After finishing her shower, (Vriska) towels off and puts on Vriska's borrowed clothes. They fit almost perfectly. A bit tight around the hips, perhaps, but otherwise perfect.

She examines herself in the steamed-up mirror. Something seems a bit off about her reflection. She leans forward, elbows on the sink bowl, and wipes some of the fog off the mirror. She squints into it.

Yes, it's her eyes. Her irises have gone cobalt. They were mostly black before she jumped through the fenestrated plane, she remembers.

Exactly how long did she spend in there?

(Vriska) shakes her head. No, she's not going to worry about that right now. She's going to chill out. She can discuss it with Rose and Kanaya. She needs to relax for once in her life.

(Vriska) kicks her feet up on the couch and spreads her wet hair across the upholstery. It gives her satisfaction to see the immaculate living room defiled in such a manner. There's not much to do except wait. Wait for Rose and/or Kanaya to show up. Wait for Terezi to call or not. Wait for something exciting to do.

She's never been good at waiting.

(Vriska) rolls off the couch and strides to Vriska's room. The door is shut. "Any8ody call while I was in the shower?"

The response comes out slightly muffled. "No."

(Vriska's) face falls slightly. She would deny that it happened if asked. Instead, she wanders back into the living room and sits down. She wonders whether or not she should barge in on her doppelganger, but decides against it.

(Vriska) contemplates the message she sent to Terezi. Was it too heavy-handed? Too overwrought? Too out-of-character, so to speak? She runs all the numerous cringeworthy parts of the message through her head before finally sighing and giving up. It's not worth it to regret what she said, she thinks. What's done is done.

But did the message ruin her chances of ever talking to her again?

She doesn't have time to ruminate on the thought again before the front door opens.

Rose walks into the flat. "Vriska?" she calls.

(Vriska) freezes.

Rose looks much the same as she did before (Vriska) jumped through the window, but she shows signs of age and exhaustion. She looks like she's gained some weight. Her forehead is creased. Her wands stick out of the pocket of a black and lavender Alternian war uniform.

(Vriska) didn't realise until now exactly how much she missed her old friend.

"Why haven't you answered our calls? We're in the middle of a civil war!" she demands, hands on her hips.

(Vriska) forgets that she's supposed to be masquerading as her younger counterpart. She rushes forward and hugs Rose. Rose lets out a wordless exclamation and hesitatingly returns the embrace.

"Not that I don't appreciate the affection," begins Rose, "but you haven't hugged me with this much enthusiasm since you were in elementary school. What did you break this time?"

(Vriska) releases herself and wipes a tear from her eye. "I've missed you so much."

Rose blinks. "Wait, what?"

"Dampit, (Vriska), we had a Plan!" yells Vriska from her bedroom.

Rose furrows her brow. "What the hail are you up to?"

(Vriska) decides to hail with the bugging and fussing and meddling. "It's 8oth flattering and distur8ing that you would decide to adopt a clone of me and name her after me."

Rose connects the dots after a couple of seconds. Her face slowly brightens. "Holy schist, you're the original Vriska!"

"She's (Vriska), since I was Here First," says Vriska, leaving her room. "Oh, and you have a Message."

(Vriska) snatches John's phone from Vriska and reads the message from Terezi. She grins broadly. What nonsense is her moirail is up to?

But her question has been answered. Terezi does want to talk to her. A heavy weight falls off (Vriska's) shoulders, one that she didn't know was there.

Rose looks hesitant, like she wants to hug (Vriska) again, but she doesn't. Instead, she steps inside the flat. "We need to get back to the front lines. But how did you get here? How did the battle against Lord English go?"

"I… actually have no idea. Oh man, I have a hail of a story for you! Where's Kanaya?"

"She's with the freights. I really do need to get going, though. I'll try to carve out time for us to talk tomorrow. Vriska, can you get our guest situated for the night? I'm sure you must be exhausted."

(Vriska) nods. "Very much so."

They've been trapped in this endless void for what feels like forever. Indeed, it may well have been, for all they know. Time doesn't pass in here. The only reminder that they have of how long it's been is the ever-increasing number of wounds on their body.

A memory rises from their shared brain: a roleplay session, fighting against a much larger and stronger opponent. Their character was small and agile and dealt blows that were weak but numerous. They won that battle because of their great speed. It was a kickaxe purrformance.

And so goes their battle now, they think as they deal slice after slice to the green giant. He is mortally wounded from a strike with a reforged sword. All they need to do is drive him to exhaustion so that he can be finished off for good once they reach their destination.

It's easier said than done.

Another memory surfaces: a half-remembered myth from ages long past on a planet long dead. A tale of the cat, servant of the sun, who was doomed to eternal warfare with the snake, devourer of worlds. The two immortal beings would battle without ceasing until the world's end, until they both ripped each other to pieces. It's a fitting, almost poetic analogy. It would make a good theme for a rap battle.

They know they're doomed. They knew they were doomed from the start. Sprites cannot exist furever. And they were doomed even befur they became one.

Wouldn't it be the purrfect way to die, though? Sacrificing themselves so that efurryone else might never have to face the demeown's wrath? They know neither of them were cat out for being a hero on the furont lines. They were trained to battle, but rejected their path instead. They wanted to battle, but learned to hunt instead. Their role in the demon's demise is furking purrfect for them. For both of them.

And so they contimew to fight. Scratch after scratch, parry after parry, growing wearier by the hour. No end is in sight.

HEY GUYS PLOTHOLE ALERT! (Vriska) didn't know that her eyes had gone blue when she wrote the message to Terezi! My bad! There are a ton of plot threads in this story, and I'm weaving them together in a bit of a frenzy.

While you're here, here are some of the previously-promised reasons why this alternate timeline is called Eta, or the Etaverse (as opposed to, I don't know? The Breadverse?).

First off, the capital letter eta looks like an H. Eta also used to sound like H. H stands for Homestuck. Moving on.

This timeline diverges from pseudo-canon. It's now on the complex plane of canonicity, and the Greek letter (as opposed to a numeral) represents that.

Eta is the seventh letter of the Greek alphabet and has a value of eight in Greek numerals. (Oh, and it sounds like 8, too.) Guess who the seventh and eighth trolls are?

Okay, thanks for reading, see you on Friday!