AN: I was on the fence whether to give the story a T or M rating. Eventually, I decided to go with M, though that can be debated, just to make sure I had enough freedom while writing. I might still decide to lower it later down the line, but this is my choice for the time being. Therefore, here is a warning. This story features major character death and graphic depictions of violence.

Also, this is of course implied by this being an AU of a specific episode, but regardless; spoilers for the Season 2 finale 'True Colours' will follow.

One True Loss

Chapter 1

Red

"Oh, no…"

Sasha looked in awe at the scene below her. She was incredulous.

Grime was knocked out cold on a roof, a victorious Sprig standing beside him while waving a hand towards Anne. Away and on the ground, in the square right in front of the main portal of Newtopia, she could see the towering form of King Andrias, no doubt smiling in satisfaction as the small force of toads that had managed to infiltrate Newtopia was quickly detained and handcuffed by the newt city guard—those who hadn't already been dealt with by the frog robot and General Yunan, that is.

Most importantly, she knew that the portal to the city had been successfully closed by Anne, locking the toad army led by Bufo out—the only advantage they had over the Newtopian-affiliated forces.

She had failed, and now she was paying the consequences of her hesitation during the last battle.

She had lost, fair and square. For all intents and purposes, that should've been the end of it.

But Sasha was far from being a good loser. The realization came slowly, but she understood that while Andrias had managed to thwart the uprising she and Grime had devised, he still had yet to get his hands on the music box, the object so precious to him that she was able to use it as a bargaining tool against him a couple of hours earlier.

No, it still wasn't over yet, as far as she was concerned.

Of course, that didn't mean that the feeling of failure didn't make her upset. No, on the very contrary…

The second defeat in a row against Anne?

It made her angry.

"Come on, Sash," Anne said. Without her sword she looked almost vulnerable, but when she whirled around to face her, Anne looked everything but that. She had the impression that she was mocking her, even, with the confidence she exuded while she spoke.

"Stand up. We're gonna meet the King now and he's gonna send us home. Hopefully you'll get to think over your decisions once we're back… I'm sure gonna give you a lot of time to do so."

Anne moved towards the swords that Sasha had lost during their previous scuffle, wanting to get the weapons for herself, just in case Sasha tried to pull something. As of now, she just had to lead her away and back to the throne room, to wait for the King while he coordinated the city guard to secure the last routing toads.

This was a precaution that she thought wasn't really needed. In her eyes, Sasha had lost, and clearly so—for all intents and purposes she had no reason to keep fighting.

That was a mistake, and she didn't get the chance to pick the blades.

There was a shout, something rammed into her, and then she was rolling on the stones again with that foreign body enveloped around her. It happened so fast that she only realized that this was Sasha attacking her again, when she heard her voice crying out. That, and the punch on her snout.

"You idiot!" Sasha shouted, raising her fist again to throw another punch, but Anne's intercepted it. Sasha tried to follow with her remaining hand, but Anne was ready for that one as well, and they reached an impasse, one trying to overpower the other as Anne held both of Sasha's fists with her hands.

"I-Idiot!?" Anne managed to croak out as she started to catch her bearings and realized that Sasha wasn't giving up yet. "Sasha, you lost! This is over!"

Sasha would've probably let out a dry chuckle if she wasn't busy trying to get a punch across to her face and disintegrate her cartilages. Instead, she replied, "You don't want to even try and listen, don't you?! You just gave Andrias a free win, Anne! That guy can't be—"

There was a sudden lack of air in her lungs as a knee struck her chest. Sasha wheezed out and found herself staggering back, while Anne stood back up and started going for the light blue sword, the closest one to her position.

"After all of this, you still try to get me to follow you, Sasha? After everything…? Literally every single word you uttered was a lie!" Anne cried out as she picked the sword. Turning around to go for the other one, she was surprised to see that Sasha was already on the pink one, grabbing the heron-themed handle and raising it in the air while still wheezing out her breaths.

Sasha coughed once, then directed a glare at Anne. "I might have made some mistakes but—"

"There's nothing in this freaking world, or Earth for that matter, that'll make me change my mind about the jerk you really are, Sasha!" Anne interrupted her.

"So, now you either give up," she raised her sword, the point of the blade aimed straight for her foe's chest.

"Or I make you give up!"

Sasha narrowed her eyes. She grabbed the hem of her black cape, then pulled it away, easily ripping it out of her back armour. Afterwards, she went for her shoulder pad and tore it off as well. Without the unnatural strengthened gravity of the third temple, it didn't leave a crater on the walkway of the wall, and merely fell with a metallic clang.

That didn't make the action any less significant, and Anne braced herself.

"No," Sasha uttered, raising her sword. The blue and pink blades almost mirrored each other. "Now, you are making a mistake, and I'm not going to let that stop me, even if I was the cause of it."

She frowned. "You either let me get the box away from Andrias, Anne, or I do it anyway, with or without your approval."

Anne had had it with Sasha's words. In her mind, every single sound that left her mouth was poison, yet another attempt at manipulating her, at getting her to side with her to achieve her personal goals, even if it meant hurting the people around her.

Her war cry was shrill, almost giving the impression that she was in pain, but the sword slash was still strong enough that Sasha's own weapon shook under the impact.

And then, the cut and thrust dance began. Unlike the previous fight, the match proved to be much more up and personal, something that Sasha in particular came to realize very soon.

Anne attacked like a rabid animal, one slash after the other, forcing Sasha to duck and parry every odd second while staying on the defensive. In other circumstances, Sasha would've found the speed at which Anne was moving and wielding her sword incredible and even impressive, but unfortunately, she was on the receiving end of the blade and was too focused avoiding decapitation attempts.

Anne cried out again, then rushed at Sasha, who had attempted to take a few steps away to regain her breath. All of Sasha's training was suddenly neutralized by Anne's relentless assaults, as she kept trying and failing to find an opening in her opponent's guard. Anne struck, again and again, ruthless and unyielding.

Then, her strange burst of unlimited energy finally proved to be ultimately the source of a mistake. Anne rushed forward, raising her sword up in the air and bringing it down on Sasha. It would've been easy enough to evade by moving to the side, the lack of weight helping Sasha's agility, but she saw a chance and decided to go for it.

She took a short step on the left and watched as Anne slammed the sword on the hard floor, creating more sparkles on the impact. Her momentum though kept moving her forward, and all Sasha had to do was stretching out a leg.

Anne let out a yelp and found herself skidding on the floor a moment later, scraping an arm on the stone. Her grip on the hilt of the sword remained steadfast, though.

"Anne!" Sasha tried again to speak. She was by now realizing that overpowering Anne wasn't going to work, at least not fast enough to get out of here before the newt royal guard, or even anyone else among those who had defied the original plan of the rebellion, managed to reach the wall top and outnumber her.

"Listen, I… I'm sorry, for what happened, okay?!" It took a considerable amount of self-control to say those words, but Sasha knew that she had to leave aside her personal grievances with her friend. "I don't even care about the rebellion anymore. Just listen to me, King Andrias, you can't trust him! You have to get everyone, and the box, away from him, Anne!"

Anne lifted herself off the ground, the sword's hilt still firmly in her grip.

"You can lock me up after we're all safe, you can do whatever you want with me, but Andrias—!"

"SHUT UP!" Anne threw herself at Sasha again, the sword moving through the air. Sasha raised her sword to parry, but this time, it was hard enough that it pushed the blade away. Sasha cried out and ducked, the blade managing to take out a chunk of her upper hair and fringe and barely missing her scalp.

"Shut up! SHUT UP!" Anne kept screaming out, by this point crazed with fury, and striking again and again with her sword. Sasha tried to answer back with her own attacks, but Anne's sword slashes were somehow stronger than hers, and largely so.

Was that a blue hue she saw in her eyes?

She didn't have the time to dwell on it. Anne struck again, forcing Sasha to step back.

"Anne—!"

"I said to SHUT UP!" Anne cut her off, shouting as she fought. "I wish I never met you!" Another slash came down on Sasha. "I wish you never were there to boss me around!" The swords clashed again, and the pink one bounced away—Sasha almost losing her grip on what was basically the only thing preventing her from losing a chunk of flesh. "I wish you would just give up, and—"

Another strike. Sasha parried, and put all of her strength on it, both hands on the sword's hilt. She let out a grunt and somehow, she managed to hold her ground against Anne's last blow.

The two were now stuck in another locked state, the swords shaking under the pressure the two girls put on them as they tried to overwhelm one another.

"A-Anne—" Sasha tried to speak again.

"I wish you'd just SHUT THE HELL UP!"

When Sasha looked at Anne square in the eyes, she found no trace of openness. There was only fury in them… loathing, even.

She knew that it was no use trying over and over to talk with Anne by now. Her friend—by now, that word had stopped having much meaning—was just too far gone with her anger, unable to even consider Sasha's words as something worth a mere thought. No, whatever the way out of this mess was, it wasn't going to come through a mutual understanding between the two girls.

If she wanted a chance at getting that music box before the giant salamander did, all she could do was to stun Anne and leave her dizzy and disoriented for long enough to give her a moment to get away.

Sasha may have been angry at Anne as well, for defying her latest scheme once again, messing the rebellion up, and defeating her in combat for their second match-up. That animosity, though, right now was forgotten, replaced by a lucid determination in doing what she felt was the right thing.

Sasha gritted her teeth, using every bit of energy left in her body, and pushed. She cried out, using her legs to help her put even more pressure, and in a surprising display of strength, she finally managed to break the guard.

The sword flew forward, and there was a sound of flesh being torn.

"GAH!"

Sasha stepped back. For all intents and purposes, she should have just turned around and run for her life, moving along the wall to find a way down to the roof tops and make possible pursuers lose her tracks there while aiming for the throne room. It was the perfect chance!

But she saw red.

Anne's left shoulder was stained with red, the wet area getting larger by the second. It was impossible to see how much Sasha's sword had cut deep, or how large the injury was, but somehow, her slash had managed to pass over the amphibian armoured breastplate, striking with surgical precision the small part of the shoulder that wasn't covered by nothing but a shirt's sleeve.

And it didn't end here—there was a gash on Anne's left cheek as well. It wasn't a small cut that would heal up in a few days either, something comparable to the one Sasha still bore on her right cheek as a scar. It was a way deeper wound, perhaps not deep enough to almost go through, but enough to draw blood.

Anne was breathing hoarsely, her face hidden as her head hung slightly. Blood droplets fell off her face while the bloodied area on her shoulder kept covering more and more of her shirt. The zone where the blade had struck was a grimy mess.

"A-Anne—" Sasha had almost forgotten about Andrias, the rebellion, everything else. Seeing the amount of damage that a simple slash had managed to put on her friend had shocked her enough to leave her agape.

She was no stranger to violence and blood, first because of movies she watched at home with her friends against the better judgement of literally anyone older than them, and then on Amphibia, where training and later guiding an army of toads of course meant that casualties were to be expected.

But this was Anne. Someone she knew for years.

And she had wounded her.

Her friend.

"A-Anne… are you…?" she stammered. "Anne, I didn't—"

Her words died in her throat. Anne had lifted up her chin and was staring her down.

Her iris had turned completely blue.

"Shut…" an eerie echo surrounded her voice as she drawled.

"…UP!"

Anne flew forward. Sasha didn't know if she was flying or just running really fast, but it sure did feel like she was no more bound to the ground and other laws of physics.

Her sword was lifted using only one hand, the one not belonging to the injured limb, and she prepared for another strike. She was not slowed down by her wounds, no, far from it. She was even faster, stronger, madder.

Sasha raised own blade to counter, but she expected the hit to be strong enough to divert her weapon away. Thus, she prepared to duck in case her prediction proved right.

What she didn't expect, though, was that as soon as the metal of the two swords clashed, Anne's free hand flew into her face. It was inhuman how fast she was, how effortlessly she brandished her sword one-handed and then attacked right after in melee, throwing a punch with the injured limb as well.

Simply put, it was completely out of Sasha's league, and she had no way to defend herself from that.

The punch struck her, hitting square in an eye, and it send her stumbling back, leaving her groaning and lightheaded. There was a sudden surge of pain around her eyeball that quickly expanded around her entire head, disrupting her ability to stay put and control her stance.

However, Sasha still didn't let the sword go. She wasn't going down! She had to—

Another punch, and this time, it caught her chest. The light armour she was wearing should've been enough to protect her from most of the impact of a simple fist… instead, Sasha found herself in a coughing fit. It felt like she had been rammed into by a freaking rhino.

She felt like her throat was blocked by something and reached for it, the pink sword finally falling on the stone tiles of the walkway. The coughing didn't stop, and Sasha wheezed, her eyes tearing up as her body desperately tried to get air back into her lungs.

She didn't see it coming at first, but then, her eyes moved back to Anne. She was rushing forward, and the blade was pointed right at her, both of her hands gripping on it.

She was too fast to react.

"SHUT UP!"

Shlack!

…

The armour was supposed to protect her from slashes, and lighter ones at that. All of Sasha's training was focused on parrying, diverting and evading attacks and the subsequent counterattacks she could dish out, and the light armour—shoulder pad notwithstanding—was based on that strategy choice. It was basically a necessity.

But a thrust? It was nowhere as effective.

And the force Anne used was like the one of a siege-grade battering ram, crushing a portal down like it was butter.

At first, she didn't feel much, but then Sasha forced herself to look down.

She saw the blade's mid-point placed right in front of her chest. The other half of the sword was hidden away. Inside her body. Through it.

She raised a quivering hand, trying to reach out and grab it, but then she saw something else.

Red.

The blood was coming out along the sword's edges, and then down. It stained her armour and the cloth below it, and came out copiously, at spurts.

She tried with all of her might to reach the sword with her fingers, but her energy had depleted. With the thing impossible to deal with, Sasha left her hand fall down.

Then, she looked up.

At first, she saw a face full of hatred. Anne's ghostly blue eyes glared at her own, staring at her like a hero finally doing away with the villain that had made their life a living inferno for decades, done with their job and yet still pulsating with fury, despise and lack of empathy.

It didn't last long.

The blue gave out and in no time Anne's eyes were back to normal sans for a weak blue hinge lingering around her pupils.

Her eyes widened soon after.

"S-Sasha…!" she managed to blurt out, her voice cracking fast as her pupils moved with sudden jerks up and down, looking at Sasha's state, the sword, the wound, the blood. "S-S-Sasha, no, w-wait, no…!"

She was immobile and didn't move her hands away from the hilt. Sasha didn't know if she was doing so to avoid more damage, or if she was just frozen by fear.

She didn't want her to feel fear.

She opened her mouth to speak and tried to emit a sound.

All that came out was more blood.

She tried again. All she managed was a gurgle.

Her lungs were punctured. There was no air coming out of them.

Sasha was stubborn though. Even when the pain started to take hold, slowly invading every single neuron of her brain, she still tried to speak. For a few seconds, all she did was burbling, more and more blood coming out of her mouth. The metallic taste was foul enough to make her gag, but her stomach didn't react.

Anne was saying something, but she didn't hear it. There was also another voice nearby, but it felt far, far away from her.

She felt cold. She was in pain. She felt like she was being shot again and again on the chest. She felt the blood invading everything.

She saw red, and only red, and just wanted it to stop.

…

She didn't even know when Anne finally pulled the sword out.

It was just black.

…

Sprig knew that Anne needed her help as soon as he saw Sasha standing back up on the walkway at the top of the wall.

He didn't even wait for the girl to actually try and attack Anne. Leaving Grime behind—the toad was out cold enough that he knew he wasn't getting up anytime soon—Sprig had started hopping around the roofs, looking for the nearest building that was tall enough to create a path up to the walls that was quicker than the stairs.

Unfortunately, it took him a few minutes to find one and then execute the actual climbing up to the outer walls of Newtopia. And even then, he was forced to spend more precious seconds to hop like a crazy grasshopper on the wall in Anne's direction.

Sprig would've screamed his best friend's name when he saw what looked like Sasha getting a strike in, followed by Anne's yelp, but he was too busy heaving in breaths to force his amphibian body structure to keep moving as if he was warm-blooded. That may have been a disgusting thought, but it didn't matter.

Helping Anne before the duel could cause even more damage to her friend was more important than his stomach's opinions on the matter. Sasha had hurt her, and he had to stop her!

He was almost on them and had the catapult at ready. He made a last hop, long enough to cross several meters of space, and finally landed right on the outer edge of the Newtopia's walls, on the tip of a crenelation. He raised his weapon, ready to fire at Sasha and put an end to—

"SHUT UP!"

Shlack!

…

Sprig took a moment to register the scene.

One of Sasha's swords, the blue-tinted one, was stuck in her chest, piercing through the light armour. Sprig could see the other half coming on the other side of the girl's upper body, bloodied already.

Anne gripped on the sword and made no attempt to retract, divert or even just react to what she had just done. She simply stared at Sasha, unmoved.

Sprig's eyes were fixed on the sword though, and he failed to notice the blue in Anne's pupils.

Sasha lifted a hand, weak and shuddering, and tried to reach the sword as she stared at the amphibian-grade steel, made to cut through the naturally hard skin of some toad species as well as armour.

Spurts of red liquid suddenly came out of the wound, staining the metal. Some of the fluid fell on Anne's skirt and her legs. Sasha's hand fell down, devoid of energy.

"S-Sasha!"

Anne's voice managed to shake Sprig out of his trance. He looked at her friend and saw that whatever was in her place, whatever had made her almost unreceptive to… this, was gone. Now, he recognized the girl he knew.

One that was staring at someone she had just skewered right through.

"S-S-Sasha, no, w-wait, no…!" Anne stammered frantically but didn't move yet, not daring to even shake as her hands gripped on the sword's hilt.

Sasha was looking at Anne now. She opened her mouth, and it looked like she wanted to speak.

But she failed to pronounce any intelligible words.

Instead, the sound that came out of her mouth was the most horrible thing Sprig had ever heard in his short life.

And it didn't stop there. Sasha tried again, and again, and all she managed to create was more and more gurgling. More red liquid came out of her mouth, staining the armour above the wound as well, creating trails on her skin. Every gurgle was followed by more blood. She managed to croak something a bit louder, and it only ended up sputtering more red liquid outwards. It splattered on Anne's breastplate. Some fell on her face.

Anne was still unmoving, but her mouth was left hanging open as she still tried to say something. "S-Sasha, d-don't, don't speak! Don't! S-Stay put!"

Sasha either didn't listen, or didn't hear her. Another horrific burble came out of her mouth.

Sprig had been staring the entire time, unable to say anything at first, but Anne's scared tone was enough to push him to say something. But what could he say? Hop-Pop had taught him about some basics of first aid, maybe, very useful since the wilderness in Amphibia was home to a lot of dangerous animals capable of inflicting cutting wounds as well. But all of it was based on Amphibian's physiology.

There was not supposed to be that amount of… red fluid, coming out a body. There was not supposed to be so much… red.

It was not supposed to happen that fast.

Something clicked in Anne, and finally, she pulled the sword out with a jerk. Whether that was done out of reflex, because she was desperate, because she didn't know and she just had to do something, Sprig wasn't sure. He could only watch as she did so.

Sasha gurgled out again, taking a single step back. Then, she fell on her side with a dull thump.

The pool of red was getting larger every second, but she still jerked a little, her body shuddering. It looked like she tried to raise an arm as well.

Another gurgle, lower than the previous ones in loudness, and another blood discharge left her mouth. Sasha's arm fell abruptly, her trembling hands stopped to shake immediately.

Another couple of seconds. Her eyes stopped moving as well but were left open.

And then…

She was limp.

…

Sprig failed to say something. Instead, he doubled over and started throwing up the breakfast they had earlier that day, almost falling off the crenelation in the process.

Amphibians had a peculiar way to vomit, nowhere near as violent as humans', and the process was able to cleanly empty their stomach in the span of a few seconds. It was very effective; what was not different compared to humans, though, were the causes of such a symptom. It could be because they ate something poisonous, because of a sickness hitting them… or much more simply, because something they saw made them do so.

Sprig was no different. The sight was simply unbearable.

He was done in three seconds. He ignored the bad taste that was left in his mouth and the only slightly annoying feeling of acid still coming up his gullet; rather, he looked up to see where Anne was.

She was on her knees beside Sasha, the sword left abandoned on the floor seconds earlier.

"Sasha! SASHA!"

Anne lifted Sasha off the floor from her shoulders and shook her, again and again.

"Sasha, y-you don't get to l-leave me here! We have to—I'm gonna listen, Sasha, I will listen! I'm listening, Sash, j-just speak to me! Sasha! I didn't—I didn't wanna to—! Sasha!"

Sasha's head was completely limp. It moved left and right, shaken by Anne's jolts, but otherwise didn't react further. Her hands didn't move as well, her hands simply lying still on the stone. Her eyes looked vacuous, staring forward, unresponsive. Her mouth remained open, blood droplets still coming out.

"SASHA!"

No reply.

Anne let her go, and Sasha's body fell back with a thud, almost splashing on the largest puddles of blood that were filling the crevices in the stone floor.

Sprig decided he had to ignore the undisputable confirmation that death had taken its toll on the young girl. He did it because of Anne, because now more than ever, Anne needed him, and she needed him now.

"A-Anne… Anne, it's me…!" Sprig hopped down the crenelations and approached Anne. He tried his best to keep his gaze on her, and her alone. "A-Anne, just, get away from—!"

Anne suddenly stood up with a jerk. She turned at him.

Blue. Bright blue eyes, staring at him, bright enough to light up the surroundings even with a blue hue.

Sprig was frightened at first, unable to comprehend what was happening to her friend. However, he saw no hatred in her eyes.

He just saw misery and shock, and there was no way he was going to stand down and let her friend suffer like that.

"S-Stay AWAY from me!" Anne cried out, stepping back when Sprig didn't get away and instead kept walking closer. Her voice had an eerie echo, but that didn't deter Sprig, either.

"A-Anne, wait, just, calm d-down!"

"Stay away! Get AWAY!" Anne repeated. "Don't get closer! Sprig, just stay a-away from me! Leave me!"

"Anne, I want to help you!" Sprig replied, feeling more and more confident in his words as he approached her. Anne kept walking back, away from Sasha, towards the inner edge of the wall. "Just… calm down. I'm here, it's over. It's all right!"

"IT'S NOT, SPRIG!" Anne screamed. "I KILLED HER!"

"Y-You…"

He wanted to help Anne, but he couldn't state a lie outright in front of her. Stating that she couldn't control it, that it was an accident due to the fight was not going to help either, he thought. It was not what she needed right now.

But it dawned to him that he didn't know what she needed. He didn't know what to do.

"I killed her… I-I'm… I'm a…" Anne cried again, tears coming down from her eyes. The salty water drops a striking contrast with the blood stains all over her skin, her armour and clothes. The wound on her shoulder pulsed enough that she was forced to grip on it with her right hand, but it did little to distract her from her racing thoughts.

She stared at her right hand. Those fingers… those hands, the ones she used to lift Sasha up and try to shake her awake.

The same ones she used seconds earlier to drive the blade into her chest, without hesitation, without a single second where she thought twice about what she was going to do.

They were almost completely drenched with red.

Her friend's blood was on her hands.

Anne screamed, turned around and jumped off the edge before Sprig could do anything.

"Anne, no!"

Sprig hopped to the rim of the walkway and was prepared to jump out himself immediately to go after Anne.

But he didn't. Instead, he saw an almost dazzling blue light. A blue beam, moving sinuously, was coming out of the castle, far in the distance, and ran all the way up to the wall, somewhere below Sprig.

He narrowed his eyes to look and saw something come up from the bright blue and white sphere that the beam was connected with. The silhouette became recognizable soon enough, and he saw a familiar humanoid shape.

"ANNE!"

Anne turned around. In the distance, it wasn't very clear, but Sprig had no doubt that this was his friend.

Even if her hair had turned completely blue, even if there was a blue fiery aura burning around her body, even if she was flying. It was still her.

"Anne!" Sprig shouted again, calling out her name. He had no idea what was happening in terms of the technicalities, but it didn't take a genius for him to understand what she was likely going to do.

"Don't go, Anne! Don't! It's okay, Anne! I'm here—we're here for you! ANNE!"

He never knew if she replied. He only heard another cry of despair from her, and then an echoing, deafening noise, almost akin to a thunderbolt falling right in the centre of the city.

And then, she was gone, along with every bit of blue energy nearby. She had effectively disappeared, bolting through the deeper parts of Newtopia. Whether she was going to stop there or leave the place entirely, was up to anyone's guess.

There were voices behind Sprig. Multiple newt guards were now swarming around the walkway, and one of them moved beside him, agitating a hand to check if he was all right. Sprig didn't react, nor did he reply when the guard tried to talk with him.

Then, he heard a girl's scream as well, ear-piercing and awful, from nearby. There was some sort of scuffle. More voices. He thought he recognized Yunan shouting an order. The sharp cries didn't stop—they called a name, again and again.

As much as it felt wrong to do so, he didn't react to any of that as well. The sight of Sasha's limp, broken body was also far from his thoughts, even if just momentarily.

All he could think about right now, was Anne.

He simply looked at the town, unable to accept that he had been helpless to stop her from leaving him, from leaving them all. To stop… everything from happening.

He was too slow.

It was a complete nightmare, and he was the one behind it.

AN: Technically speaking I just wanted to write down this piece—and the end here is where the original idea stops. However, it's clear that exploring an aftermath is the bare minimum to not make this story feel as an incomplete snippet, and I feel like that reimagining the events of 'True Colours' in the wake of this first chapter is something I should and could try to do at least. And I will try to do so, though I can't say I'll be able to succeed there.

If they come, updates most likely will take quite a while, at the very least coming after the premiere of Season 3. In case I decide to stop here, though, I will re-tag the story accordingly and warn for the unsolved cliff-hanger—but until then, this is marked as incomplete and on-going.

It's also been a while since I last tried writing graphic-violence-related angst, and the first time I avoided a fading to black or similar technique and stuck with the scene up to the very end. Apologies if it isn't flawless; any thoughts you might want to share on the results here are appreciated.