Real talk: Wow, two stories in two days?! Admittedly, this chapter was almost done when I was inspired to write Dynamics, which was a gift to a fellow author and good friend due for surgery tomorrow.
Regrettably, starting with the next chapter we'll actually be going back to slower updates due to work related responsibilities.
So here's the dealio. Remember how I said that I get two questions constantly? "Where's Phoebe?" and "What did the message say?" Well, this chapter will answer one of them. Don't worry, the other is coming up in a few chapters.
Come to think of it... I said this chapter was special, didn't I? Well...
Content Warnings:
One Giant Teaser For Opening Act's Sequel
Basically one long conversation
Definitely a Litmus test for you all
Definite references to another major story coming
Reveals!
Prophecy!
Ambiguity!
A wild Marceline appears?
*click* *click* *click*
...What's that noise?
*click* *click* *click* *click*
Ugh. It's mega annoying.
*click* *click* click* *click* *click*
Whatever that is… I'm gonna break its face.
Marceline groaned, not realizing how much her head hurt until she lifted it. A bolt of pain shot out, through her forehead and down her jaw. She clenched both eyes instinctively, hand pressing against her temple, as if that would ever work to provide any semblance of relief.
*click* *click* *click*
But soon the pain passed. Suspiciously, even, far too quickly; the shooting agony was replaced with a gentle numbness and she found it within herself to open her eyes. Just a peak. Just enough to be terribly, terribly confused. "...Where the flip am I?"
The clicking stopped.
"Well, that depends on what you mean by 'where'. It's all a matter of perspective, really."
Marceline's eyes widened as she felt herself freeze, paralyzed from the sound of a familiar voice come from her side. A familiar voice that dripped with narcissistic venom, though she had never heard it sound so infuriatingly serene before.
"If you mean physically, we're on The Morrow, safely in BonBon's arms, on our way back to the Candy Kingdom, where I imagine she'll go overboard helping us recover. Bonnie has a lot of strengths, but she also has a nasty habit of working within the extremes almost exclusively."
With every caution she never afforded herself - because, really, demon powers usually made caution pointless - the vampire sat up and turned to her side, paling at the sight before her.
"If you mean emotionally, well… we're kind of a wreck right now, aren't we?"
It wasn't just the voice. Marceline knew that tie. She knew that amulet. She knew that suit. Mirrors may be a foreign concept to her, but she knew this woman. She stood with every caution the situation afforded. Which was… quite a bit, actually. No. Way. Uh uh.
"But if you mean psychologically… well, we're having a nightmare." The other woman smirked with all of the arrogance and malice Marceline never thought herself capable of possessing. She watched with grotesque fascination as the other woman withdrew her claws - one grey, one a shimmering black - from the keyboard of her computer, rising from her chair. "Although I gotta say… we could do a lot worse, you know?" As the demon - and in her dead heart she knew in her core that she was a demon - before her chuckled at her own joke Marceline took a chance and tore her gaze from her. ...Nightmare? Wha? Though her memory was hazy she definitely remembered her last location being somewhere outside, in Ooo. Her new location certainly seemed to fit the bill for a nightmare, though. After all, it was an almost perfect replica of her father's office.
A long window behind the desk, allowing an easy view of the Nightosphere's perpetual chaos. Unlike the actual window, however, this one was pitch black and impossible to see out of, effectively rendering it non-functional. In the corner, to the diagonal left of the half-demon, was a nondescript file drawer, almost as tall as she was. It lacked any form of labelling or even identification, appeared to be made of steel, and no part of her wanted to know what was in there. The walls, she realized, were missing the portrait's found in her father's actual office, even lacking empty frames. They were completely bare, making the office look far larger than she knew it actually was. Finally, her sight landed on the desk before her. The one with an intimidating looking demon behind it.
In the Nightosphere, the real Nightosphere, her father's desk was simple and utilitarian, having just enough room for the tools necessary to aid in his job of sowing confusion and frustration throughout the Nightosphere, befitting a man who took his work seriously and separated it from what pleasures he took in his Deathless semi-life. This desk, in contrast, was much flashier and more detailed, containing a short lip and hood instead of flat surface, scaled edges along the sides turned inward, and what looked like a tiny replica of the wrought iron gate lined along the back, effectively discouraging anyone from reaching over to invade her space. It was the desk of someone quite full of herself, someone of vanity, someone who regarded everyone around her with contempt.
The top of the desk featured numerous trinkets, not that any of them looked particularly interesting. The largest was, without a doubt, the computer, which was a grey sleek thing, small and boxy with a green holo screen sitting above the contraption, before a long keyboard, both of which were turned away from the vampire. Guess that's where the annoying clicking was coming from. Almost immediately to the demon's left sat a small, round object that looked to be made of a light brown wood, outlined in gold. In contrast to the pristine organization of the rest of the room- No way, I'm never this organized -both the wood and metal of the small thing appeared chipped, the clock's wood cracked and the gold heavily tarnished and stained. It was round on the top and seemed to sit on a rectangular base, though it seemed to be carved from the same piece of wood. Next to the small object was a picture frame. A very familiar picture frame. Specifically, the one that sat in her Nightosphere bedroom, kept on her bed-side table at all times. Something about seeing the frame, an object so personal and sentimental, caused Marceline to bristle, effectively breaking her preoccupation with the infuriating woman before her.
"Who the flip are you."
The demon laughed, a familiar sound now drenched in malice. "Oh, come on. You know who I am. I heard the guys mention me when they told you all about their little adventure into our mindmeats. Gotta admit, I feel so special that they told you about me specifically. It's touching, really."
Marceline growled. Enough. "Okay, that's it. You're annoying, and I'm decapitating you."
The demon raised an eyebrow, pinned eyes raking over the musician. How such a non-gesture could feel so violating was a riddle Marceline would never think to solve. "Seriously? You wake up in my office and you threaten my life? Not cool."
But Marceline wasn't listening, too busy looking for- "Where the fig is my bass?!"
Now the other woman was smirking, clearly self-satisfied. "Oh, do you mean that bass?"
She hooked a talon over her shoulder, to the instrument chained securely against the wall. The vampire almost ran over to it instinctively, unable to shake the feeling of parting her missing, but something about the sight of the chains, so familiar, stopped her. Tarnished, black, chipped, it didn't matter; she would know that metal anywhere. "What the fig?!" She turned, glaring at the demon, whose smug expression never wavered. "Give it back, you tranch!"
"No, you're agitated. I'll give it back when I feel you deserve it. Honestly, though, I'd be more concerned about that." And then she pointed squarely at Marceline. Or, more accurately, around the tarnished shackle surrounding her left arm, her stomach turning when she realized it had been engraved: Notfallplan. Contingency plan?
Marceline recoiled pointlessly, resisting every urge to rip it off. She didn't need to be told why that was a bad idea. What exactly it was made of. With a deep growl she glared at the demon. Uselessly. "Take. It. Off."
The demon scratched her chin, making a grand show of pretending to think about the demand. "Mm… no. Wouldn't be a good nightmare then, now would it? It's made of exactly what you think it's made of, and for the record… I can set it off at any time. Like a bomb!," she chirped gleefully. "Just in case you misbehave. Ya gotta have a sense of urgency, ya know? A sense of… despair." She chuckled at a joke Marceline didn't understand." Speaking of which…" And then she was sitting once more, leaving Marceline to float haplessly. There was the unmistakable sound of a thick drawer sliding open, the demon leaning down to retrieve its contents before closing it again.
Said contents appeared to be a large hourglass. It was as long as the woman's forearm and appeared to be composed of a dark metal akin to pewter. Whereas most hourglasses Marceline had seen were supported by straight pillars this one was not; its pillars were actually warped, giving the impression that they were actually wrapping around the glass, rather than standing alongside it. The metal was thick, too, and it almost looked like small metal thorns were fused into it, though this metal was copper, rather than pewter. While she couldn't see the base of the hourglass she could catch a glimpse of the top and noted that it featured the same design of the eight arrows pointed in separate directions, a pattern the vampire had seen before but, deep within the haze of a dream, she could not place. Both the top and base were supported by tiny copper feet that looked like tiny claws. Once the drawer was closed the suited woman flipped the hourglass, allowing the white sand to begin dropping to the bottom chamber. Task complete, she finally returned her attention to the floating musician.
"What. The. Nuts."
The demon sighed. "Regrettably, we only have so much time together, and you took like a million years to wake up. I'm behind schedule now. I hate that. So," she stood. "Shall we get started?"
Marceline stared, flabberghasted. It was only when the demon left the back of her desk that her eye caught a glimpse of her chair. Or, more accurately, the throne made of the same dark material as her father's desk, decorated with a metallic crimson bat, wings spread to provide the illusion that it was claiming the furniture. Yes, Marceline knew that chair well. After all, she was the one who imagined it. Another growl emerged from the back of her throat as she watched the other woman approach the filing cabinet, undeterred by her other self's enmity. "...So I'm having a nightmare. What the duck am I doing in dad's office?"
The demon sighed audibly once more, tone changing as if she were addressing a small child. "First of all, it's my office. Mine. See?" She tapped the amulet at the base of her throat, almost amused at the sight of Marceline paling further at the sight of it. Her hand shot up reflexively, only to find that while her scar still made her throat its happy home the perpetually burning sensation was conspicuously absent. "That aside, we're here because I'm going to give you a choice. Freedom of choice is a very important facet of life, and one we've always prioritized. Never let us decide otherwise."
...Wait. "Woah, hold up. You keep saying 'we'." There was a question hidden in there, but the vampire had no idea how to pose it. But relief was not going to come from her counterpart, who only looked on expectantly, clearly amused. "I thought the dweebs put me back together. You can't be here."
The demon chuckled. "Oh, I'm just here as a favor. Though you're correct, the Dork Patrol did kind of smelt us back together. With that said… they told you who I was but not what I am. Probably for the best, but the key point is that I'm the oldest part of our psyche, the most developed, and the most extant from the whole. I'm also the perfect part of us to break the news to you."
...What you are? Okay, not important right now, Marceline. Focus. What's important is-
"This filing cabinet." The demon stopped before it, resting her black claw graciously upon it as if it were an old friend. Such a simple, tan, non-descript looking object, out of place in an office so tastefully decorated. "Do you know what's in here?"
"...Files?"
Pinned eyes rolled. "Oh look, we're not a complete idiot. Yes, Marceline. Files. Specifically, files on every person we've ever met. We've lived a long time, seen and heard and learned so much about… well, everyone I suppose. This is the part of our brain we store that information." She patted it almost affectionately. "The Dork Patrol saw this as well, and when they did I gave them the option of seeing anyone's file they wished. But only one, and now I'm going to give you the same choice. Fair's fair, after all." A black claw drew across the top of the furniture and the bottom drawer immediately popped open. Only two files were present, and the grey claw carefully retrieved them. Marceline watched carefully as the two manilla envelopes were held, one per claw, blinking in confusion when she saw no names listed, only one word each.
"I hold in my claws a choice for you. You can choose Truth, or you can choose Freedom. It's a choice we've made every day. Do we go to that meeting with daddy about the Nightosphere's inheritance laws, or do we go kick something's butt with Finn and Jake? Do we talk to Bonnie about her borderline abusive behavior, or do we fail to upset the status quo? Do we go learn what it means to be who we are and what it means to be a demon, or do we run from responsibility for as long as we possibly can? The difference between truth and freedom has always been a core part of us. And now it's time for you to decide once more."
The vampire eyed the demon carefully, glancing from one folder to the other and back again but, nope, both objects were identical, save for their scrawled labels. ...Okay, none of this makes sense. I'm in dad's office… but it's mine? This tranch is… ugh, I don't even wanna think it. I'mma break her face. Alright, dillweed. Let's see what you're up to. "Alright, I'll bite. What happens if I pick one? You're seriously gonna make me choose a thing when I don't know what the a thing is?"
Another eyeroll. "Of course not, don't be dumb. If you choose Truth," she held it up for emphasis, "this nightmare continues unhindered and you learn some… well, shall we say, rather important things about ourself that you, the conscious you, would otherwise never know. Information that could very well save the life of someone or someones we love. Of course, nothing is free, and it's gonna hurt. I'm telling you now, you're not gonna like it," she sang. Marceline felt her eye twitch at the implied threat. "If you choose Freedom," now the first envelope was lowered, the second taking itself place aloft, "this nightmare ends right now. You don't go through the… unpleasantness that's been designed just for you, you just wake up. I warn you, though, we are currently several kilometers in the air, and on the back of The Morrow, so…" she trailed off tauntingly.
Marceline's hand clenched, threatening to become a claw itself, fangs almost extending in preparation for a fight. Every instinct in her told her that was a Really Bad Idea. The guys said she tried to gank another part of me… but is she the same part of me that did that? She said this is a nightmare. Does she even exist? Is she something different? Her headache returned the moment a thought came to her, and surely those two were occuring at the same time was entirely coincidental. "You said I'd be saving someone's life. Whose?"
"Pretty sure it'll become self-evident once you go through the nightmare," the demon smirked. Marceline could count the number of people she cared about on two hands, but that didn't make the existential threat any less significant and she knew it. Both of her knew it, that much was obvious. As she weighed her options, fang piercing her lower lip in anxiousness, the other woman shrugged. "The best way to think about it is that every choice for something is also a choice against something else."
The implication made the vampire shudder, and by the look in pinned garnet eyes the sight was comical, the reaction intended. "...So you're telling me that if I choose Freedom… I let people I care about die?" When the demon neither confirmed nor denied the allegation, only providing an innocent smile Marceline snarled, lunging-
"WHAT THE FLIP?!"
Only to feel a searing pain through her left arm, the epicenter of which was the shackle. The demon laughed softly, delighted by the sight before her. "I warned you to behave. Besides, it would be a waste of both of our time to fight. You can't kill me, Marceline. We couldn't even kill me. You wouldn't be you without me." The searing pain was spreading now, the fires of a thousand Sky Balls of Death running down her fingertips and up her shoulder. "Now pick. Pick and the pain stops."
There was only one choice. She wanted to argue, wanted to fight, wanted to do something, but suspected, no, knew, it was futile. How she knew she couldn't say, but she was plagued by a dizzying sense of deja vu and, well, her gut had never steered her wrong before. Deep in her dead heart, she knew there was only one choice, and as much as she hated playing mind games, how another was dictating her fate once more, how much she hated being a pawn or a tool or anything else of the kind, there was only one choice. "Truth, you tran-" And just like that the pain stopped, not even a residual ache remaining. Just as she meant to yell at the demon, scream at her, curse her, anything no matter how small or significant or pointless, she watched as the folder labelled 'Freedom' combusted into a concentrated white inferno.
Through it all the demon never broke eye contact.
"Excellent choice." Marceline stared expectantly. The demon stared expectantly back.
"...So, you gonna hand me the folder?"
She tapped her chin. "Mm… no."
"You just said-"
"Oh, the folder is just a prop. See?" Five talons raked across the item, shredding it into confetti, as if the vampire's torture was a cause for celebration. "No, I'm going to show you your Truth. It'll be funnier that way." Snickering at a joke Marceline's didn't understand the demon turned to the front of her office, striding towards the door. "Come. I'd hate for you to get only half of the story before our time together is up and I have to go back to sitting in our subconscious."
Marceline meant to argue with that, really she did, but the moment the command was issued she found herself moving forward until she was at the demon's side, floating in time with her steps. It was humiliating; the lack of control over her own body, the feeling of helplessness as she was scorched by one of her only weaknesses, having her fate dictated by not only a different person but by a person who claimed to be part of her. But the half-demon had a new preoccupation, and such trivialities paled before it. "I wanna know who I'd be saving."
A smirk. An infuriating, callous smirk. It was odd to see it decorating her own face and vowed to never let it happen in the real Ooo. As a rule, Marceline liked to be intimidating. This wasn't intimidating. It was cruel. "I never said I'd tell you. You just assumed I would."
The vampire snarled, ready to shape-shift into… well, she didn't know what. Just something big with sharp teeth and razor claws and now her shape-shifting was being interrupted by a burning spike through her arm. "Calm down. I forgot how easy to bait we are." A dark chuckle. "I'm not gonna tell you, but by the time the nightmare is done you'll figure it out."
The two women stared at one another, appraising each other silently, each issuing a challenge, a subtle defiance of the other as they walked down a hallway that was all-too familiar to the vampire. Just like the Citadel proper the hallway was obnoxiously long, but unlike the Citadel proper there were no paintings decorating its walls. Instead there were only eight bronze plaques, four to a side, but they were all blank, devoid of design or text. The two made their way making no sound, no longer even acknowledging one another, until they reached the second doorway leading to the outside world. It was Marceline who broke the stalemate. "...I hate you."
"I get that a lot," came the tranquil reply. "Now, if you don't mind, I have a schedule to keep." Not caring whether or not Marceline did indeed mind the demon pushed open the heavy door, revealing a world exactly like and as the queen had left it. Ooo, filled with lush green life, small mushroom and cube and puff people playing happily, Sky Ball of Death bright and-
Wait.
Instinctively Marceline recoiled, hissing at the Sky Ball of Death futilely. That gave the demon pause and she stopped, turning to her other self, eyebrow raised. The patronizing tone had returned, as if her voice considered it a second home. "It won't hurt you. Not here at least. In the real world we're on our own."
Marceline found her less than trustworthy. What with the shackle of silver and taking her bass and such. "...Right."
The demon sighed, shaking her head pitifully. "What would be the point of me bringing you outside only for you to burn to True Death? As I said before, I have things to show you, and I can't do that if you hide in the shadows. I know it's difficult, but do try to be logical for once in our Unlife."
That made sense. Too much sense. Marceline narrowed her eyes at her. "Uh uh. You're messing with me."
Now both eyebrows rose. "Me? I don't mess with people. That's my least favorite thing to do." No one and nothing in that or any world had ever sounded as insincere as the demon did in that exact moment.
The musician looked to the sky, staring at that which was her mortal enemy. Or immortal enemy, as the case were. With every caution afforded her she stuck her hand out of the shadow of the doorway, letting the light hit it. The moment she felt its rays on her skin she withdrew, but to her surprise she was unburnt. ...Woah. Okay, that's new. Returning her eyes to the Sky Ball of Death she took a step forward, ready to retreat… only to find that, like her hand, she herself was also un-True Dead. It was surreal, floating in the Sky Ball of Death's rays without bursting into ash. Sure, it was obviously a dream, but it was something she had never thought she would ever experience again. Not since her brief stint as a mere mortal, and not since her Turning a thousand years prior. Yeah, it's fake… but it's…. Nice? Not really nightmare-y. But there was a pang there, in wherever her heart was, not because the Sky Ball of Death and her ability to genuinely enjoy it was fake, but because- No. Stop it.
"It was such a simple joy, and we never told her." Marceline snapped her head from the sky to the demon, almost forgetting she was there. "Eating mortal food was a treat, but the real gift was being able to be in the sun with her, to just enjoy a beautiful day and one another's company. No fear of staying up too late and burning to True Death, no guilt from encouraging her to stay up too late and thus negatively affecting her royal duties. Her company, unhindered, was what we enjoyed most. We never told her that. Do we ever plan to?" The question sounded almost sincere. Almost. Now the vampire turned away, flushing from the know-it-all tone in what was effectively her own voice that was so whimsical it was obviously taunting. "No?" There was a pause, but Marceline shook her head, not looking at her other self. "Hm…" The demon tapped her chin thoughtfully… then chortled. "Ah. I forgot. We're still mad at her, aren't we?"
Marceline glared at her. "Dude, don't tell me you dragged me all the way out here for some 'forgive Bonnie' bunk."
The suited woman snickered. "Believe it or not, not everything is about BonBon." The queen stared at her, picking apart the layers of sarcasm and oh boy, there were a lot of them. "We have bigger concerns than our mate and how we're not forgiving her yet." With no further elucidation the demon returned to her path, silently commanding Marceline to follow.
If floating in the Sky Ball of Death's rays was surreal travelling through Ooo, unhindered by the need for special clothing, was doubly so. As the two travelled through the Grasslands in relative quiet a village of bipedal reptilian children with rainbow scales and sharp claws and teeth played catch with a small, puffy thing that Marceline belatedly realized was sapient and not enjoying the game in the slightest. Hey, that looks like fun. She wasn't able to watch for long, though, pulled along by some unseen force. "Dude, where are we going?"
"Would you remember it if I told you?" She grinned, all needle-sharp fangs and malice, as if she had said something very funny, a joke Marceline was too slow to get.
"Look, dude, if you're me you know we've lived in Ooo for like a billion years. Of course I'd remember it-" And then she stopped, eyes widening as she understood what indeed was so funny. "...I remember," she whispered. She whipped her head around, scanning to the horizon. "...I remember, and it doesn't hurt. All of this. I remember..."
"Enjoy it for now, because we won't be able to stay like this when we wake up, I'm afraid."
The vampire gaped, eyes settling on the demon once more. "...Why doesn't it hurt?"
She shrugged. "Dream logic, guy. A lot of us is messed up from the amulet, but there are still pieces of us that remember Ooo the way it really is."
Marceline chewed her lip, pondering that claim. As much as she hated the other woman it was hard to call her a liar. Well, about this at least. She's… not wrong. When the guys brought me back to Ooo not everything hurt to look at. It was kinda wonky… but didn't hurt. The surrealism was becoming a haze and her head shook to clear her mind. Somehow, she doubted the demon was taking her on a leisurely stroll. If her friends were to be believed this was the same woman - or, at least, a shade of her - who tried to gank the only part of her that could restore her as one whole being. Focus, Marceline. She's up to something. Marceline turned back to her counterpart, only to find herself being watched very intently. Guess the best way to be defense is to be offensive. "This doesn't seem very nightmare-like," she stated bluntly.
Sadly, the demon didn't rise to the challenge, merely shrugging her indifference. "Not this part, no. Ooo may have its conflicts, but they tend to be few and far between. True threats don't present themselves often." There was a malicious twinkle in her eye. "Like the Lich."
Marceline snorted. "Dude, Finn's taken care of the Lich. Now he's Sweet Pea. Like… the least threatening thing ever. I know donut bushes that are scarier."
The demon's grin reminded Marceline of a shark she once met. "Not what BonBon's Cosmic Owl dream said."
The vampire seethed. She was so sick of that feathered idiot. "Just 'cause the Cosmic Weenie said the Lich is comin' back doesn't mean he is. The bird likes to be all symbolic and junk. It could literally mean anything." Literally? Figuratively? ...Both? Is there a word for that when it's both? Ugh, where's Bonnie when- no. Wait. I don't need her. Nice try, brain.
The demon nodded, undeterred. "True, the Cosmic Owl presents visions that are often symbolic, but even we aren't foolish enough to ignore one of his dreams entirely. Even if we are too proud to admit that we liked some of its more, shall we say… enticing aspects?"
Marceline stopped, shooting her a glare. "So this is about Bonnie!"
The suited woman laughed softly but didn't break her stride, and soon Marceline found herself pulled along by some invisible and intangible leash. "Dude, you've gotta learn to stop letting us get baited. That's twice now. It's gonna get us killed one day. Besides, you're missing the point. You can't ignore the vision he gave her just because you dislike it and find it unfavorable."
The vampire fell silent, pondering the weight of those words, conflicted beyond what could ever be healthy. It wasn't the first time such advice had been offered to her in her long life, and she suddenly and deeply missed Simon and his wisdom. As she mulled the very idea of listening to the heart of Bonnibel's dream-message she watched the Ooo presented to her, reaching down to run her calloused fingers over the soft, lush grass, just enjoying the texture and feel of something that was alive and definitely not whatever it was her time in the mindscape was remembering. In fact, she realized, in whatever quasi-nightmare she found herself in now the mindscape's horror-Ooo was becoming a faint memory. After centuries of Unlife she knew when something was too good to be true when she saw it. "Look, just get it over with. Show me what you wanna freak me out with."
That, finally, caused the demon to stop. She turned to her, fully now, and appraised the vampire, raking over her once more with pinned garnet eyes as if searching for something. Evidently, she either found it and liked it or didn't find it and didn't care, instead reaching up with her grey claw, talons bared. Her tranquil tone never wavered. "This is Ooo, in the present. The sun shines, denizens continue to be rescued by Finn and Jake, candy citizens continue to be both protected and experimented on by a most gracious and beautiful monarch, Simon is still what passes for Simon, and Phoebe kisses newborns or whatever it is she does as a princess." At once the claw began to claw and, were she not floating, Marceline would have jumped at the sudden scenery change. It warped and jutted like the fractals that decorated her bedroom windows, causing the landscape to reflect upon itself, replacing the bright blue sky with the lush green grass, inverting citizens and their positions, warping even the sun's rays.
And then the claw became a fist, the fractals shattered like glass, and the illusion fell away.
Wasteland. That was the only word Marceline had to describe what she was seeing. Where there was once lush green grass there was now only dry, grey dirt that looked almost like clay; no sooner had she cupped it that it turned to dust and blew away on a harsh wind she could not feel. The great trees that were the forest she loved were nothing but husks, with not even insects making use of them as homes. Where there were once playful citizens going about their days there were now only corpses, skeletons in various stages of decomposition. She even thought she saw a green mint wrapper and felt her stomach twist at the thought of one of Bonnie's- ...BONNIE! Immediately the panic set in and, eyes wide and slitted, Marceline made every attempt to go find her lover, to make sure whatever all this chaos was hadn't hurt her, because she may be furious with the younger woman but her squishy heartgut emotions and love for her possibly-literal other half overruled the rage, only to find herself paralyzed. All she could do was helplessly gaze upon the collapsed ruins that were once beautiful homes and buildings, smell the stench of rust and blood and smoke and rot, watch the fire consume what looked like an entire village, hear the screams of the trapped and mutilated as they begged for help. It was nightmarish.
At once the screaming ceased, dying in choking sobs. And then, above all, was the silence. It started then, as it always did, in her hands, which began to tremble, her eyes blurring. Just as she began to feel her vision fade into the beginning of a panic attack an unfamiliar burning ate into her left arm and she was finally free to move, to look down at the shackle that was hurting her, yes, but that had also broken the episode before it began.
"There. I'm afraid we still have too much to do. That bracer will remain active. Use the pain to ground yourself in reality. Well, not reality reality. Nightmare reality." Through it all the demon never stopped looking oh-so-pleased with herself.
...She's enjoying this! Dude, that's sick even by my standards. The question hung heavy, but as much as Marceline didn't want to give the suited woman the satisfaction of asking it she had to know. "...What did this?"
"You do."
Amazing how much destruction one can inflict with just two little words. Marceline stared at the demon, disbelieving, convinced she had misheard, or at least misunderstood, especially as it was framed in the present or possibly future, not the past. As she processed the assertion she stared, dumbstruck, because while she knew she would never inflict such raw destruction she also knew she was certainly capable. Her claim wasn't outside the realm of possibility, even if it was outlandish. She hoped. But it was still a possibility, and one not easy to dismiss outright. After all, she always had it in her to be a monst-
"This is Ooo in the near future. Well, 'near' being a relative term. Time is sort of weird for us, huh? The point is that in the near future you end the world."
And now a different kind of silence hung in the air, because the woman before her, the woman who both looked like and was her, had just told her that she could - had - would - end the world. Perhaps anyone else upon hearing such a claim would have laughed at the absurdity of the notion, shrugged off something that sounded so impossible; after all, the End of the World is Kind of a Big Deal, certainly beyond the capability of any one mere individual. But Marceline Abadeer wasn't 'anyone else', she was an unnatural being in so many ways, but the way than ran through her mind immediately was of her birthright, of who her father was, of what the Cosmic Owl had predicted when she was-
"No. Uh uh. Not possible."
The demon raised an eyebrow. "What isn't possible?"
"There's no way I end the world. That prophecy is wrong! Wrong then, wrong now, you buttnugget! The humans already ended the world! I do a lot of messed up junk, but this? What the butts?!"
The other woman sighed, once again adopting the same tone one would for a small, simple child. "Manners. We're having a civil conversation. Your language is uncalled for." She didn't bother to wait until Marceline calmed down. "Besides, there are four problems with your argument. One," she held up a black talon, "you may not believe in prophecy, but prophecy believes in you. Two," a second talon, "the prophecy never said that we would end the human world, it merely implied it. Three." This time when she held up a talon she unclenched her fist, restoring the illusion of a happy and very alive Ooo. "I see a perfectly good world for us to end right here. And four," when she held up the fourth talon the grey fist closed once more, bringing the ruination with it, "whether you like it or not prophecy has a way of becoming fulfilled. It has a purpose, as do we."
The demon fixed Marceline with a hard stare, lowering the black claw. Though the calm demeanor never shifted her voice became flatter, devoid of emotion. "Like it or not, the Cosmic Owl prophesied that daddy's child would end the world, but we were still a child when the bombs fell. The logical assumption would be that the humans fulfilled the prophecy for us. But his prophecy wasn't meant for the humans. It was meant for a world they couldn't possibly imagine because they would never live long enough to see it. And you?" She gestured to the ruination surrounding the pair. "This is a gift you cannot understand. Not yet."
If Marceline had a living heart it would have stopped. A GIFT?! She had watched the other woman, listened both blankly and intently as she explained her four very good reasons for the world she was seeing now, the chaos and disorder surrounding her. In spite of herself she tried to imagine how Bonnibel would respond to such logic, what she would say to prove it wrong. Were this a different situation the vampire would scold herself for running back, even mentally and in a nightmare noless, to the woman she was still Super Mad At… but she had always called the young scientist a brainlord for a reason, and she was really really good at this kind of stuff. What would she do? An idea. "Why would I end the world?" She spoke through gritted teeth, sickened by the very idea of the question.
Bafflingly, that seemed to amuse the demon. "Well now, that's a matter of perspective. It's actually due to a long and unfortunate chain of events that's already in motion."
Though the silver burned even more and prevented her from shifting into a more combative form she snarled, eyes still slitted. If it killed her she was going to rip this demon's throat out. "So I cause all this-"
The black claw was held up. "I'll stop you right there, at the word 'cause'. This is a very important concept, so pay attention." Once she was sure the other woman was going to control herself the demon lowered her claw. "One of the things we've always done very well is recognize patterns.. We've lived for so long that we're quite adept at recognizing when something is going to happen over and over again. However, understandably, it becomes difficult to see when we are entrenched in it ourselves. So allow me to ask you this: what caused the end of the humans?"
Marceline waited for the jest that never came. "...The bombs. They fell and wiped everyone out except for like… twenty humans."
She laughed softly. "So… the bombs caused the human-apocalypse."
"Yeah, you're laughing like that's funny."
"Oh, I'm sorry. It must sound like that because I am. The bombs didn't cause the apocalypse, the humans who launched them did. When the vampires were annihilated it wasn't the stake that killed them, it was us. That time the Lich got his butt kicked? It wasn't Finn's sword that kicked his butt, it was Finn. Are you noticing a pattern?"
She did, and did not at all like the implication. "...Are you calling me a weapon?," she hissed.
"We've been called one our entire life, yes. So, I am. BonBon is a genius, but even she can be wrong on occasion. She has asserted we are not a monster, but that's just wishful thinking, sad to say. We cause the end of the world by being the weapon…" She trailed off encouragingly.
"...But we don't set ourselves off." It was eerie, really, how she had heard this exact warning before. She wondered then if Phoebe had been predicting this situation, or had just been giving her an oddly apropos warning in general.
But… fire doesn't always know when it's being directed for detrimental purposes. It just goes where it's told until it's unleashed, then it's on its own. Usually to die, or to hurt everything around it. It doesn't mean to… but that's the very nature of fire. So I guess what I'm asking is… who's directing your fire?
"Oh good. For a moment there I was afraid I would have to break out the crayons for you."
Marceline bared her fangs but it was an empty gesture, one of frustration coupled with an existential crisis. She struggled to find something to say, some inarguable rebuttal. Something else came to mind instead. Because if this creature before her seemed tasked with providing profound truths there was one thing she needed to know. "...Finn said that when they were in our mind you gave Jake a message to give someone. Was that it?" A cautious, loaded question.
The demon snickered. "It's not what you think."
Marceline waited a beat for the other woman to elaborate. "...Ya wanna tell me the deets there?"
The suited demon seemed to ponder this deeply, as if it were a great debate worthy of all of her focus and attention. Finally she smirked. "Are you saying… you don't remember?"
The vampire lunged instinctively with a roar, only to have it fizzle into a hiss when the burning in her left arm became searing pain, matching her rage's intensity. She panted her frustration, eyes dilating once the burning subsided into a dull singe. "You flippin' know I don't remember squat."
The demon laughed, "Oh, I know. I just thought it'd be funny. And it was." The humor returned to her voice, which remained calm and controlled, never wavering. "While you'll remember in time regardless I'll remind you now if you deliver a second message for me."
"Why the fig-"
"Nothing is free, Marceline, not even free will." She lifted her claw and fist in mock defense. "Just tell Jake he's a good boy, and that I believe in reciprocation."
...Too simple. Way too easy. Definitely a trap. Obviously a mondo bad idea. Don't do it, Marceline. "...Fine. Deal." ...Seriously? Really?
The demon sighed in mock respite. "Oh, that's a relief. Now I can sleep easy at night. Or day. Or whatevs." When Marceline continued to stare expectantly she smirked and shook her head. "The message was a warning, meant for Phoebe."
That was unexpected, and Marceline blinked automatically from the sheer force of her confusion. "Pheebs?"
A curt nod. "Yes. It was a warning that a very specific day is coming. On this very specific day we will betray Bonnie. And on this very specific day that we betray Bonnie it will be Phoebe's decision as to whose heart weighs heavier and her decision alone as to whose cause is more just. Her decision will have profound ramifications, but it is still her's alone."
There were so many things wrong with that message that Marceline scarcely knew where to begin. She did so by grasping at straws. "Uh uh. No way. Never gonna happen."
The demon shrugged. "Sorry, but-"
"First of all, we'd never betray Bonnie. That's kind of her deal. Betraying us."
The woman levelled a stare at her. "Manners. I was speaking. If you interrupt me again I will do something you will not like." Something deep within the vampire seemed to warn her that such a threat held serious merit, and she fell silent. "Good. As I was saying, we do, and you'll just have to accept that." She smirked. "I mean… I do, which obvs means that at least some part of us does."
Marceline shook her head, feeling herself bristle, tense against her self-restraint. But something else nagged at her, and before she tore this woman in half she was going to sate it. "Wait, you said there's a specific day it happens, right?"
"Correct."
"Yeah, I'm not buyin' it. There's no way you can know that. I'm not a fortune-teller."
The demon tilted her head. "Yeah, but… aren't we?" The question was entirely rhetorical, and Marceline didn't dignify it as anything but. "Fortune telling… predicting the future… we do that all the time. Like I said before, one of our strengths is pattern recognition, and while it's more difficult to see the pattern when you're entrenched within it it's still entirely possible. Since, you know… we're doing it, even if you don't realize it."
"We've never-"
"Betrayed her before? That's a lie and we all know it." She sneered as Marceline flushed deeply.
Now Marceline hands were claws, the searing pain forgotten. "That was like a million years ago! She forgave us!"
"And yet here we stand with her betrayal on our shoulders, unable or, more accurately, simply unwilling to forgive her. Hypocritical, really. When you think about it though, it comes down to this: when roles are reversed, when duties are switched, opinions and motives often go with them. Remember that."
Now Marceline did lunge, claws bared. Whether or not this woman was indeed a part of her was inconsequential; the lecturing was grating, the insinuations wearing on her bit by bit, and as furious as she was with Bonnibel the musician knew, knew that even at her worst she would never betray the woman she loved, the one person she promised to never hurt, the one person to see her, sincerely so, as more than a monster.
Her attack was cut short when the demon's free claw shot out, impaling Marceline through the chest, gripping her heart. It stunned the half-demon, froze her, and she stared at her opponent. For a brief, fleeting moment fear gripped her but then it, too, ebbed away, leaving only righteous fury. The demon, on the other hand, remained as stoic as she always had. Even Marceline's maroon blood had missed her immaculate suit. Evidently, she was practiced in ripping out hearts. "And here we stand, our heart in my hands." Her head cocked to one side. "The part of us that is myself has no heart to speak of. I did, once, but I cut it out because it bothered me. You're angry now not because of what I said but because of what you heard." And then the claw released her, withdrawing in one swift motion. Marceline instinctively looked down but found no damage, none at all, not even ripped clothing. When she looked back up she found the demon watching her in a way that could only be described as predatory. "Accept it or not, but we do betray her. If it's any consolation, we have an objectively good reason for doing so."
She was being baited, led into a trap, and this time Marceline saw it before it caught her. Truth or freedom, huh? Her fingers twitched, every urge demanding to know what could possibly, even in a hypothetical situation, possess her to betray the woman she loved no matter how furious she was with her. She needed to know, both from a practical standpoint and an emotional one, but voicing the question would open a brand new can of worms. If Bon were here she'd say to finish one thing before starting something else. And so, picking 'freedom', Marceline turned away from the tempting question in favor of the path she was already on. "...Okay, yeah. It happened once."
"What did?," the demon asked sweetly.
Marceline's claw twitched. "...We betrayed her. Once. That doesn't mean we'll do it again, and there's no flippin' way you can know otherwise. Like I said, I'm not a fortune-teller."
"And, as I said, we are. In a way. We recognize patterns, and from the moment Bonnibel told the rest of the Dork Patrol about her Cosmic Owl dream I knew that there could ultimately be only one conclusion, unless it was redirected. So I sent a message to the one person who could redirect it. What Phoebe does with that gift is up to her. Freedom of choice is super important."
"...You haven't actually said what the conclusion is."
The demon shook her head. "I'm afraid I can't."
"Can't, or won't?!"
The demon snickered. "Either? As I've said, I'm part of you, which means part of us already knows what's about to happen. I'm not giving you any new info, I'm just bringing what you already know to the surface. I had expected us to remember on our own by now, but I admit that I hadn't anticipated our reintroduction to Ooo to be so mentally and emotionally crippling. We're running out of time to reacclimate safely, so I'm just giving us a little push."
Marceline was shaking with repressed anger now, eager for something to destroy to channel it, but there was nothing left in their shattered world to break. "Can you stop being cryptic for, like, three seconds?!"
She nodded softly. "Yes, but I won't."
The vampire meant to lunge again, but something deep within her held her back, whispered from the back of her mind that not only was it pointless it was outright detrimental, that somewhere a mental hourglass was counting down the moments until the dream ended and she still had so much to know. For now the musician would swallow her pride. It would be ugly when she coughed it up again. Besides, one Very Important Question still needed to be asked.
"Why Phoebe?"
The demon's look of amusement was insulting. "What do you mean?"
"Why not Finn or Jake? Wouldn't that make more sense? They're used to this kind of buzz." Ugh, you're not even gonna answer that are-
"Ah, I see. Because Finn and Jake have their own parts to play." Now her predatory stare moved, surveying the wasteland surrounding them. Even if it was an illusion it was eerie. "If we let either of them make the choice they'll abstain, and then there will a fate even worse than this. They don't want to get in the way. Phoebe, however, has the gift of clarity, something that escapes even us. Well, not me. But the rest of us. Ripping my heart out gave me lots of clarity, and I needed someone else equally unburdened."
It hit her then. Hard. "...Truth or freedom. You're making her pick."
"Oh, we can be taught! Well done, and I mean that sincerely."
"You don't sound very sincere."
A shrug. "No? I suppose not. Side effect of what I am."
Marceline shook her head, not bothering to his her disgust. "I don't even wanna know what you are."
"No?"
"Uh uh. You said you're part of me, right? So it doesn't matter. You'll just go back with the rest of me when the nightmare ends."
That gave the demon pause, and this time when she raked her gaze over her other self it felt less invasive, and more curious. "Interesting. I suppose our time with a shattered mind made us grow up a bit after all."
"I think you're a wad, though."
"I get that a lot," she repeated. The demon turned. As she resumed their journey to wherever it was they were going she unclenched her hand, destroying the wasteland and returning Ooo to its rightful state. This time Marceline did not feel the invisible leash pulling her forward. Instead she did so willingly, traversing the landscape with her other self in silence that was almost comfortable. Regrettably, 'silence' and 'comfortable' never lasted together long for Marceline, and though she had to admit that the slight burning from the silver shackle was helping to stave off the panic attack it couldn't hold out on its own forever.
"So… where are we going?"
The demon watched her from the corner of her eye. "There's one last thing I want you to see before our time together comes to an end and I'm required to rejoin the rest of us. Happily, we're back on schedule. I would hate for you to not learn this last lesson." There were so many sarcastic things Marceline had at the ready as replies, but she let them all die on her tongue because the suited demon sounded bizarrely sincere. It didn't inspire trust, but it did give the half-demon enough pause to follow her willingly, quietly watching the scenery change. Just as she was about to prod the other woman once more she stopped, Marceline stopping with her. "You now know that the prophecy that we will end the world hasn't changed. You know that, at its core, every decision for one thing is a decision against something else and that, ultimately, it comes down to a matter of truth versus freedom. You know that, whether we like it or not, we will betray Bonnie, though we will have a very good reason to, and it will be up to Phoebe to sort that out. But there is one thing left for you to understand."
Now it was her black claw that clenched and the very air around them shattered once more. Marceline tensed, ready for the return of the desolate landscape, the self-proclaimed evidence of her bringing forth the apocalypse. But this new world wasn't desolate. In fact, it was horribly familiar, in every sense of the word.
"Woah. We're back in dad's office?"
Indeed, the pair had returned exactly where they had left off. Marceline scanned the room, scrutinizing every detail, every single aspect, searching for anything that had changed since they had departed. Just as she was about to call the demon out, demand she explain herself and what the flip just happened, the suited woman strolled back to her filing cabinet, drawing a claw across it once more. It was only when two familiar looking folders were back in her claws that she seemed to remember her whole self's presence. "My office. I thought I was quite clear on that."
"Yeah, you keep sayin' that, but-"
"It's my office. Well, our office. Not now, but in the future. Some fates are simply unavoidable." Her tone left no room for argument, nor even a discussion. It Simply Was, and it was also simply infuriating. Marceline knew she didn't need to voice her objection; if this thing was truly part of her it must know she would never, under any circumstance, take over the Nightosphere. But knowing didn't stop her temper. It never did.
"Look tranch. I don't know how to be clearer about this, but there's no way I'm ever taking daddy's amulet, especially after what the plop just happened!"
The demon raised an eyebrow, thoroughly amused by what was essentially her own temper tantrum. "I thought we all mutually agreed that the best place for our kind is the Nightosphere. You know, what with the wanton violence and all. I couldn't get a good look at our house or the Grasslands through the haze of our psychological breakdown, but I do think it's safe to say we don't have a house anymore, and it's possible Ooo doesn't have a Grasslands anymore either." The black claw shook and the room surrounding the two women stabilized. No, not a room, just a tastefully decorated cage. "We are not a monster because of what we can do we are a monster because we cannot control it. We are, for all intents and purposes, a weapon, fully capable of healing any injury, taking any form, and possessing enough fire power to level the world. Which, I may emphasize, happens no matter what we do."
Marceline tensed, prepared to strike. This time the searing pain in her arm did nothing to dull her temper. "So I belong in the Nightosphere because of what I am, but it won't protect Ooo anyway?! That doesn't even make sense!"
The demon shook her head almost sadly. "It will not protect Ooo from the apocalypse. But… have you considered that we may have killed someone during our latest psychotic breakdown?"
Marceline froze. In all honesty, she hadn't even considered that possibility, hadn't had time to even think of it. She barely recalled the panic attack at all, actually, just a haze of agony and despair. She knew Bonnibel had mentioned something about the Grasslands- or… did I even ask? -but any answer she was given, if she even was given an answer, left her fuzzy on the deets. "...Did we?"
The other woman shrugged her indifference. "Who knows? It's possible. Like I said before, I'm you. I can't give you new info, I can just remind you of what you forgot. Or repressed. But you can't remember, can you?" Her laugh was dark and it was a wonder she didn't choke on its enmity. "The Dork Patrol knows the worst of you now. Soon will everybody else. We've done an admirable job of hiding for this long, but it's inevitable for the truth to come out. And what then? The denizens of Ooo hunted us down just for thinking we ate their cows. Had we been a vampire at the time they would have killed us. What do you think will happen after word spreads that a giant bat reigned death from the sky over the Grasslands?"
Both women stared at one another, both a monarch in their own rights, but that seemed to be where the similarities ended. Marceline turned that argument over in her mind, trying to tear it apart. It was such an odd sensation, really, because it was the same thing she had been telling herself ever since she first felt the burning scar at the base of her throat. It was then that Marceline Abadeer realized two things simultaneously. One, the demon was right, or rather, she had been right all along. But, more importantly, she realized that, deep down where Denial and Shame live within her soul she had wanted to be proven wrong.
Her confliction, her slow acceptance, was obvious to the demon, whose voice dropped into a flat affect once more. "They'll come after us once more, that much is certain. BonBon is undoubtedly already looking for a way to contain this catastrophe, and in doing so she'll make a target of herself. Many of Ooo's citizens may be idjits, but not all. Finn and Jake are friends, true, but they're also righteous hero-types. This is a bit of a conflict of interest. I wonder which way they'll lean?" Marceline winced at the memory of Jake fully being willing to turn her over to The Proper Authorities when he even suspected her of bovine-homicide. "Phoebe is a close friend, but she's also a princess that has a duty to her kingdom. A kingdom that, historically, has had a tumultuous relationship with the Candy Kingdom. How far can her friendship extend when politics come into play?" No longer looking at the demon Marceline only stared at the black void that should be her father's window. "So no, us returning to the Nightosphere will not prevent Ooo's apocalypse, but it will prevent… well, everything else. And so we ultimately have a choice to make. Do we protect that which we care about and return to where we belong, or do we continue to play pretend and remain on the surface, placing them at risk?"
Marceline growled, but it was one of futility and frustration. Frustration with what she wasn't quite sure, but frustration nonetheless, because as much as she hated it and as much as she hated this woman she sounded so right. Nothing she was being told was new information. Not really. They were all thoughts and ideas and rationalizations she had already experienced; it was just so new hearing them voiced aloud, and in her own voice noless. I've had a panic attack before… but back then it was just Bon's castle. No one got hurt. "Yeah, but… I don't know if I actually ganked anyone."
The demon nodded thoughtfully. "True, but for the sake of argument let's say we didn't kill anyone, we just wrecked their stuff. Do you really think this is the last time we'll do this? We love our dark streak. The fact is, however, that we cannot maintain our balancing act forever. Not anymore, and so we must make the decision. Truth and know what will really become of Ooo if we stay, or take the freedom afforded by our birthright and return to the Nightosphere, where we no longer need to pretend to be anything other than what we are."
The vampire squinted at the glass window in concentration, rotating the argument in her mind. "But if the world is gonna end either way does it actually matter which option I pick?"
"Every decision in life matters because every decision has a consequence you cannot comprehend. It's easy for us to forget that time matters, because we are immortal. Timeless. But while time matters so little to us it rules those we care about, spurring them into action or stopping their advance. We are liberated from the rules that govern the laws of mortals and nature."
"Yeah, but… so's Bon." She meant it as a quiet mutter, but apparently the demon heard it all the same, because the response was a chuckle.
"Bonnie holds such contempt for natural law that she enjoys subverting it. She bends the laws of physics to their breaking point, wields intelligence like a weapon, and is, in her own right, scary beyond measure. She quite enjoys her status as the smartest woman alive, dead, or in-between, and she may be fully aware that she is the most gifted scientist to ever grace Ooo. She's also a fabulous teacher, even if she doesn't know it." She snickered then at some joke only she seemed to understand. Marceline meant to ask her about that, but the chime stopped her. Four rings, echoing from around them. She growled at the sudden noise instinctively, but the demon's only response was to tilt her head, listening intently. Once the noise ceased she nodded thoughtfully.
"What the flip-"
"I'm afraid our time together is over. I hope this nightmare has been educational for you, but it's about time for you to wake up." She strode to Marceline's bass, still chained to the wall. "You've behaved, more or less. For us, anyway. So I'm going to return this to you." With one swipe of her black claw the silver chains were shattered, and while Marceline herself recoiled from the metal as if the mere sight of it could scald her the demon showed utter indifference. She instead merely picked up the bass and returned to her other self, turning the instrument over to its rightful owner. "Far be it from me to separate one part of us from the other." With a smug grin she waited for the vampire to cautiously take back her most precious possession before making her way to her office door.
After considerable hesitation, Marceline followed, silently wondering if the demon before her truly was the woman her friends had told her about, or if she was really just a figment of her nightmare. She probs wouldn't tell me even if I asked. This time when they stopped before her office door she didn't push it open. Instead she wore a self-satisfied smile, turning to appraise Marceline one last time. It was only then that the vampire noticed that the burning sensation in her left arm had ceased. Out of mindless curiosity she poked the metal, only to hiss and retract her hand. "Yeah, it's still silver. You probably should have asked." A sharp look didn't stop her laughter. "Hate to break it to you, but the only way you wake up without any lingering 'is this real or am I still in the nightmare?' problems is for you to rip it off." Her grey talon tapped the shackle. "When you rip this off, everything ends."
Marceline gaped at her, appraising her now; her immaculate suit, her father's amulet, pinned garnet eyes otherwise identical to her own, smug grin dripping all of the ego she never knew she could possess. It was, in a word, eerie, and the vampire was all-too eager to leave. "Wish granted!" Her hand wrapped around the top of the shackle and she could feel the hated metal scorch her flesh, burn into and through her, sear even the callouses, but she ignored all it, all of the anguish, and pulled with all of her enormous might. The great clasp shattered under her grip, the remnants of the restraint falling to the ground, leaving Marceline's hand to stitch itself together effortlessly, as if nothing had ever happened.
She had expected the world to melt away, or fall apart, or do something interesting once she ripped herself free, but was disappointed to see that the only change was that the office door slid itself open- dude, that's just like how Bonnie's lab door -compelling her to exit through it. The moment she was past the threshold the door slammed shut, the hydraulic lock setting itself into place. Before her was no hallway, nothing she recognized, nothing at all. Just a white void. "What the-"
"She's kind of a jerk, huh?"
She knew that voice. That stupid, infuriating voice. It wasn't the demon, no. It was a voice she hadn't heard in a very long time, one that made her blood figuratively boil. With a snarl she turned to the intruder in her mind, trying very, very hard not to murder him. "WHAT THE FLIP?!"
At least the Cosmic Owl had the decency to look chagrined before Marceline's glower. Chagrined, but unapologetic. "Sorry, kid. This seemed like the best way to tell you."
Somehow Marceline became even angrier. Quite a feet. "Are you seriously telling me that all this was just one of your dreams?! Was she even part of me or just one of your messed up illusions?!"
The cosmic entity fell silent for a long time before taking one clear step back in anticipation of the claws swipe launching where his beak had been only a moment before. "Sorry, kid," he repeated. "But you had to know, and you had to know now." A heavy pause before he shrugged. "Oh well. Good luck, Your Majesty!"
With a clap of his great wings the Cosmic Owl ended the dream.