Pacifica hated biking up the hill leading back home.
Riding a bicycle wasn't exactly something she particularly enjoyed. Not long ago, she'd had her personal chauffeur to tend to her every need. Now… well, in truth, it wasn't as if she didn't have other options. Tate always offered to drive her around town if she needed, and now she had Soos being his overly helpful self as well. She rarely accepted their offers. No matter how much her life had changed in those last few months, old habits ran deep. She was a Northwest, and Northwests didn't accept handouts.
The bike had been the only concession she had accepted. Apparently, it had belonged to Sherry's niece. When Pacifica had told her she would pay back every penny the bicycle had cost, the woman had laughed.
"You're sweet, honey," Sherry had said, "but sometimes people do things for others just to be nice."
Pacifica kept this thought in mind as she pedalled up the hill, gritting her teeth from the effort. Sherry had needed some medicine from the drug store; little Harper had caught a cold, and she was running a high fever. Tate was at work, while Soos had spent the whole night helping his girlfriend with some stupid paperwork. McGucket, for his part, had more or less barricaded himself in his office to direct the crab bots in their repairs of the portal. The old man was getting more and more frantic by the day, in a way that made him resemble his old, nuttier self.
And so, Pacifica had volunteered to run Sherry's errands over the last week. She hated every second of it, but she kept her mouth shut, burying her grievances deep. Nothing was ever freely given, that much she knew since tender childhood.
Pacifica stopped in the middle of the hill, hoping to catch her breath. The sky was overcast, and it was unusually chilly for a day in early July. Goosebumps prickled the bare skin of Pacifica's arms as the wind whipped at her.
"Stupid bike," she muttered. "Stupid agents. Stupid portal." After a while, she added, face scrunched up, "Stupid Dipper and stupid Mabel." Oh, her life would be so much easier if she still hated those two! Why did she try to become friends with them again?
She was taken out of her thoughts by the sound of gravel being crunched under a tire. Pacifica whirled on her heel, seeing a car pulling over in the spot behind her.
Three people in black suits got out of the car. The driver was a familiar red-haired fellow, and Pacifica froze like a deer in headlights as she met his gaze. It took her a precious few seconds to regain control of her limbs, but when she did, she bolted in the opposite direction, fumbling to get her cellphone out of her purse.
"Stop her!" the red-haired agent shouted.
Pacifica screamed as someone caught her arm, yanking her backward. The other agent snatched her phone from her hand, throwing it at the ground. Pacifica fought back with everything she had, scratching and kicking at her aggressors. She screamed again, at the top of her lungs, when she realized they were dragging her back to the car.
By the time she was inside, Pacifica was sure she'd given a black eye to one of her captors. The other was nursing a bite on her arm.
"You bastards!" Pacifica shrieked. "Let me go, LET ME GO!"
"Stop screaming!" the red-haired agent—Agent Blauer, yes, that was his name—shouted back.
"I'll scream all I want! You kidnapped me!"
Blauer glowered at Pacifica, teeth bared and jaw clenched tight. After a while, he passed a hand through his hair and forced out a smile. "Just… calm down, kid, okay? You've got nothing to fear from us. We're just trying to see if you're…" He inhaled deeply, and seemed to ponder his words for a moment. "Well, if you're open to cooperation. We just want to work out a deal, you see?"
"A deal? A DEAL?!" Pacifica shrieked. "Are you out of your mind?!"
"You're treading on thin ice, young lady," Blauer said, waving a finger at her. "You and your little group of friends. Refusing to help in our investigation is one thing. Outright sabotage… that's a whole another story."
"Sabotage?" Pacifica said. "What sabotage?"
Blauer's smile twitched for a moment. "Fischer, show her what I mean."
The agent next to Pacifica shoved his phone into her face. Blurred pictures of a mechanical device appeared on the screen, only adding to her confusion. Other photographs showed what appeared to be a bunch of wires; they seemed to have been chewed on by animal teeth.
"What is that supposed to be?" Pacifica said, mimicking the tone her mother used to berate servants for the littlest of blunders.
"Someone's messing with our equipment," Blauer said, "and it's slowing down our investigation. Do you know how much time—no, how much of the taxpayers' money we've lost so far?"
Pacifica leaned back into her seat, feigning nonchalance. "Why do you think I have anything to do with this? I'm not dumb enough to destroy your stupid equipment. And neither are the others." She hoped they would not realize just how loudly her heart was beating. Someone was sabotaging their scanning device? Who? And why?
Again, his oily demeanour faltered. "I didn't come all this way only for a bunch of small-town hicks to make a fool out of me. You'll help us, you little brat, or else—"
"Help you?! You assaulted me! You broke my phone!" Pacifica shuddered in rage and disgust. "I'm going to sue, and I'll sweat every penny I can from that stupid agency of yours!"
"Is that so?" Blauer said, sneering. "You must understand… it's your word against ours." He turned to look at the two agents. "Do you remember assaulting her, dear colleagues?"
"No," said the first.
"Definitely not," said the second.
"As for your phone," Blauer said, "it fell out of your pocket when you ran after we so nicely asked if you could answer a few questions. You're part of a group of youths who repeatedly antagonized us. Why would anyone take your side?"
"Repeatedly antagonized? We didn't do anything, you creep!"
Blauer slammed his hands on the driving wheel, and Pacifica recoiled, heart skipping a beat. Terror shot through her, and suddenly it was the cold, disdainful gaze of another man she saw through Blauer's eyes. Her father had rarely acted in such an uncouth manner—he had better means of controlling her—but he had never been exactly what you called a warm person.
"Don't make me lose any more of my precious time, Ms. Northwest," Agent Blauer growled. "No one else would have reason to tamper with our investigation. With each of your lies, you just keep just digging yourself a deeper grave."
"I'm a kid," Pacifica said, gathering what strength she could to appear aloof. "You can't exactly send me to prison."
"You're right on that front, true," Blauer said. "You're a minor, after all. But what about your companions?" He flashed her a smile. "Like that old man? Fiddleford McGucket? You live with him, right?"
"I'm renting a room at his place, yes," Pacifica said, feeling apprehensive, all of a sudden. "My parents pay the rent."
"He was a close collaborator of Stanford Pines, wasn't he? That's what our files said. Would he know anything?"
Pacifica's cheeks drained of blood. "Leave him out of this! He doesn't know anything!"
"Struck a nerve, it seems." There was a flash of vindication in his eyes. "Perhaps he helped with Dr. Pines' secret project. He certainly would have the necessary expertise." His expression suddenly grew serious. "You know we'll find out what's under that sorry excuse for a house, eventually. It's just a matter of time. Tell me what I want, and the old man gets off scot free."
Pacifica suddenly wished she had a better poker face. Agent Blauer was smirking at her, clearly enjoying her dismay. What would happen if—when—the agents did find the portal in the underground lab? In the absence of Dr. Pines, McGucket would probably serve as a handy scapegoat. For some reason, the thought twisted Pacifica's stomach.
"So?" Blauer said. "Would you like to come with us and tell us what you know, Ms. Northwest? Do we have a deal?"
Pacifica looked at his smug face, hands tightening over her knees. The others would surely come to her aid—heck, Wendy and the girls would probably be all too happy to mount a rescue. Of course, Pacifica knew it wasn't because they particularly cared about her as a person. No one was that stupidly selfless.
That was another lesson she had learned early.
Pacifica crossed her arms over her chest. "Alright. I'm willing to hear you out."
Dipper could feel a hint of something as Kyan began the necessary chant for the ritual.
It wasn't the first time he noticed this strange sensation. Whenever Kyan cast a spell, the air crackled, making the hair on the back of Dipper's neck stand on end. Was it the natural energy Kyan kept talking about, the one that powered every spell on Mictlan? Dipper had no way of knowing if his theory was true.
He wished this stupid ritual took less time to cast. Even with his head propped up on a mountain of pillows, Dipper wasn't exactly comfortable, lying on the cold stone floor of the library. His hands were sweaty, and his teeth wouldn't stop chattering. In the distance, he could still hear shouts and other noises of battle. Next to him, Grunkle Ford continued to groan and toss in his magically induced sleep. Dipper forced himself to swallow; they would all be fine, he kept telling himself, Mabel and Kyan's sister would get rid of those looters, and Dipper would find a way inside his uncle's mind and—
With a great gasp, Grunkle Ford suddenly sat up.
If he hadn't been lying on the ground, Dipper would have jumped ten feet in the air. Kyan screamed, and immediately the strange energy that had been building up in the room dissipated. Only the faint odour of ozone remained.
"Grunkle Ford!" Dipper reached to hug him, only to stop when he saw his uncle wincing in response. "You're back, oh my god, I'm so glad…"
Ford panted for a moment, eyes riveted on his shaking hands. "I'm… back?" He inspected his surroundings, nodding frantically. "Yes, yes, I remember now… the library, the ritual, you and your—" Ford cut off, face going white. "Your sister! Where is she?!"
There was the telltale sound of Grunkle Ford's laser gun going off in the distance, followed by… laughter? Ford climbed back to his feet on shaky legs, letting out a muttered curse.
"Whoa!" Dipper said, helping him so he wouldn't fall to the ground. "Take it easy, Grunkle Ford!"
"What's happening? Where's Mabel? Is there… is there a fight going on?"
"You guys!" Kyan said, gesturing wildly. "I don't mean to be rude, but we really should go help the girls."
"Help the girls?" Ford's face grew even paler. "What do you mean?"
"You're right, Kyan," said Dipper. "C'mon, Grunkle Ford, we need to go! We'll tell you everything on the way."
Grunkle Ford seemed barely able to stand on his own two feet at first. Still, the more they approached the source of the sounds, the stronger and faster he got. By the end, Dipper could barely keep up with his long strides.
Eventually, they were near the entrance hall. The noises of the battle had died down; somehow, that only made Dipper's heart pound faster.
"BOW!" boomed a familiar voice. "Bow to your queen, oh poor wretches, and I'll think to spare your miserable lives!" Mabel punctuated this speech with a laugh that would have put any good cartoon villain to shame.
Dipper and the others irrupted into the entrance hall. Mabel was standing with her hands on her hips, jutting out her chin at five figures lying prone on the ground. The ruffians were in a sorry state; some were holding their heads, groaning, while others sported broken teeth and a vast array of bruises. Zuri poked at one of them with the butt of her energy spear, snorting as he moaned in pain.
"Mabel!" Grunkle Ford called out.
Mabel whirled toward them, face brightening into a smile. "GRUNKLE FORD!"
She rushed toward him to crush his midsection into a hug. Grunkle Ford let out something halfway between a chuckle and a wheeze.
"Oh my god, I'm so glad you're alright!" Mabel said. "You just wouldn't wake up!"
"I'm sorry for worrying you," Ford told her. "Just… what on earth is going on? Who are these people?"
"Oh!" Mabel said brightly. "It's those guys you scared off, Grunkle Ford! They decided to come back with more of their friends. One of them even did magic!"
"For all the good it did them in the end," Zuri said with a smirk.
"Yeah!" said Mabel. "They were all, arghhh, we're angry and stuff, we're here to kick your ass! And we were like, yeah, sure, just try, suckas! And I went all pew-pew-pew stunning these guys with your laser gun, and Zuri kept bonking their heads with her spear, and it was epic and—"
She was so caught up in her story that she didn't see one of the ruffians struggling back to his feet. With a shaky hand, the man drew something in the air, making Dipper's heart skip a beat.
His legs seemed to act of their own accord, and soon Dipper found himself in front of Mabel. His hand moved to draw a certain symbol in the air. A part of him was screaming that it was stupid to try a half-baked theory he hadn't even tested before.
Of course, that part of him was insignificant next to the part that made him shout, "NOT MY SISTER, YOU CREEP!"
A ball of fire was surging toward Dipper. He squeezed his eyes shut, holding his hands in front of him and hoping for the best. Behind him, Mabel and Grunkle Ford were screaming his name.
Through closed eyelids, Dipper spied a hint of blue light flaring in front of him. He felt a bright, but brief heat on his open palms. Dipper cracked one eye open, seeing the ball of fire rushing back to the man who had cast the spell. It sent him flying, and he hit a column. With a pained groan, he slid to the ground, head lolling.
"Holy moly!" Mabel cried out. "Dipper! You… you…"
Dipper offered her a wavering grin. "H-Hey, it's okay, no need to freak out, you know? Everything's fi—oof!" She'd brought him into one of her bone-crushing hugs.
"Dipper, that was amazing!" Kyan exclaimed. "How did you do that?"
"I… I used that counterspell symbol we found in the library," Dipper explained as Mabel finally let go of him. "When he was drawing his sigil, I felt something… like I could sense the energy he was using to cast his spell. I think… I think I used that to send the spell back to him."
Kyan's eyes shone with admiration. "That's brilliant, Dipper!"
Dipper scratched the back of his neck, suddenly self-conscious. "Well, it's not… I mean, I just…"
"It was brilliant, yes," Grunkle Ford said. "It also made me age ten years in the span of a few seconds."
"Sorry, Great Uncle Ford," Dipper said, sheepishly.
Ford smiled at him, putting a hand over his shoulder. "Don't worry, my boy. I won't scold you for wanting to protect your sister."
Dipper looked up at him; Grunkle Ford sounded so sad, and so tired.
One of the goons gave a moan. Zuri kicked at him, prompting another grunt of pain from him. "So," she said, "what do we do with those jokers?"
"Well, they had their lesson, I think," Mabel said. "Right, boys?"
One of them looked blearily at her. "Uh… looting temples is bad?"
"And…?" Mabel prompted.
"Don't mess with a Pines," he muttered. "Whatever that is."
Mabel made finger guns at him. "Ye-ep! I'm glad to have contributed to your education! Now, shoo, shoo! Go and use that newfound knowledge to make the world a better place!"
The man let himself fall to the floor with another groan.
A few hours later, Ford and the children were sitting around a campfire in the temple courtyard.
Kyan had made them some tea, for which Ford was very grateful. The adrenaline that had previously coursed through his veins was gone, leaving him quite drained. The children watched him with careful eyes as he sipped from his cup. Their curiosity was almost palpable.
"So," Dipper began, hands wrapped around his own cup, "what happened? Did you find anything?"
Ford frowned. "So neither of you followed me back there, did you?"
"Neither of us?" said Mabel. "What are you talking about, Grunkle Ford?"
"We didn't get into your mind, if that's what you're asking," said Dipper. "I was about to, but you woke up before Kyan could finish casting the spell."
"Really?" Ford snorted out a laugh. "Either you kids became integral part of my conscience or the Axolotl just played therapist at my expense."
The twins exchanged the same look of confusion.
"What's that's supposed to mean, Grunkle Ford?" Dipper said.
Meanwhile, Kyan sputtered, "T-The Axolotl? He actually exists? It's not just stories?"
"Yes, he does exist," Ford said. "Strange fellow, but nice, in his own way."
"I can't believe it!" Kyan said, shaking his head. "The Axolotl's real. And I…" He wheezed, eyes going wide. "I actually helped! I cast the ritual that brought Mr. Ford to him! Oh my stars, Zuri—"
"Calm down, bro," Zuri said, clearly stifling a laugh. "Don't you hyperventilate on me."
Kyan grew a deeper shade of blue, making Mabel giggle. She pointedly looked at her brother, who rolled his eyes.
"So, does that make you an Oracle or something?" Zuri asked Ford. "What did the Axolotl tell you?"
Twin pairs of brown eyes turned to Ford, and he felt his courage faltering.
("They love him so much!" he remembered screaming at the Axolotl. "How dare you do that to them?")
"Bill Cipher's dead," he blurted out. "The Axolotl scattered his consciousness across the multiverse when Stan defeated him."
"Scattered his consciousness?" asked Dipper. "What does that even mean?"
"Wait," said Kyan, "they can't finish the ritual to bring him back, then." Everyone turned to look at him, and he squirmed on his spot, clearly uncomfortable with the scrutiny.
"What do you mean?" Dipper said.
"They need their Master's soul to put it inside your uncle's mind," Kyan explained. "But if what Mr. Ford said is true, then that soul doesn't exist anymore. It's been broken into millions, no billions of pieces! One for every dimension in the multiverse!"
"Could they get hold of all those pieces?" Ford asked. "Could they put back together Bill Cipher's soul?"
Kyan shook his head. "I-I don't know... if they could, that ritual would need a tremendous amount of magical energy…"
Ford sighed. The children seemed to ponder on his words, sipping their tea in silence. For his part, Ford only watched the flames dancing over the logs. He knew there was something else he needed to tell the children; was he strong enough to do it without crushing their hearts into fine dust?
"Did the Axolotl tell you anything about the Oracle?" Dipper asked, after a while. "Or about what we can do to save Grunkle Stan?"
"Yeah! This Axolotl guy must know how we could help him!"
They sounded so hopeful, and Ford felt a sob hitching in his throat. How could he ever tell the twins that the man they so desperately wanted to save had tormented and nearly murdered them in a past life?
"The Oracle might still be alive," Ford said, choosing not to focus on Stan for now. He would tell the children the truth, yes, but not while Kyan and Zuri were within hearing distance. "I think they might be keeping her beneath the Temple of Dawn."
Zuri became a shade paler, while her brother gasped.
"She's been captive for over ten years?" Kyan said. "That's… that's horrible!"
"Kyan, don't you realize…" Zuri said hoarsely. "If they kept alive, then maybe…"
Hope showed in Kyan's eyes. "Then maybe Mom and Dad are still…"
Mabel jumped to her feet, striking a heroic pose. "It's all set, then!" she said. "We'll save Grunkle Stan and that Oracle lady and your parents too! We'll save all of them!"
Ford chuckled. "Seems like a plan. Well, I'm in."
"Yeah," Dipper said, a grim look settling on his face. "I'm all for taking the fight to them."
"Good," Ford, taking a sip and setting down his cup. "Beating up a bunch of crazy cultists is going to be a rather cathartic experience, I think."
Both twins responded to this statement with cheers. Ford couldn't hide his smile; Stan would have been proud of his little gremlins.
Stan felt liked he'd been walking for days.
The darkness stretched as far as his eyes—no his eye, goddammit, that would take time to get used to—could see. Yet, Stan kept on advancing, punctuating each step with muttered curses. If there was one thing he'd perfected over sixty years of living, it was doing things out of stubbornness and spite.
Of course, things would have been easier if his travelling companion wasn't so goddamn annoying.
I still can't understand why you wanna go back the way you came! the glitchy, humanoid figure said in his strangely high-pitched voice. It's a long way back, you know!
"Don't care," Stan said. "I gotta go back, so I'm going back. End of discussion."
Okay! the guy said. He was almost more chipper than Soos, which wasn't something Stan could have thought possible. I'll keep you company, then!
"Great," Stan said. "Jus' what I wanted."
Glad to help!
Stan groaned; even Soos would have detected the sarcasm dripping from those words.
They walked together for a while, Stan remaining silent while the glitchy guy chattered about inconsequential things. Eventually, Stan's frustration reached its peak. He stopped, taking a loud breath through his nose. "So, like, are you gonna follow me everywhere or…?"
Well, someone needs to guide you down the right path when you're finished with whatever you're doing! The figure tilted his head. You didn't answer my question earlier. Why are you going back the way you came?
"There's somethin' I need to do. You wouldn't understand." Stan frowned. "So, what should I call you? Considering how you intend to be a thorn in my side all the way, we'd better get on first-name basis, you know."
Oh, I have a lot of names. The first time we met, you called me Frills. The second time, you called me Pooch!
Stan raised one eyebrow at the glitchy figure. He didn't remember meeting the freak. Then again, it wouldn't be the first time Stan's shitty memory failed him, would it?
"Let's go with Frills, then. Why do you wanna help me, anyway?"
I like twins! I have a twin, you know!
"You don't say," Stan said, voice dry as sandpaper.
Haven't seen him in a while, Frills added sadly. I miss him.
"Why? You got in a fight with 'im?"
Oh no, it's just… he has his own thing, and I have mine. He sighed, which was strange, coming from someone who was so freaky looking. It's been so long. We're almost strangers now.
Stan scoffed. "Why are you givin' up without even tryin'? Jus' reach out to him. Maybe he misses you too."
Frills' simple line of a mouth curled into a big smile. You think so?
"You won't know until you try," Stan said. "What's stopping you?"
The glitchy figure seemed deep in thought. What's stopping me indeed, he said eventually.
They kept on walking, though now the silence hanging between them seemed less heavy, somehow. Finally, Stan spied something in the distance.
A gaping maw ripped the darkness apart. Colours dripped from the wound, so bright and garish it was almost painful to look at. The hair on the back of Stan's neck stood on end. All of his instincts were screaming at him to stay away from this thing.
Stan continued forward without hesitation.
You're going back there? Frills asked. It won't be pleasant, you know. You could have saved yourself some heartache if you had just followed me back to—
"Yeah, so, shut it," Stan told him, gruffly. "I know what's waiting for me back there, and I don't care. And if you can't accept that, then jus' stay here and sulk."
Alright. Do what you think is right, Stanley Pines.
And Stan stepped into the hole.
He found a world on fire, with a sky as red as blood. Stan flailed in the air for a while, seeing the ground rapidly approaching. The air was knocked out of his lungs as he hit the dirt, one of his arms taking the brunt of the impact. Gritting his teeth from the pain, Stan stood up on wobbly feet. He was surrounded by the charred remains of a forest and the remnants of a house. His house, from the happy family pictures hanging on the bits of wall still standing around him.
Not far away, a great structure loomed above the ruins. A throne made of writhing statues that screamed silently. A throne that brought back horrifying memories to the forefront of Stan's mind.
A throne on which a grey-haired, one-eyed figure sat, features still blurred in shadow.
"Oh, wow!" Bill Cipher's shrill voice boomed through the hellish landscape. He sauntered out of his seat, hands placed over his cane. He was still wearing Pa's suit, but a tall, thin top hat now hovered crookedly above his head. "You came back. You're actually that dumb!"
Stan planted himself in front of the demon's throne, boldly meeting that yellow eye. "What can I say?" he said, cracking his knuckles. "I've never been one for good decision-making."