John sits on a park bench next to Harry Anderson. A bag of moldy Wonderful Bread sits between them. They look out over a placid, perfect lake. Geese are gathered near the shore. Light from the setting sun glitters off the surface of the water.

Harry pulls out a slice of bread and tears off a piece the size of a golf ball. He tosses it in a lazy underhand. The geese flock to where the bread landed and tussle over it. Honking ensues. John can't help but wince unconsciously.

"gamzee really left a mark on you, didn't he," comments Harry.

"i think we can both agree that gamzee was a horrible person," John responds.

"damp right."

"according to karkat, he wasn't always so bad. but i'm not sure i believe that."

"why not?"

"because gamzee has done a lot of really bad things, like murdering and terrorising his former friends and fighting on aranea's side. you know, things like that. it makes me question whether he was ever a good guy to begin with."

Harry furrows his brow and thinks. John absent-mindedly summons a gust of wind which flings a piece of bread a good forty feet.

"couldn't you say the same thing about jane?"

John blinks. "i guess you're right. jane wasn't always so… you know."

"tyrannical?"

"yeah. that's one way to put it. she used to be really sweet, actually. she was always so kind and patient, and she would always make things for us, and…"

John sighs wistfully and tilts his head to the side. "you know, i can't believe jane's the same person as my nanna. i mean, they're not at all the same personality-wise, but they're genetically the same."

Harry raises his eyebrows. He lazily tosses another piece of bread to the birds. "how is that possible?"

"it's... a long story. the short version is, we needed to create ourselves in the game so that we could play the game and create ourselves."

"that sounds complicated."

"i still don't get it. you're not alone."

They're both silent for a moment, watching the geese honk amongst themselves. A feather floats to the ground, flashing neon orange and green. John studies it with curiosity, then slips it into his pocket.

"so... does that mean you think jane could redeem herself?"

Harry's question stops John in his tracks. He doesn't know, but he feels like he should have a more firm answer. Isn't that what good fathers do, have all the answers? Then again, this is father-son bonding time, so he decides to give an honest answer.

"i... i don't know. jane's done a lot of terrible things. tavros is living proof of them. but... i guess i'm still holding out hope for her, since she's my… since she used to be my friend."

Harry nods slowly. "i understand."

"of course, this doesn't mean i condone her actions. i don't. not in the slightest."

"who would?"

John almost responds by saying, "roxy," but he holds his tongue. That's a conversation for another day. Right now, he just wants to relax and hang out with his son.

And so he does. The two Egberts throw the last of the stale bread to the geese, who gobble it up greedily. Stars begin to crop up in the rapidly darkening sky. John gazes up at them.

"you know, back on the og earth, the stars wouldn't change position randomly from night to night."

"really?"

"yeah. while the sky rotated slowly, their positions stayed similar from night to night. i used to have a telescope, and i always tried to figure out where the constellations were, you know, the patterns of stars in the sky. they all had different names."

"like what?"

"there was one called the big dipper. it was shaped like a saucepan, and the end of it pointed towards the north star, the star that marked which direction north was."

"cool."

John grows lost in his reminiscences. He hasn't thought about stargazing since before he started Sburb. But the memories come back to him as though they happened yesterday: him and his dad standing on the balcony, pointing out shooting stars and planets and the craters on the moon.

He's snapped out of his reverie by Jade teleporting five feet to his left.

"augh! jade! a little warning would have been nice!"

But his ecto-sister looks uncharacteristically distraught. "have you seen dave? i havent heard from him in more than two days and im really worried! D:"

John shakes his head. "can't say that i have. didn't he say he was on a mission for the rebellion or something?"

"he was but we split up to cover more ground and i havent seen him since!"

"have you texted him?"

"yeah but he didnt respond :("

John shrugs his shoulders in defeat. "then i don't know what to tell you. wanna sit with us? we were feeding the geese, but we're out of bread now."

Jade nods and sits on the other side of John.

"oh, did you hear? (vriska's) back now!"

"really?"

Harry furrows his brow. "vriska's already here, dad."

"no, the other vriska. the one who vriska's named after. (vriska)."

"how did she get here?" asks Jade.

"she just… fell from the sky, like all the other ghosts. and meenah."

"huh well where is she now"

"i don't know. probably staying with rose and kanaya."

"id love to say hi!"

"i'm sure she'd appreciate it, but let's just chill out for now." John pulls the weird, flickering feather out of his pocket. "oh, and i found this a little while ago. figured you'd think it was neat."

Jade practically snatches the feather away from him. She inspects it closely and with growing recognition. "what the hail? howd this get here?"

It's better that he goes off alone. He needs some time to himself, and it's just him, for once. Just him. No voices, no duplicates, nothing. Just him.

Aradia doesn't need him. What has he ever done for her? He was the one who killed her! Why would she even keep him around? Did it give her some sort of sick, Equius-esque thrill? Why did he torture himself by staying with her? He needs to go. So he does.

Cassiopeia, or whatever the not-dog girl's name is, she doesn't need him, either. He's not a god-tier. He's no good at time or space stuff. He's a Mage of Doom. That's all he does: bring doom on people, try to protect people from it but fail. He's doomed to be terrible at his aspect, isn't he? No, he'll just be bad luck for her. He needs to go.

He's sick of dying. He's sick of these cheats that he keeps stumbling into which bring him back. If only he was so lucky when it came to gaming. He's sick of what happens when he finds himself back in his body, the sense of "Aw schist, here we go again".

He's sick of being relevant. But here, nothing matters. Here, he can just exist, and be at peace with himself for once.

He needs to go. He needs to stay. He needs to stop mattering.

Sollux lies back in the long grass and gazes up at the starry sky.

He wonders if Aradia will miss him.

No, no, she won't. Why would she? She's her, and he's just… him. And it's not like they ever established a quadrant, even before she died. They were just friends, nothing more. Why would she miss a friend? Wouldn't she just be 0kay with it?

He needs to continue being 0kay with things, too. He needs to take a leaf out of her book.

At the same time, a niggling seed of doubt lodges itself into his head. Maybe Aradia will miss him. Maybe he'll miss her. What if he already does?

He tries to brush the seed away, but it remains in place. Instead, he just ignores it. He's had plenty of practice waiting out and weeding out intrusive thoughts.

Besides, this is the most relaxed he's felt in a long, long time.

he feel2 0kay for 0nce. only half 0kay, but that2 go0d enough f0r hiim.