Lady picked up the phone even though she knew no one would answer. She reached out to dial the number and—oh, wait, that was right, she was all out of blood crystals. She spent the last of them on 24, and without… to replenish her supply, to leave more in the most ridiculous of places, she was still broke. What had her very last purchase been? Cursed to remember, even though she wanted desperately to forget.

And yet, as cruel fate would have it, even though she would remember that purchase, she wouldn't remember how it came to this. How had things changed so much? The island, the Syndicate, herself. Paradise felt…wrong. Different. And not in a good way. It didn't feel better, the way she thought it was supposed to.

She thought she'd stayed the same. 8000 years of nothing except endless repetition day in and day out meant she was frozen in time. The fire in her never died, she was still an investigator at heart, so she hadn't changed at all. And yet, that was what everyone on the island seemed to think. Maybe they didn't always say it out loud, but she could sense that the version of her that came back to 24 was not the version of her they remembered from 13. She was sure they were wrong. Maybe it was them who changed, since they'd been able to move through time while she hadn't. But if they changed, maybe that was why everything felt different.

Or maybe it really was the exile, just in general. To be released after 8000 years in isolation only to immediately be thrust into the bloody heart of a giant murder conspiracy was just too much too fast. Maybe she thought she could handle it, and maybe she technically did, but what did she do once the dust settled and the smoke cleared? How did she process it? Not just the murder case, but all 8000 years preceding it.

Are you happy with your truths? Did you get the convictions you wanted? You entered a battle; did you emerge victorious?

Not necessarily. In a way. A pyrrhic victory.

25 was gorgeous, truly a stunning work of art, a masterpiece. It was a shame not everyone was here to enjoy it. The bar was ready, the roads were ready, but the people who were supposed to use them were not. Still holding the phone to her ear, Lady turned away from the keypad to look over her shoulder. There was such a lot of road to travel, such a lot of new island to explore. Wasn't this enough? Wouldn't this have satisfied them? Or… would it had left them just as hollow as her, now?

I found all the truths and all the facts, did exactly as I was supposed to, proved to the world that I'm still the best investigator Paradise has ever seen. I've fulfilled my purpose, so why…?

"You were supposed to meet me here, just like last time," she said into the phone. It was too late to make the call, but she could still try.

On 24, Paradise felt wrong. She chalked it up to the murder, and that was surely part of it, but were there other, smaller clues pointing to another problem that she failed to see entirely? Was there another mystery she missed because of all the time wasted on the first? Now she twisted around even further. She couldn't see Island 24 from here. Of course she couldn't, it was long gone, lost in another dimension entirely, crumbling and burning with thousands of bodies burning with it.

What use was there in worrying about the past? A detective was supposed to look forward, towards the answer, not the question. They made their choice, she made hers, simple as that. But… was it? Because… now what did she do? She made her choice, and now she was here, but what did that mean? What came next? Maybe she couldn't see Island 24, but she could see the road, and the reddening sky.

I guess I forgot. Even the sun sets in paradise. But this time, she wasn't so sure she'd ever see the sun rise again. Or had she been stuck in darkness longer than she thought, the shadows obscuring her vision so much that she wasn't even aware of how wrong it all was until the nightmare was over?

It felt strange being on Island 24, with Lydia and Sam again. How was she supposed to talk to them? To the friends she hadn't seen in 8000 years? In some ways, it felt like talking to strangers. They'd grown closer in her absence while she'd grown farther. She got into the car and went to the bar, that much felt the same, and the painting and the beer glass were also the same, but why did everything else feel different? What was it that felt different? For all of her detective skill, thatwas the one thing she was never able to pin down. And when she entered that bar, did she greet them warmly, or with a polite distance? There was so much about them she didn't know anymore… So much…

I can't believe this. You say I'M the one who changed? YOU'RE the ones who killed Paradise, who turned your backs and forgot what we used to stand for! You betrayed me long before I ever betrayed you! But… was it my fault? Island 13… Was I the one who killed Paradise?

But how?! How could you do this?! Knowing the consequences! Not knowing if you'd ever even see me again first… Did you forget? Did I forget? Did we both get so lost in our single-minded visions that we forgot the larger picture, and the old times? I… I… loved… But you wasted…

But love dies. Just like the "immortals", love could be killed. Just like paradise, love could set and die.

Lady wasn't going to be ok for a very long time. She knew they wouldn't care. They couldn't care. Not anymore. Maybe she deserved that.

It felt strange being on Island 25. She got into the car and went to the bar, that much felt the same. She even saw a man and a woman at the table, ghosts of her past, but they weren't Sam and Lydia.

"Love Dies."

"…Isaiah." A pause. "Complex."

"Love Dies."

This was what talking to Sam and Lydia felt like sometimes, even though they managed to go beyond hollowly echoing names. It hadn't hurt as badly as this, though. She gave a curt nod, one that they both returned, but they were smiling while she was not.

"Care to join us for a drink?" Did Isaiah really miss her, or was this just an act of pity? He had no idea what had happened on 24.

I care for a drink, but…

Oh, how things had changed. She knew there was a good chance this meeting would happen eventually, but to do it alone…

"I'm… out of blood crystals." The music playing in the bar was so… tacky. It wasn't what Sammy used to play. She hated it.

"Drinks on us?"

She shook her head, then gave a nod of farewell, then exited the bar. She didn't want to drink anything that didn't come from Sammy. She chose to walk instead of ride, leaving the car in the one parking spot the bar had to offer. She'd come back for it later.

Now she was at a payphone, neither time nor money on her side. Paradise felt wrong. She'd fulfilled her purpose, so why didn't she…? All the stories about triumph after victory, and victory after battle, were only that: stories, just as fictious as some of the myths they told about their gods… just as fictious as the conversation Lady was having with the person on the other end of the line.

There was still so much left to say. 8000 years and a day wasn't enough. But then again, it was 8000 years apart. Maybe she had changed. If only she could've realized sooner. But then again, back then, she hadn't known what to say because she'd scarcely realized there was anything to say at all. It was just…awkward. Familiar, but not the same, like facts and truths. But unlike facts and truths, there was no chance for a closer look or a second inspection. But even though it was too late to make the call, she could still try.

She poked at the keypad uselessly, bitterly, growling to herself when it did nothing in response to her touch.

If only I hadn't wasted those stupid blood crystals on that stupid last ride. Maybe I would've been able to make the stupid call. Even though nobody would've answered either way.

If only stupid Shinji could've just come to this stupid island so he could leave more stupid blood crystals in more stupid places. Even though Shinji was too weak to survive a trip across multiple dimensions, his fate sealed even before Island 24 breathed its last.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. The keypad was blurry now. She must've spent hours staring at it. This wasn't how they were supposed to spend their first day on Island 25. This wasn't how their first conversation was supposed to go. It seemed as if all of Paradise's new promises were just as empty as the old ones. Nothing was happening the way she was told it would. She'd done all of this for Paradise, but Paradise hadn't done a thing for her.

It was getting colder and darker. Lady hardly noticed. Maybe that was for the best. She could tell that she was in for a long night, and she wouldn't see daylight again. Paradise wouldn't be the same without them. But oh well, she'd gone 8000 years already. Maybe that was just a warmup for the lonely eternity waiting for her up ahead. What was it that she'd said the first time she met Lydia on the docks?

It's good to be back. She'd missed the island more than she thought she would, but now it was gone again. 25 would never be her home.

This was the new "normal", though. She'd made her choice. All the old strangeness was gone forever. Where had it gone? Everything felt so upside down and dark that she couldn't see anything anymore; not past nor present nor future. And things didn't just look blurry, they were just… gone, except for the unresponsive keypad in front of her. She was silent, but the phone was still pressed against her ear.

AN: Angsty sequel to Paradise Killer where you choose the "true ending" route.