I promised myself I wouldn't start any more big fanwork projects after completing Stranded, but then I read Homestuck in 11 days. And then read the Homestuck Epilogues. Now we're here. Welp.

I don't hate the THE. There are things about it which I dislike, but there are also things about it which I like. Hopefully, this fic will be a good testament to both.

There are a number of reasons why the title is what it is. I doubt any of them will be revealed in the story proper. It'll probably be the subject of another long-winded author's note. Speaking of which, I'll cut off here, lest the notes grow longer than the fic itself… oh my God, imagine if Hussie had posted author's notes in the Epilogues.

… OH MY GOD SO I JUST FOUND OUT THAT HOMESTUCK 2 IS NOW A THING AND THIS STORY IS NOW COMPLETELY INVALID ... screw it, I'm posting it anyway. Canon is a lie.

Okay, anyway, I hope you like it!

It was lucky for her that Dirk left Terezi alone after convincing her to join him on his mad rocket journey through the cosmos. She has no idea where she needs to go, nor does she have a time frame for when she needs to arrive. So she takes her sweet time strolling through Earth C and losing herself in the scenery.

Loopholes are a wonderful thing.

It's been so long since she's been on this planet that she feels the need to take in every element of the landscape. She's walking along a meandering dirt trail that cuts through an empty field, leading roughly towards the town ahead. The path smells like peanut butter and bread crumbs. The tall grass brushes against her blood-stained jeans. The midmorning sky sounds blue and calm, almost too blue to be true. John's wallet digs into her leg.

After several hours of meandering, Dirk's obnoxious text finally fades. Terezi heaves a sigh of relief. Thank God that creep's gone, she thinks. She doesn't trust anybody who has control of the metatextual properties of her story, even the well-intentioned ones. Especially since Dirk has set so bad of a precedent.

Perhaps being a Seer of Mind allows her to discern these differences, she wonders. Perhaps it also gives her some metatextual immunity. "OH TH4NK GOD", she mutters to herself.

There's still a lot Terezi needs to learn about her classpect.

She can't help but smile and run her tongue over her chapped lips when everything redshifts. Red is always a trustworthy colour. Any text tasting so good has to be well-mannered. She can't discern its identity any further than that, though, which is cause for mild concern.

Speaking of taste, Terezi feels her gut churn unhappily and remembers that she hasn't eaten any real food since what feels like five days ago. She needs food badly, even worse than she felt the need to join Dirk on his insane adventure when his text influenced her thoughts. Thank God that traitor's gone.

She sniffs around the present setting. It appears to be a suburban region of Earth C. A line of storefronts stretches down the street to her immediate left. Terezi doesn't have any cash on hand, so she figures that stealing is probably her best option. It's not like she hasn't done worse in the past.

She approaches the nearest grocery store. The glass door swings open on well-oiled hinges. Terezi's mouth waters upon catching the scent of the rich array of food products. Her gastrointestinal tract does a little happy dance.

She passes straight by the candy aisle. The garish colours intrigue her nose, but she could care less about anything that wouldn't fill her up.

She hesitates while passing the meat aisle. It's incredibly red and entrancing, and Terezi almost turns down it, but she worries about how it might sit in her digestive tract.

She turns down the bread aisle and lifts a couple of faux-Italian loaves (whatever that means) off the shelf. She surreptitiously captchalogues them both in her scratch-and-sniff sylladex. Having retrieved what she needs, Terezi hightails it out of the store, snatching a bottle of water on her way.

After absconding to a safe distance, she sits down on the curb and takes a huge bite out of one of the loaves. It's exactly what she needs. It's bland, sure, but it's easy to chew, and it's got a satisfying crunch.

Terezi devours both loaves in around three minutes, then washes them down with water. The redshift fades out, and the metatext is tinted no longer. She feels much better now. She smiles to herself. It's been God knows how long, but now she's safe at home, if she can call Earth C a home yet.

Terezi suddenly remembers the text that she received several hours ago. She unlocks her phone and smells that it's from John. Her mouth drops open.

She checks the wallet to make sure John's body is still in there. It is.

Hands shaking (whether in fear or anticipation, she isn't sure), she opens the message. Terezi almost drops her phone when she notices who actually sent it.

"Will you look at that?"

"I detect the encroaching planet."

"It's quite a sight to behold."

"It stirs no emotions within me, but I appreciate how it could do so within you."

"You know, I've always appreciated the company of robots over people. There's something about them that just… makes them more intriguing."

"I would appreciate expansion on your current train of thought."

"Well… you can never predict what a human will do. Or a troll, for that matter. The actions of robots, however, are governed by predictability and programming. It makes them so much easier to, ah, manipulate."

"That is an accurate statement."

"This planet, this one before us… it needs a name. How about... Beforus?"

"I comprehend that you have named the planet based on its relative location to us."

"Yes, but it's also a kick-axe name."

"That is an accurate statement."

"A planet of such high importance needs a kick-axe name."

"You have already told me that this planet will be home to the most important session of Sburb in the history of every universe."

"It will be. It might already have been, actually. Tenses are tough to manage in these scenarios."

"I am ready and willing to assist you on your quest."

"You'd better be. Oh, and quit talking like a robot. We both know you're faking it, and it's driving me forking insane."

"Okay. Sorry, Dirk. I just thought it was funny."

"It's not."

"You need to lighten up. Perhaps my aspect may be of assistance?"

"Stop."