It made sense, since he was the first one to settle in this ghost town in such a long time, but he still wasn't used to people worrying over him. Also, Cornifer hadn't returned yet? That was concerning, but maybe that was normal for a cartographer. "I-I'm sorry. I've been down in the Wastes for a while. I, uh, met the Mantises-"

"You didn't fight them, did you?"

Chance was silent.

"...Chance. Please tell me you didn't start a fight with the Mantis Tribe."

He threw up his hands, "I-It worked out alright in the end! I won a duel against their Lords-"

"You what?!" Iselda shouted. "Chance, you could have died there in a second!"

"It was the only way forward! And I won anyway, and I think they like me now? I don't know how it works, some honor stuff involved, but they're letting me stay there however long I need to, so…"

Iselda slouched over her counter in exasperation. She couldn't believe the words she was hearing. "You won… against the Mantis Lords… Chance, I'm not sure that I could have won that fight. I don't know how you did it…"

"O-Oh, uh, it was mostly Tusk. I was just support," he lied. Well, half-lied. It was easier than explaining the whole mess that happened down there, and more believable, too. "I'm just coming back up here for another quick rest."

Iselda stared into his tangerine eyes with her own. "Do you really have the time for that...?"

"I…" Chance pursed his lips, turning away from her. He shook his head, "Do, uh, you have anything for sale?" he asked, dodging Iselda's question entirely.

She seemed to realize what he was doing, but let it go with a sigh. He was dying either way. He deserved some respite from the dangers down below. A little rest could go a long way, and even if it didn't, he could at least enjoy his time left.

She then blinked, "Oh, how is my nail treating you, by the way?"

Chance stiffened. "...I left it back home for a little while. It's good, but I got a little tired of carrying it," he lied to her face. Iselda's nail was currently somewhere in the City of Tears, having been chucked out of a window.

OH MY GOD. I AM SO FUCKING DEAD.

Iselda shrugged at his response, seemingly believing him. "Fair enough. It might be a bit large for your stature; ideally, you should get one custom-made, if you can." She stood up a little straighter, "But I digress. Would you like to see our wares, Chance?"

Chance sighed in relief. "Sure. What do you have?"

"Well," she said, reaching under the counter, "I don't have any new maps from Corny yet, so… you could always do with some pins and markers, perhaps?"

"Pins and markers?"

She pulled a handful of them out. They looked almost like charms, but didn't seem to have any magic properties, and were much smaller. They had some obvious symbols on them, so even he could tell what they meant at a glance. A few had blue bench symbols, some had purple Stag symbols, a pink-ish hot springs symbol, and a light grey…

"Is… is that a brick?"

Iselda blinked. "I- What? No, that's a tram."

Now it was Chance's turn to be confused. "A tram?" The biggest technological development he'd seen in Hallownest were those pulley elevators in the City. He wasn't sure how those worked, but he assumed it had something to do with Soul? Either way, when he really thought about it, all it had to do was know when to go up and down, and then stop at the designated floor. It was, like, forty percent gravity doing the job.

But a tram was a whole different thing. A tram, as in, like, a train? Well, it didn't look like it had some kind of engine on the thing, but the little pole sticking out on top implied it worked more like an old San Fransisco type tram; connected and powered by electrical wires dangling above the cabin. But he hadn't seen any electricity in Hallownest, save for those weird fly-things in the Fog Canyons. No harnessed electricity, at least. Was it Soul? Or something else?

"Uh… I think I'll take some of the tram ones." He hadn't seen a tram here yet, but now his curiosity was piqued. "O-Oh, and I guess I'll take the… Stag, hot springs, and bench pins, too."

"Of course. That'll be 400 Geo, please." Chance sighed; not at the price being too high, but at it being so low. Why couldn't Sly take a page out of Iselda's book? A more reliable map for some loose change, and he had to drop two grand on a lantern and a charm. It was crazy.

He rummaged around in his satchel looking for his Geo pouch. He knew he put it in here, but he couldn't find any-

"Oh my! Is that a…?"

Chance looked up at Iselda to see her holding her hands over her mouth in surprise. He looked in his bag to see what she was staring out, and pulled out a small, pink crystal, its glow illuminating both of their faces.

"This is one of those crystals from the Peaks, isn't it? Oh, I've always wanted to see one of these!" Iselda said, staring deep into the light of the crystal.

"From the Peaks?" Chance asked. He found it down in the Crossroads, not on a mountain. And Lemm was interested in this stuff, too. What was the significance of it?

"The Crystal Peaks of Hallownest. Another region my husband wishes to chart," she sighed. "It seems to be a dangerous place, so I'm not keen on him going, but… he did promise to bring me back some of those crystals. I hear they cover almost every surface. A massive cavern, with every wall, ceiling and floor made of glowing, pink crystal… It sounds like a wonderland." Iselda sighed again, a dreamy look in her eyes.

Chance could picture it vividly in his head. "Yeah… yeah, it does." He blinked. "You can, uh, keep it, if you'd like. I'm not really attached to it."

"Really? Thank you very much!" Iselda smiled. She placed the pink crystal on the counter, adjusting it so that the Light shined and complemented the shop's cool atmosphere. "I think it'll look quite nice here, don't you agree?"


...Eh, may as well take a quick soak before going home. I'm sick of being filthy.

Chance scratched at his arms as he approached the hot springs cave. Hallownest was not doing any favors for his hygiene; he'd get covered in sweat from fights, and with no way to wash it off, it'd just dry up and stick to his skin…

The City of Tears helped, but there's only so much standing out in the rain can do for your bodily health. He was still coated in sweat, dirt, dust, grime, even blood. Especially blood.

The Sanctum… He showered in blood. In Infection, in flesh, in pus. Had that really only happened a day ago…? It felt like so long ago, and yet, it felt like it had just happened. He still stunk of blood. The way his flesh melted off of his body, the fireball that ripped his gut open, the crunching of bodies underneath him, the glass stabbing into his neck, the-

Chance's hand scraped on the rock floor. He blinked. When'd he fall down? He could barely think over the sound of his heartbeat, over the breaths that seemed too thin.

It… It's just a hot spring. He was fine. He… he was safe here. Safe. He could clean himself off here. He could clean all the blood off.

Chance tried to pull himself to his feet, but his knees gave out, and he collapsed again. He kept scratching at his arms, his shoulders, his chest, his back… Everywhere was filthy. Every part of him was covered in blood. He needed to clean it off. He needed to be clean again.

His breath hitched, and he felt something tighten around his torso, before it yanked, and Chance went flying screaming into the hot springs.

Warm water washed over him, knocking him out of his stupor. A resounding splash echoed through the cavern, muffled with his head under water. The spring water soaked into his clothes and weighed him down, but he thrashed and struggled until he managed to break the surface, taking a deep gulp of air. Through his drenched hair that stuck to his head and partially covered his eyes, he scanned the room, looking for what could have pulled him into the-

His eyes landed on a silver needle, pointed right at his face.

Hornet stood over him, the water just shallow enough for her cloak to stay dry from where she stood, glaring into him. It was hard to see, and maybe he was imagining things, but he could've sworn that Hornet's eyes looked somehow… raw, like something had gotten in them and irritated her.

Wait. He didn't… intrude on her, did he?

Hornet took one step forward, before she hissed in pain, stumbling backwards and collapsing into the water herself, soaking her dress. She grabbed at her leg, still hissing to herself.

She raised her leg above the water to inspect it, and Chance could see the offender: a small shard of glass had embedded itself into her foot.

Why the hell were glass shards in the hot spri- Oh. Oh shit, Idid this, didn't I. Fuck.

He blinked, forcing himself to stop staring like an idiot so he could actually say something. "A-Are you okay? H-Here, lemme-"

Hornet seethed at him. "Don't touch me."

"N-No, wait, I can…" He reached out cautiously, approaching Hornet like a frightened animal. Both of them dripping wet, Chance kept both of his hands up so Hornet could see he meant no harm. She glared at him, but stayed still, seemingly allowing his approach. Chance reached out towards her foot, and keeping his hands a good few inches away, let his Soul coalesce around his fingers.

Hornet's wound quickly patched itself up, the glass shard forcing itself out. Hornet grimaced, but didn't stop him as he gingerly plucked the glass shard out of the wound and dropped it in his pocket.

"There. ...A-Are you alright?" he asked again. Hornet didn't respond immediately, instead looking at where she was injured just a second ago, her eyes wide in wonder. Chance was left sitting there, crouching in the spring, soaking wet like an idiot.

Somehow, they ended up sitting on the shore of the spring, soaking their feet in the water.

Chance's jacket, shoes and socks were discarded. Jeremy was right; the bulky jacket did make him seem a lot bigger than he really was. In reality, he was almost worryingly skinny, probably from how little he'd been eating in Hallownest. That was one reason for this 'break' after all. He had to watch himself, or he'd wind up dead long before the Infection killed him.

Honestly, he had just gotten used to the constant cramps in his stomach, the constant aching in his muscles, the constant bullshit that he was never really certain was even real.

Hornet sat beside him, a few feet away, still as guarded and distant as ever. "...Why was there glass in the spring?" She finally spoke up, barely looking at him.

"O-Oh-" Chance had spaced out for a minute. "T-That was, uhm… my fault, actually."

Now Hornet looked at him, her expression equal parts angry and disbelieving. "Your fault?"

"Y-Yeah, I was, uh… trying to wash myself off with a glass bottle - as in, like, pouring water on me - and it, ah, kinda shattered in my hand. It was enough of a nightmare just getting out of the spring after that, so-"

He blinked. "Oh, wait, I guess I can do this now, so…" He pulled the small glass shard that Hornet had stepped on out of his pocket, and let his Soul flow through it. Using magic while in the Soul-replenishing hot spring, he felt like a live wire; energy flowing into one end and flowing out of the other. It barely took any concentration at all for the other shards of glass to come flying out of the water with small splashes and into his hand, reforming into a solid glass bottle.

Hornet stared at the magic he effortlessly commanded, her masked expression seemingly in deep thought. Chance weighed the bottle in his hand, before putting it with the rest of his other stuff.

"...I don't understand you at all."

Chance paused, turning to look at her when she spoke up suddenly. He only stared at her, unsure of how to respond. Hornet had the bottom of her mask tucked into the turtleneck of her cloak; if he didn't know any better, he'd think she was acting shy.

"The power you wield… So simple, and yet, I've not seen anything like it before. Admittedly, it's not one I'd expect someone such as yourself to be using, of all people. ...I wonder, is that power born from kindness? From forgiveness? Is it born from a desire to return to what once was, or perhaps from a hope for the future?"

Chance said nothing. Hornet turned away from him, the soft white ripples of the spring glowing onto her mask. Despite her conflicted expression, she looked serene. The one who had impaled him on a needle, the one he could barely look at without feeling his throat clench up in panic. Serene.

"Even with the Infection ravaging your body, you've been seeking an impossible cure. And despite even that, you've found the leisure time to… befriend that Vessel of yours," Hornet choked out that last bit. "Why? ...Everything you do is futile."

Chance looked down. Was she right? Was he doom-driven? "Vessel…"

"Hm?"

"Everyone's been calling Tusk that. I don't even know what it means." He could see Hornet flinch at the mention of Tusk's name, but couldn't begin to guess why.

Hornet was silent for a long moment, her mask tucked into her turtleneck again, averting her gaze. Chance didn't let up. "...Please. I need to know."

Hornet took a deep breath, still refusing to look at him. "...Even so early on in your journey, you've encountered all manner of hells and cruelties in Hallownest." She shuddered, her shoulders tensing up. "A Vessel… is the purest and darkest cruelty there is."

Chance's breath hitched in his throat, Hornet's response being completely out of left field for him. "W-What…?"

Hornet stood up suddenly, the water rippling around where she once was. "I've said too much already. Find the Grave in Ash if you think you are strong enough to bear the horrible truth." She turned back to him. "...If you even survive long enough to see it, that is."

She readied her needle, flinging it out of the cavern. Silk strands shimmered around her as she prepared to launch herself away, before Chance suddenly shot up.

"W-Wait!" He looked up at her, his Infected eyes desperate, reaching out for her as if she would slip away at any moment.

Hornet looked down at him; he looked so pitiful. The fear in his orange eyes, the water that still left him dripping wet, how filthy and worn out he was. He looked like a kicked puppy left out in the rain.

"...Will I see you again?"

Of all the things he could've asked. Hornet turned away, her expression unreadable. "I would think so, yes. I am the guardian of this corpse of a kingdom, you and the Vessel are its winds of change. To prolong a stasis or lay this world to rest; we will clash again, and the fate of Hallownest is in our hands."

Chance seemed to deflate at her response, turning his gaze away, his expression conflicted. Pity. He looked pitiful and she pitied him; all he wanted was to cure himself, and the future of this entire kingdom was thrust into his unwilling hands.

Hornet sighed inaudibly. "...I do hope you survive," she almost spoke without thinking, "I… I still need to pay you back for that meal, do I not?"

Chance paused, looking up, confused. "...Meal? What meal?"

"It was at your house, was it not?"

Chance pursed his lips, looking down over the springwater. Even with its pale glow, Hornet still couldn't see his eyes.

"...I guess it was."


The door closed behind him with a thud, and Chance let his jacket slip from his shoulders and fall to the floor. He didn't have a coat hanger and he didn't feel like cleaning himself up, anyways.

Setting his satchel on the couch with a bit more care, he tiptoed through the dark house into the bedroom, where he cracked the door open to see Jeremy lying in his bed, back turned away from him, asleep. He could spy the tips of Tusk's horns from behind Jeremy as well, the two of them curled up next to one another.

Chance smiled, glad that they made up from what happened earlier with dinner. Creeping into his room, he tried to sneak under the covers and slide into the bed next to Jeremy. It wasn't a big bed, but Jeremy and Tusk weren't very big people, so he could fit alright.

It was so dark, so quiet. Only the howling of wind outside a window. He could see the gentle rising and falling of Jeremy's chest as he slept, the subtle twitches of his antennae as he dreamed. Something about it had Chance's eyes lingering, even as his eyelids grew heavy.

Sleep seemed to come to him quickly, despite his nap earlier. Exhaustion knocks someone out quick, he guessed with a half-conscious mind. Gingerly, he let his eyes close as he drifted into sleep.


POP!

Chance startled awake at the loud noise, and the first thing he thought was "oh shit, Tusk found my gun, didn't they".

His eyes snapped open and the scenery was awash with gold. A golden sun setting in a golden sky over a golden sea, golden light filtering through a golden champagne bottle, its foam trickling down the hand of a golden woman.

"Well," The Radiance said, projecting her divine voice for all of their guests to bear witness to, "I believe this is as good a cause as any to celebrate, no?"

Chance blinked, registering more of his surroundings. There was a dumb paper party hat on his head, for one. He was sitting at one end of a long dining table, with the Radiance on the other end, the table covered in fruits and meats and pastries and drinks and salads, an entire grand feast in golden dinnerware. Even their plates and silverware were solid gold.

Their table was right in the center of the massive deck of a cruise ship, packed to the brim with Mantises. But they didn't seem like normal Mantises; their bodies seemed larger, their chitin was off-color, and their eyes were a bright orange. With the shadows starting to grow under a setting sun, the multicolored lights of the ship deck shined bright. Warm cabin lights glowed alongside the sides of the ship like a late-night apartment complex, swimming pools were lit up in light-turquoise. Dramatic spotlights beamed over the railing, some of the Mantises were holding sparklers, and different parts of the ship were highlighted in neon blues and pinks and purples and greens and reds and yellows, every color imaginable was glowing somewhere.

Chance looked around at the other guests the Radiance had thought to invite to the table. The Radiance herself, for one, was no longer in her 'human' form but more resembled a moth, though something told Chance that even this form was mostly for show. She still had human body proportions, standing only just a few inches above him. She poured out expensive-looking champagne into her glass, before handing it off to some other nameless moth to pour it into the glasses of everyone else present. She didn't mind if it spilled or got messy on her; she was enjoying the moment too much to care about little things like that.

Next to her was a smaller moth in lavender with long cream-colored antennae, her pink eyes wide with wonder. Her plate was mostly a light salad. "Ahhhh, you always find a reason to celebrate, my Light."

"Oh, but this one's particularly special, my Seer!" The Radiance beamed.

Across from the Seer, on the Radiance's other side, was Rio, her arms crossed as she leaned back in her chair, threatening to tip it over. Contrary to the Seer's vegan diet, Rio's plate consisted almost solely of meat. "Another human dream…? Is the human world really this colorful? And bright?" She sighed, wistful. "I'd forgotten how bright the world can seem."

"Ah, but that's why I'm here, isn't it?" The Radiance laughed with her. Chance tentatively raised a hand to wave at Rio, but the awkwardness of it all made him put his hand back down and hold his tongue.

The table was filled with a few other bugs that Chance had never seen before, presumably those in the Radiance's inner circle. Or maybe she just wanted to impress them; he never understood this high-society bull.

He could see a figure with black chitin, clad in red and tan armor that obscured their face, a massive sword strapped to their back that looked taller than them. They stretched out, enjoying the atmosphere but looking bored.

There was a being that resembled the moss chargers in Greenpath, but with orange pus bloating off of it. They raved around like a maniac, completely disregarding the food in front of them or the other guests, but the Radiance merely smiled and nodded along with their ranting.

In the seat directly to Chance's right, a massive Mantis with turquoise chitin and a navy-blue cloak that went all the way up to his chin was staring straight at him with keen interest-

The large Mantis suddenly slipped from his chair and collapsed to his knees in front of Chance, taking his hand gingerly in his bladed arms.

"P-Please," he begged, orange tears welling up in his eyes. Even on his knees, he had to look down at Chance with his towering figure. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I-I just want to see my daughter again, I-I-I was wrong, I'm sorry, I-"

He choked up, his buff form seeming to crumple under Chance's bewildered stare. "T-Tell Valleri I'm sorry. P-Please, I just-"

Chance blinked, and the Mantis had simply popped out of existence.

Chance stared at his hand, still reeling from the emotional outburst directed towards him. The table had gone silent, as had much of the surrounding crowd, their eyes darting between Chance and the Mantis's seat. Across the table, the Radiance set the champagne bottle down with a thud, an annoyed grimace on her face.

"Hmph. I'm so sorry, I should have expected such a reaction." She brought back that warm, performative smile again, "Don't let that ruin your night, Chance. He simply has some issues with-"

"That was Caesar," Chance interrupted her. The Radiance only blinked, so he turned to face her. "That was the fourth Mantis Lord. The one who betrayed the tribe, right?"

His use of the word "betrayed" made several of the Mantises around him hiss with displeasure, many of them glaring at him. The Radiance merely raised a hand to settle them, before turning to Chance with a nod. "I'm surprised you could tell so easily."

"I can read souls with physical contact, remember?" Chance raised up the hand that Caesar had grabbed.

"Ah, I hadn't noticed he had grabbed you. Well, rest assured, Caesar is fine; I had merely woken him up for a time so that he may calm down. Now, Chance, would you like a glass of-"

"Woken up?" Chance parroted. His eyes grew dark, looking down at his hand. "So this is just a dream…" He wasn't sure why, but he always woke up in the morning unsure of what was real or not, his memory even more unreliable than it already was with it being wiped. Sometimes he didn't remember these dreams, sometimes he wasn't sure what parts of it to believe. It was driving him crazy to be toyed with like this.

The Radiance blinked. "Why, of course it is. Such is my domain." She laughed, "Oh, had you forgotten? I admit, I occasionally restrict your memories within my realm, so as not to alarm-"

Chance stuck the barrel of his gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger, his head erupting into Essence.


His eyes snapped open, and Chance grinned. "You can't die in a dream," he whispered to himself.

Sitting up, Chance looked over at Jeremy and Tusk, both sound asleep. His impish grin turned into a softer smile; as much as he would like to join them, he obviously couldn't let himself dream right now, so maybe there was something else he could do.

He pushed the covers off of him and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, stretching his arms high over his head. For once, he felt fresh, clean, relaxed. He smiled; if he couldn't sleep, then maybe he could just make the best of the time he had until Jeremy and Tusk woke up.

As he rose from the bed, something surged in the back of Chance's skull. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he collapsed to the floor, unconscious.


His eyes snapped open and the scenery was awash with gold. A golden sun setting in a golden sky over a golden sea, golden light filtering through a golden champagne bottle, its foam trickling down the hand of a golden woman, her other hand on her hip as she glared at him with her golden gaze.

He scrambled to grab his gun again, and had only just stuck the cold metal barrel into his mouth before the Radiance spoke up again. "Even if you escape again, I'll only bring you back like I just did."

Chance paused, feeling the gun barrel with his tongue, looking down at his own hands.

"Chance. Don't be like this. We have guests."

He stared at the goddess for a tense moment. With a resigned sigh, he reluctantly pulled the gun out of his mouth, setting it on the table with a thud that made the silverware shake. He glared back at the Radiance.

"...We?"

"It is our kingdom, is it not?" The Radiance gave him another tight smile, pouring out another glass for herself. "Or I suppose, it could be. Come to think of it, I don't believe you've ever accepted my offer, though I think I can guess at your response."

Chance said nothing, only looking down at the seat Caesar was sitting in before.

The Radiance raised a glass high in the air, "A kingdom, a world of happiness, at your very fingertips! You could make everyone you care for happy, Chance. You could form reality itself to fit your desires! Why, look around you!"

He raised his head, looking around at the Traitor Mantises and the Moths and various other bugs; running around, drinking, feasting, laughing, being with one another, smiles on every face. A father picked up his daughter and tossed her in the air, catching her as the two laughed. Two friends were competing to see who could swim faster laps in the pool. One was lounging on a pool chair, basking in the sunlight as they slept. It made Chance wonder, what would happen if you fell asleep in a realm of dreams? Was there another Dream Realm, also under the Radiance's control? Or was it a dark, dreamless sleep?

"Aboard this voyage, all are at peace. There is no suffering, no hunger, no longing. None shall be alone to weather the cold nights."

Chance picked up his own glass of champagne, swirling it in the glass, deep in thought as he watched the golden drink slosh around. "...Why's it always a ship, anyway?"

The Radiance blinked, surprised by the question. "Hm?"

He set his glass down, "Yeah, come to think of it, that's right. I first met you on a canoe in some endless ocean. Then there was that pirate ship while I was in the City, and there was even that spaceship from last time. There's been exceptions, but ships have always been the running theme with you."

"What's a spaceship?" asked the one in red and tan armor. She leaned over at the Radiance, who ignored her to stare at Chance.

"W-Why, it represents our journey, of course! Our voyage towards universal happiness for all! And we can reach that goal, with your help, Chance!" She smiled at him, raising her arms high to show off the glamor of her noble mission, to show off the massive golden cruise ship they were all on.

"Bullshit."

The Radiance faltered, before her arms fell. Chance was glaring at her from across the table; the others had stopped eating and were sitting awkwardly, eyes darting between the rugged-looking alien on one end of the table, and the brilliant goddess on the other.

"You're getting all this scenery from my mind, aren'tcha? This is all from me. There's a reason my head is apparently filled with ships." He looked away, his expression pained.

"...What do you know about my memories, really?"

The Radiance growled, slamming a fist on the table that made the other guests jump. "What are you insinuating, Chance? That I don't have your best interests in mind? I'm doing all of this for your sake, too! Why can't you just see that and trust me?!"

Chance smacked the table, "You're dodging the question! I wanna know the truth!"

"You don't want the truth!" The Radiance shouted as she rose from her seat, gripping the table in a vice that threatened to crack it. The light surrounding her grew blinding, and some of those closest to her scrambled away, shielding their eyes from her fury. She was breathing heavily, struggling to compose herself again. "...Why do you want to know the truth so badly, Chance? Why do you want to know the past? It'll only hurt you. I don't want such suffering to befall you, my love."

"Why do I-" Chance sputtered over himself, being forced to explain something out loud that he'd never even considered himself before. "I- Look, I'm no philosopher or anything, but… My past's a part of me. This whole time, this feeling of not knowing's been gnawing away at me, and I haven't been able to live with myself. I'd never be able to live with myself if I just dropped it."

"But you could, Chance. I could let you live with yourself. I could let you be happy."

Chance scoffed. "You'd 'let' me? What, like I need your fuckin' permission?"

The Radiance glowered at him. "I'm your goddess."

Chance shook his head, rising from his seat. "No god of mine, you're not. I'm sick of gods, I'm sick of these dreams, just let me wake up already." He shoved his chair back under the table, giving the Radiance one last glare before he turned around to walk away.

He didn't even make it two steps. Right behind him stood a familiar, half-human face that made him freeze.

"C-Chance?" Jeremy asked, eyes darting around the ship deck, pure anxiety coming off of him in waves. He was without his green cloak, so he wrapped his arms around himself in a vain attempt to hide himself from the prying eyes all around him. "W-Where are we? What's going on?"

"Wh...What-"

The Radiance sighed from behind him. "You long so badly for the truth, yet with even a fraction of it standing before you, all you can do is seize up like a coward."

Chance spun around, his eyes bewildered and afraid. He had to get Jeremy out of here, this place wasn't safe. She wasn't safe. "W-What do you-"

While he wasn't looking, the Radiance had picked up the gun he had left on the table and forgotten about. She leveled the barrel between his eyes, a sad expression on her face.

"Perhaps you should reconsider what you truly want, Chance."

With a resounding bang, Chance's body jolted before collapsing, his crimson blood spraying across Jeremy's horrified face.


He woke up to blood-curdling screams.

It was pitch black, and Chance had to scramble to his feet from the floor and practically throw himself at Jeremy, who was hyperventilating. The moth hybrid's eyes were wide and bloodshot with terror, frantically wrapping the blankets around himself as he breathed in and out, caught between screaming and breathing.

Chance's arms wrapped around Jeremy's soft neck fur, holding him tighter than he ever had before. Jeremy's own arms clung to him, as the initial panic ebbed away and he broke down sobbing into Chance's shoulder. He kept trying to speak, but his emotions kept getting caught up in his throat, and he choked every time he tried to say Chance's name.

Tusk had been woken up by the commotion, and jumped into the hug, trying to comfort both of them as best as they could.

"Shh, don't say anything," Chance whispered sweet nothings into Jeremy's ear. "It's… I'm still here. I'm okay, you're okay. You're okay. You're safe. It's… It's just a bad dream."

Somehow, consoling Jeremy in the dead of night, Chance felt like he was just trying to comfort himself.


Chapter name and summary are a reference to Lithium by Nirvana.

moth bf over moth gf

This chapter was meant to be short and sweet, but it wound up like, twice as long as I planned. I guess that's a good thing for you, though.

For the cooking stuff Jeremy uses... honestly don't overthink it, i just wanted an excuse for him to cook something without having to worry about the how. he has a working stove-oven-thing cause i said so

And before i forget, i wanted to mention this in the notes of the last chapter but it slipped my mind: in 1996, the astronauts aboard the Columbia shuttle were supposed to be brought back down to Earth, but it had to be delayed due to poor weather, so NASA played "Don't Bring Me Down" (the previous chapter's title) for their wake-up call as a joke, and that inspired the spaceship scene at the end of the last chapter.

oh god deepnest is gonna be such a nightmare to write. i may need to take a break and write more MR first but we'll see how it goes.

Thank you for reading and please leave a comment :)