A/N: (deep breath) I'm alive! Don't ask me how, but I'm alive! I'd hoped to post this about five days ago, ladies and gents, but environmental terrors got in the way. Long story short, a colossal thank you to all my viewers, reviewers, favouriters and followers!
Lizzie 2145: There will always be hope! Remember the message of Android Karenina!
Hourglass Cipher: Oh yes it will - alas, I have to delay that reunion for a few chapters...
Kraven the Hunter - keep your spirits up! There's still hope for those two yet. Oh, I may have to use "zitmice" at some point in the future - it's so gleefully irreverent I can actually hear it being spoken by Bill! Oh, and there will indeed be just a little bit more Pyronica...
OMAC001: I'm beginning a massive turnaround for the Zodiac's fortunes, so yes, there will be more optimism even in the gloom.
LoyalTheorist: Loved your review, and I particularly liked your prediction of Ford's state - time will tell wether it'll be true or not. Thanks again!
Magus Templar: Thank you so much for your overall review! I'm overwhelmed by your generosity, and I hope my output continues to live up to the standards set so far!
Northgalus2002: Well, if it helps, you might want to check out the final code in this chapter...
Promissa Fidel: So sorry to hear of your loss, and I'm glad that I was able to provide some small catharsis. Take as long as you need in times of crisis. In the meantime, thank you so much for your lovely long reviews: the conclusions you drew were brilliant!
Guest: Good news and bad news - the reunion will be happier, but Tzimisce isn't finished yet... (dramatic music)
Fantasy Fan 223: Thanks again for your review AND your art! I'm always flattered that my stories inspire such creations, and I hope this latest chapter proves worthy of the hype!
Anyway, without further ado, the latest chapter: read, review and above all, enjoy!
Disclaimer: Gravity Falls isn't mine; neither is the Cthulhu Mythos or Vampire: The Masquerade.
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For the next ten seconds, Mabel could only stare at Pacifica in utter incredulity, replaying the previous sentence in her mind over and over again, hoping that it might start making sense if she repeated it enough. So far, there didn't seem to be any light dawning no matter how she tried to process it.
After four or five repetitions the only sensible conclusion she could draw was that Bill was almost certainly screwing with her again. After all, that was the safe bet, wasn't it? Mabeland had always been intended as a trap, a place where good things only led to more opportunities for her to be selfish: what else could this "escape" be but another chance for Bill to railroad her into being a horrible person?
And yet… why would Pacifica have appeared as a doll? That was the one detail that made her doubt Bill's involvement – and probably the only thing keeping her from retreating to Sweater Town.
Meanwhile, Pacifica was loudly coughing for attention. "Mabel, are you awake in there? Don't mean to rush you or anything, but we really have to leave before Pyronica comes back."
By way of an answer, Mabel crept forward and gingerly prodded Pacifica in the chest. To her immense relief, her hand touched solid matter. Whatever this doll-person was, she was at least tangible enough to be touched… but then, that didn't necessarily mean she was actually real. Tentatively, she reached out for another test, only for Pacifica to gently push Mabel's hand away.
"Could you not?" she snapped. "I know this looks weird, but I am actually a living thing under all this porcelain. Well, something like a living thing, anyway."
Mabel took a deep breath, and realized she was trembling. "Are you real?" she asked softly, almost afraid to hear the answer.
"What?"
"Are you real?" Mabel burst out. "Are you another of Bill's tricks? Please, Pacifica, I need to know if you're real or not – I need to know."
"If I really was something Bill cooked up, then would I tell y…" Pacifica must have seen the look of desperation on Mabel's face, because she stopped in mid-sentence, visibly biting back a smartmouthed remark. "Yes," she said at last. "Yes, I'm real. I know things are pretty weird right now, but I promise you: I am the real Pacifica Elise Northwest, and I'm here to rescue you."
"Alright then… prove it."
"We really don't have time for this, Mabel: that neon-pink lunatic will be back any second and I already told you that I don't know if I'm up to fighting Henchm-"
"Prove it. Tell me something only you would know: names, addresses, passwords – anything, just give me something to go on. Please, whoever or whatever you are, I need to know, I need to know this isn't a trick."
Pacifica gritted her tiny porcelain teeth in a painful-looking rictus. "Mabel," she hissed, "I know I've said it before, but I'll say it again: if we die, I'm suing you."
Mabel's heart gave the tiniest of leaps.
"Pacifica?" she whispered, almost too afraid to even hope.
"Yes, I'm glad to see you too, we can catch up on happier times later, for now we just have to get out of here, etcetera, etcetera… oh, and could you please keep your voice down? The Henchmaniacs are a lot of things, but I'm pretty sure they aren't deaf."
Mabel hastily lowered her voice to a murmur... and then continued. This was the most important question of all: nothing could delay it – she had to know the answer to this if she'd ever be able to live with herself again. "Before we go, just tell me… is Dipper alive?"
For the first time since she'd arrived, a note of uncertainty flickered across the perfect porcelain features. "I don't know. I'm hoping he is. Bill told me that Dipper was still alive, and I know he's hardly trustworthy, but now that he's got control over literally everything, he can easily bring anyone back to life, right?"
"No, no, no, that's not what I meant, I-" Mabel took an even deeper breath. "Was Dipper still alive after my puppet show?"
Now it was Pacifica's turn to stare in incredulity. "Don't you remember?"
Mabel tried to keep her voice down, but as the stress of the last few days finally found an outlet, her voice began picking up speed and volume until at last she was almost shouting at the top of her lungs. "…I used to. At least, I think I used to. But during the last few days… or hours – I'm losing track of time – something went wrong and now I don't know what really happened anymore. Now it's like I've got two different sets of memories and neither of them make sense! I've run it back and forth in my head over and over again, and no matter how hard I try, it just doesn't make sense! It doesn't make sense! It do-"
"Mabel, your nose!"
Blinking in surprise at the look of concern on Pacifica's face, Mabel belatedly realized that she'd ended up with another nosebleed. As she reached for the box of tissues on the desk, Pacifica took the opportunity to reply.
"Look, just think about this for a minute," she began. "If Dipper had died right after the show, would I be here? Without Dipper, my parents wouldn't have anyone to exorcise the Lumberjack Ghost and Northwest Manor would have burned to the ground with everyone inside it. And even if I'd somehow survived all that…" Here, Pacifica bit her lip. "I wouldn't be who I am today. I'd still be just another link in the world's worst chain. So you see, the only reason why we're having this conversation right now is because Dipper is alive."
Once again, Mabel's heart gave a leap – miniscule at best, but it was enough to get her moving.
"Now, come on," Pacifica urged. "Let's not keep him waiting any longer. Now, we've got just a few minutes to gather up some supplies before we go-"
"Oh, and Waddles!" Mabel exclaimed, suddenly excited in spite of herself.
"…and Waddles, yes."
"Waddles! C'mere! We're getting out! We're all getting out!"
There was a muffled grunt from the adjoining room as Waddles slowly unearthed himself from the mass of pillows he'd been sleeping in for the past few hours, and trotted briskly up to the two of them with a look of what could only be described as relief in his tiny eyes. He'd spent most of his time in Mabeland unconscious, magically sedated and locked in another part of the building every time Mabel rebelled – if only because having Waddles around might have made her imprisonment a tiny bit easier – and even the little pig could realize that the two of them had been separated for far too long. For good measure, he even offered a welcoming oink to Pacifica.
For her part, Pacifica could only look bemused. "…hi. Um, we really need to get moving now, okay? I don't know how much time we have left, but-"
"What's going on here?"
Mabel very slowly turned in the direction of the door, and saw at once that Pyronica was standing there, her colossal horns carving divots in the ceiling as she dipped her head past the doorframe. The bucktoothed grin was gone from her face, her single gaping eye was narrowed with suspicion, and the flames shrouding her hands had begun to flicker violently.
"Anyone wanna explain?" she demanded. "What is Famine doing out of her enclosure, and what is she doing with Pestilence ahead of schedule?! Seriously, this is so far out of the gameplan it's not even funny! You, Llama-girl, what are you doing here? If you're powerful enough to be here and now, you should know the damn rules: you belong in the Northwest Mansion until Bill says so!"
She took a deep breath, closing her eye for a minute while she struggled to get her temper under control.
"Okay," she sighed at last. "Okay, okay, okay, I'm calm, I'm cool, I'm calm… I am A-Okay with this situation as it is."
She paused, visibly forcing her smile back on, and when she spoke again, her voice was once again sickly-sweet, more purring than grating. "I see what's going on here," she said. "You got a little bit carried away with all the new powers you got and decided to peek in on the rest of the petting zoo. Well, I get that, really, I do. You're a Northwest: you know you're better than any other human on the planet, so you like walking among the plebs just to rub it in their faces and make them feel all the more pathetic for not being you. So once you got all the powers of the throne, you decided to see what Shooting Star here was up to just so you could make her feel a little bit more miserable. I like your style, kiddo, but now's not the time: Shooting Star is off limits until Bill's done with her. So, if you'd just follow me, I'll take you home… and if you're on your best behaviour, I'll even give you some real people to test your powers on. How's that sound?"
"No."
The smile on Pyronica's face suddenly froze. "What."
"You heard," said Pacifica. She was afraid, now, trembling slightly in spite of her best attempts at bravado… but still she stood her ground. "I'm not playing along anymore," she continued defiantly. "I'm staging a jailbreak: I'm getting Mabel out of here, and there is nothing you can do to stop me."
For about five seconds, Pyronica could only stare down at the doll in utter bewilderment, smile gently shifting into reverse gear. "You're not supposed to be like this!" she hissed, suddenly furious again. "You're supposed to be almost one of us! You're supposed to act like one of the family! You're supposed to think like a Northwest!"
"And that's why you lose," Pacifica shot back. "Because you and Bill never really understood me, because you thought I was just another Northwest: arrogant, greedy, selfish – just like my father, right? Bill didn't really believe I rebelled against my family, not after all the Northwests who served him after all those years, so he thought that if he bribed me with enough power I'd be back to being another link in the world's worst chain. Is that it? Well it didn't work. You lost. Bill lost."
"But you're supposed to be under Bill's thumb! That last barb should have gone straight through your skull and into your frontal lobes, zapped what little empathy you had left! Why are you being so-"
Pyronica stopped in mid-sentence, jaw thundering open as some new realization sank in.
"You… don't have all the barbs? But how? How would you have known to stop? Who told you that you'd be able to open portals without taking all the barbs? That was supposed to be a secret!"
Her eye flickered to the shards of broken glass at the foot of the desk. "And you destroyed my batch of Bottled Serenity?!" she shrieked. "No, no, no! You are not making me lose this round, Llama-girl! I bet some my best slaves on this game – the best gladiators you could anywhere in what's left of this putrid ball of dirt – and I'm not handing over any of them to Lava Lamp just because YOU decided to spoil my gambit! I'm not losing any of my bets, I'm not losing face with the other Henchmaniacs, I'm not losing my part in this game, and I'm not having some porcelain-coated blue-blooded wannabe rebel STEAL MY GLORY!"
She pointed a long, flame-wreathed finger in Mabel's direction. "You, out. I don't care where you go, but get out of here – now."
But Mabel had heard enough: she wasn't going to back down, not when escape was within reach. She didn't even dignify the Henchmaniac with a response, but simply stood her ground in total silence.
Pyronica's face twitched violently, and the flames shrouding her hands suddenly blossomed, expanding to cover her shoulders. "Shooting Star, I'm warning you-"
"Go ahead and warn me then." Even Mabel was surprised at the iron in her voice.
"-If you think shutting you up in the void and introducing you to all your mangled relatives was the worst thing we can do to you, you're in for a nasty surprise-"
"Like what?" Mabel shouted. "What could you possibly do to me now? You're not going to kill me – not permanently, not without getting Bill mad over lost toys, and you've already put me through hell ever since Weirdmageddon went global, so what could you possibly do to me?!"
"I'LL DO EXACTLY WHAT I DID TO YOUR BROTHER!" Pyronica bellowed.
In spite of herself, Mabel smiled – a triumphant grin she hadn't worn in what felt like years. "So he really is still alive, then?" she replied, unable to keep the mischief out of her voice.
And if Pyronica had looked stunned beforehand, now she looked completely shell-shocked.
"You just made me lose," she said quietly. The flames were expanding once more, creeping from her shoulders to her spine, flowing up her neck and oozing across her horns. "You… you were supposed to suffer like never before and keep on suffering until you toed the line and… and you made me lose. That's five thousand slaves I'll never see again because of you. You made me lose. You… made… me… LOSE!"
Suddenly, she was in motion, a neon-pink ball of flame rocketing towards Mabel at the speed of sound. But before she could reach her, before Mabel could even think of using her newfound power over time, however, a blur of blue satin and blonde hair shot in from the left and slammed into Pyronica at high speed, catapulting the Henchmaniac backwards across the room and into a shelf of kitschy paraphernalia with an ear-splitting crash. Blinking wildly against the gale-force wind of acceleration, Mabel saw that the blur was none other than Pacifica, now hovering ten feet off the floor and shrouded by a vivid aura of energies.
"HA!" she crowed triumphantly. "Guess I am up to fighting Henchmaniacs after all!"
There was a blood-curdling howl of fury from the ruins of the shelves, and Pyronica burst free with a colossal blast of pink flame and ceramic shrapnel. "It's not going to be that easy, Llama-girl," she hissed, apoplectic with rage.
Pacifica threw a hasty glance over her shoulder. "Take cover, quick!"
"But I can help-"
"Not the time to argue, Mabel!"
And any further objections Mabel had were drowned out by a furious growling from Pyronica. Snarling loud enough to rattle the windowpanes, she advanced on Pacifica, luminous magenta-tinted flames billowing from her outstretched hands and rippling across the carpet towards her. For her part, Pacifica just swatted the flames aside with another flex of her inexplicable new powers and retaliated accordingly, pelting the oncoming Henchmaniac with a barrage of tyre-sized fireballs. None of them appeared to do any serious damage to the target – after all, how could you burn someone who was already on fire 24/7? – but the constant flash of erupting fireballs definitely left her disoriented; her next attack, a pulse of squirming red-and-black energies oozing across the air like a writhing horde of worms, missed Pacifica completely.
By way of a reply, Pacifica waved a hand, sending every single loose object in the room flying at the oncoming Henchmaniac in a telekinetic hailstorm: paperweights, desktop ornaments, beanbag chairs, end-tables, the remnants of the shelves, and even Mabel's colossal desk rose into the air and catapulted themselves at Pyronica. Desk drawers and display cases long since sealed shut even to Mabel now tore themselves open, pelting the neon-pink demon with a host of treasures forbidden to the mistress of Mabeland – including her grappling hook. Larger pieces of furniture were easily deflected with brisk swings of Pyronica's colossal fists, but the smaller objects slipped past her defences, bouncing off her horns and shattering against her skull – not enough to seriously injure, but more than enough to leave her reeling.
Hoping to tip the odds a little further in Pacifica's direction, Mabel hurried over, hoping that she might be able to use her time-powers on demand for once. Unfortunately, she'd chosen the wrong moment: no sooner had she stepped forward, a sizeable piece of deflected furniture came rushing in from above and landed squarely on top of her. On the upside, beanbag chairs weren't serious crushing hazards even at the size Mabel liked them, but it took a little while for her to find the edge of the bag and clamber out from under it, and by then, the tide had already turned.
Pyronica's jaws had gaped open into a distended fang-lined maw, her tongue rocketing outwards and latching onto Pacifica's leg before she could float out of range. The telekinetic storm instantly ceased, leaving most of the objects to clatter harmlessly to the ground as Pyronica reeled her target in. For one heart-stopping moment of terror, Mabel thought the Henchmaniac was actually going to swallow her whole, but instead, Pyronica once again let her go just before the beartrap-like jaws slammed shut, snatching her out of the air with one flame-shrouded hand and pinning her to the ground.
"Oh, I'm going to have fun with you," she chortled. "I'm more than ready to rehash the old favourites. You know what I did to Pine Tree? I flayed him from the eyebrows up, tore his skin off and left him bleeding in the dirt, screaming like a disembowelled baby. Better still, I made sure he survived… and best of all, I did it all while disguised as you!"
From somewhere just beneath the Henchmaniac's colossal hand, Pacifica let out a muffled scream of rage.
"That's right," cackled Pyronica. "You had a thing for him, didn't you? Well, I couldn't have done it without you, Llama Girl: he had a crush on you too – or at least, he used to. Bet you wish you really had been too much of a Northwest for him now, huh? Oh, just imagine leaning in to kiss his pretty little face, and watching his eyes go wide in horror! Can you even imagine those screams? Oh, but you won't have to – because I'm going to do the same thing to both of you! I'm going to wear your skin as shoes – one porcelain, one leather!"
She reached down, blazing fingers curling into talons. "Close your eyes now. Just lie back and think of Pine Tree. Just imagine him lying in the dirt, blood pouring out of his head, crying like the pathetic waste of flesh he always was. Imagine those screams…" Pyronica's grating purred twisted into a horrifically-accurate mimicry of Dipper's voice. "'Aaaaaaarrghh! Noooo! Mommmmyyyyy! Help! Mabel! Grunkle Stan! Grunkle Ford! Anyone! Help meeeeee-'"
Mabel didn't even recall moving, let alone how she ended up with a weapon in her hands. One minute she was slumped on the floor, struggling to get her feet untangled from the beanbag and musing at the familiar sight of the grappling hook in the floor in front of her; the next she was on her feet, armed and ready.
Noticing the muffled phut echoing across the room, Pyronica looked up just in time to get the hooks of the grapnel square in her gums. Caught off-guard, she lurched away with a squeal of pain and surprise, lost her footing, tripped over the overturned desk, and crashed facefirst into a wall.
"GRAPPLING HOOK!" Mabel shouted triumphantly.
Groaning, Pyronica prised herself away from the ruined brickwork, spitting plaster.
"Ow," she panted. "You think that's… that's all it takes? You can't even hurt me, much less-"
Her eye widened as she noticed a freshly-airborne Pacifica making a few well-chosen gestures in her direction; a moment later, the desk caught Pyronica squarely in the face. This time, she rose spitting teeth instead.
"Alright," she mumbled. "If you want to spend the rest of your lives in the void, that's just fine." Clearing her throat, she turned to the nearest window, and bellowed "CITIZENS OF MABELAND! YOUR MISTRESS IS ESCAPING! TO ARMS – NOW!"
For a moment, there was silence.
Then, the alarm bells began sounding. A quick glance out the window revealed that all over Mabeland, waffle guards were ascending skywards, swarming towards the tower in a vast stream of heavily-armed batter.
Behind them, the cuddly kitten soldiers followed in their thousands, shouldering their rifles and leaping nimbly over low rooftops as they honed in on the tower – the first rank immediately scaling its walls with their bare claws. Leading the horde was Dippy Fresh, racing ahead of them on his skateboard, armed with a baseball bat and screaming radical warcries at the top of his voice.
And some distance behind the army, a vast column of armoured vehicles made a beeline in the direction of the tower, their silvery hulls and gold-leaf decorations glittering magnificently in the sunlight: jeeps, trucks, tanks, rocket platforms, all rumbling down the road towards Mabel – all of them ready to fire at a moment's notice.
And at the far end of this colossal armoured serpent, just past a devastating array of hideously beweaponed fighter planes, Judge Kitty Kitty Meow Meow Face-Shwartstein stood on the bridge of a massive dolphin-shaped airship, its muscular arms tipped with missile-launching fingers, its bottle-nosed snout literally armed to the teeth with technicolour energy weapons: the pride of Mabeland's armed forces, the flagship of its mighty security fleet, the MAFV Aoshima.
Not far behind the armada, the citizens of Mabeland awkwardly followed on foot, a poorly-armed ragtag militia aimed in the direction of the dissenters and shepherded along by a small brigade of brutal enforcers. Having been dragged out of their homes and told to apprehend the "offending elements" – or face execution – these unfortunates now made up the bulk of a million-strong army converging on Mabel's tower.
Once again, the forces of Mabeland were out to stop its apparent mistress at all costs.
The next ten minutes were a little hazy.
Mabel knew for a fact that Pacifica spent the first thirty seconds locked in a brutal psychic melee with Pyronica; she remembered the first of the waffle guards pouring in through the windows, and she quite clearly recalled the exact moment when the cute kitten soldiers began scrambling up the sides of the tower. But once Dippy Fresh arrived on the scene, skateboarding across the walls and guffawing like an idiot, things got just a tad confused.
Whatever the case, it was one of the single most violent and disorienting fights that Mabel had ever been in during her short-but-colourful life: a sizeable number of the kitten soldiers and the waffle guards were trying to restrain her, pouring in on Mabel at all angles in a furious attempt to seize her arms and force her into handcuffs; the rest joined Pyronica in trying to kill, maim or capture Pacifica (not necessarily in that order); Pacifica was bombarding any opponent in rage with an increasingly destructive barrage of psychic power, from telekinetic hailstorms to pyrokinetic blazes, along with occasional branches of energy that even Mabel had trouble recognizing; and Mabel herself, unable to get her powers to work on demand, was fighting off her opponents with anything she could get her hands on.
Chairs, table-legs, lightweight furniture, her grappling hook, weapons from fallen soldiers, the fallen soldiers themselves – if it was within reach, it was repurposed as a weapon. More than once, she was forced to make do with her bare hands – or, in the case of the waffle guards, her teeth.
Less than forty seconds in, the exertion of battle and the sheer influx of enemies reduced the whole thing to a blurry procession of bangs, crashes, screams and the occasional explosion. Most of the time, Mabel wasn't really sure what she was doing: all she knew was strain of her arms and the desperate need to keep the advancing soldiers at bay. But even amidst the chaos and carnage of the battle, a few moments still stood out in perfect detail:
The Aoshima strafing the tower, its gun turrets peppering the windows with gunfire as Judge Kitty hollered orders at the troops via a megaphone…
…A giant waffle guard being toasted by Pacifica's abilities and flung out the window – where he was messily devoured by the hungry militia…
…The grappling hook snagging a kitten soldier by the collar, allowing Mabel to swing him around like a fail, bringing down a whole crowd of oncoming guards…
…Pyronica, excited with rage, snatching up a bundle of her own protesting troops and launching them at Pacifica two at a time…
…bolts of lightning arcing across the room, burning the carpet and searing several unfortunate militiamen out of existence…
…an overzealous kitten guard accidentally tripping over Waddles and tumbling headlong into a waffle guards ("Good boy, Waddles!")…
…the tower shaking as the tanks outside opened fire, sending dust and chunks of masonry raining down from the ceiling…
…Mabel picking up a waffle guard's fallen table knife and getting into a short but vicious sword-fight with the captain of the guard …
…a ponderous plush-toy official trying to open the door to the void, only to end up being bowled over by an artillery blast and pitched right through the rapidly-closing doorway…
…Pacifica finally managing to get the upper hand in her psychic armwrestle with Pyronica, catapulting the Henchmanic clean through a wall and into the Aoshima's engines, sending the vast airship on a death-dive into the armoured column below…
…Dippy Fresh lunging towards her, handcuffs at the ready – only for Mabel to kick the skateboard out from under him and pummel him in the crotch with it, leaving him to crawl helplessly away with a whimper of "Not cool, man…"
Eventually, another explosion below finally snapped Mabel out of the haze, and she realized that the melee was beginning to clear: with Pyronica still trying to claw her way out of Aoshima's wreckage, Dippy Fresh retreating and Judge Kitty stranded too far away to do anything meaningful, the demoralized enemy troops had clearly had enough for the day. Unfortunately, that left the war engines below with no reason to hold back: immediately, the tower shook as a series of artillery strikes hammered into the foundations, and from below came a long drawn-out groan as the building began to crumble.
"How were you planning on getting us out of here?" Mabel panted, as the bombardment temporarily subsided. "Not trying to sound gloomy or anything, but I think I'm gonna pass out if we continue fighting."
Pacifica sighed and finally lowered herself to the ground. "I got in through a portal just outside the room," she explained, "But I had to close it the moment I realized there was a Henchmaniac in the area – I didn't want her finding her way back to my parents."
"Well, can't you just open another one?"
"Not as easy as it sounds: it takes a little while to open portals, and at the rate these kitten-things are bombing the tower, I don't know if the building will stay up long enough for me to get going. Besides, I haven't quite… adjusted yet: it takes me a while for my powers to get used to new playgrounds."
"Is that why you started off small in the battle?"
"That's one reason, but- LOOK OUT!"
Mabel wheeled around just in time to see a waffle guard, a straggler fighting his way out of the stampede, zeroing in on her with a massive net in his overmuscled hands, ready to throw it over her head. Taken completely off-guard, Mabel was too surprised to move in that moment, her mind suddenly crowded – once again – with all the things she wouldn't be able to do if she were captured and killed.
And once again –
Magic flared outwards.
This time, it didn't stop her attacker completely, but it certainly slowed down: the waffle guard was still moving, but very, very slowly – perhaps half an inch per minute by the looks of things.
There was a stunned pause, as Pacifica looked from Mabel to the now-harmless guard. "Do you want to explain how you did that?"
Mabel opened her mouth to explain… and then an idea struck her. Suddenly operating on autopilot, she scooped Waddles up and made a beeline for the back of her room, mind working faster than ever before.
"We don't need a portal," she realized aloud. "We've already got one!"
"Where are we? And why it look so much like Gravity Falls?"
"This is Endless Summer – and it pretty much is Gravity Falls, just frozen in time."
"You still haven't explained what we're doing here, Mabel."
"Well, we're buying a little time for you to conjure a portal out of the prison."
"But it works best if I'm right on the edge of the playground! What are we doing right in the middle of the town?"
"It has to be here, Pacifica, or not at all."
"And what if that army of kittens and waffle-men follows us in here? I still can't believe I'm saying that, by the way."
"Well, they've never been able to leave Mabeland, so we should be safe."
"Should? Oh, even better. And what about Pyronica? She's not one of the Mabeland creations, so the same rules don't apply to her. What if she follows us?"
"Don't worry: I've got a big surprise for her!"
Pacifica sighed deeply. So far, she had just about given up trying to imagine what had happened to Mabel since she'd last seen her back in the Fearamid: she thought that what little she'd overheard in Pyronica's monologue might be able to explain things, but Mabel's "confession" and all her queries about reality and Dipper's survival had driven away those little certainties in a matter of seconds; her sudden manifestation of time-controlling powers had just about killed any further guessing stone dead. Now that they were in Endless Summer and running through the streets seemingly at random, she was officially out of ideas: nothing could possibly explain what Mabel was doing or why.
Just trust her, Pacifica told herself. She's saved your life before: she obviously knows what she's doing. She's not a lunatic or anything like that; she's just a little frazzled, that's all.
"Vampires!" Mabel exclaimed suddenly. "They never look the way you think they will, do they?"
Oh god, I'm following a madwoman with a pig under her arm.
And then, just as Pacifica was starting to wonder if they'd ever get around to opening their exit portal, there was a thunderous crash from behind them, followed by a distant but unmistakeable shriek of laughter. A quick glance over their shoulders revealed that a massive plume of smoke was billowing up from the very edge of the forest, right at the very point where the gateway from Mabeland had deposited them.
"COME OUT, COME OUT, WHEREVER YOU ARE!" Pyronica howled. "DON'T MAKE ME ABUSE ANY MORE CLICHES, BECAUSE I'M NOT IN THE MOOD FOR IT!"
"Well, she's followed us," Pacifica muttered. "What do we do now?"
Mabel hastily set down Waddles, and began hurriedly scanning the street-signs around them, as if searching for her answer. "You stay here," she said at last. "Get to work on opening that portal. If I'm not back in the next minute, leave without me. Just look after Waddles, okay?"
And with that, she took to her heels again, sprinting down the road as fast as her tattered shoes could carry her.
"Wait!" Pacifica hollered after her. "Where are you going?"
"To get that surprise I told you about!" she shouted back, vanishing around the corner before Pacifica could ask for clarification.
For a moment, Pacifica seriously considered hurrying after her, either to assist in whatever she had planned or just to drag her back before she did something terminally stupid; after all, thanks to her new powers, she was a lot faster in the air than Mabel was on the ground. But in the end, she decided against it: even if the plan didn't work, they'd still need an opened portal on the double. So instead she stayed put, and set to work on the process of shaping the ethereal atmosphere into a gateway, hoping against hope that Mabel knew what she was doing.
"YOU WANT TO MAKE A GAME OF THIS?" Pyronica roared; her voice was much closer now, and the neon-pink glow of her flames could already been seen billowing across the rooftops. "THAT'S JUST FINE BY ME! I LIKE GAMES! SO WHAT'LL IT BE? GUESS-A-HIDING SPOT? HIDE-AND-SEEK? HOT AND COLD? OOH, LET'S MAKE IT HOT AND COLD… BUT I BET YOU'LL FRY ALIVE LONG BEFORE YOU ADMIT DEFEAT!"
I really hope this plan of yours is up to scratch, Mabel, because if this doesn't work, Bill is going to know that we escaped… and I don't like the odds of withstanding an all-out attack from him and the rest of the Henchmaniacs.
"CHECKERS? BLACKJACK? CHAINSAW JUGGLING? OR HOW ABOUT RUSSIAN ROULETTE? I'VE ALWAYS WANTED TO SEE WHAT DOLL BRAINS LOOK LIKE…"
Pacifica muttered a few less-than-ladylike expletives under her breath as she struggled to get the portal open: as always, it was easier to close the damn thing that it was to open them, but with Pyronica breathing down her neck it was a thousand much harder to focus her willpower on a doorway leading back to her parents, and in the middle of this particular duplex playground it was like trying to wrestle water.
Not too far away, there was a muffled rumble, followed closely by a series of gunshot-like clicks.
"Pacifica!" Mabel shouted. "Job's done! Get the portal ready!"
Much closer, there was an ear-splitting shriek of tortured metal, and the ruined carcass of a pickup truck went soaring over the rooftops less than a hundred yards away from Pacifica's position. And when Pyronica spoke again, her voice was much nearer – almost whispered in her ear… except, if Pacifica's psychic radar was any evidence, the Henchmaniac was still at least a block or two away.
"You think Shooting Star's your friend, Llama Girl?" Pyronica telepathically sneered. "Think again. She's a friend to nobody but herself. A lying, traitorous backstabbing cow. And I should know: the only reason us Henchmaniacs are here is because of Shooting Star's treachery. I mean, I'm betting you've already heard the story about how the Rift 'accidentally' broke in her backpack, am I right?"
Pacifica hesitated. Back in the Mystery Shack, Dipper had been very open in explaining how the Rift had first been broken after the argument with him and Mabel, and he'd placed the blame very squarely on himself for getting the bags mixed up. At the time, Pacifica had accepted this explanation, especially once the work on the Shacktron had begun… but now she thought about it, it did seem a little bit conspicuous that Mabel had been so quiet when Dipper had explained the accident.
"Oh yes, I can tell you have. Well, what if I told you that it wasn't an accident at all? What if I told you that you've just teamed up to the greatest traitor in recorded history? What if I told you that your little friend helped doom the human race to an eternity of torture?"
In that moment, Mabel arrived, sprinting around the corner and skidding to a halt right next to Pacifica; behind her, the clattering noise echoed in the distance, louder than before. "He'll be along in just a few seconds," she panted. "You'd better get that portal open soon or-"
"Oh, Shooting Star!" Pyronica cackled; she was closer now, less than a few streets away from their position if Pacifica's senses were accurate. "We were just talking about you! I was telling Llama Girl here all about the day you gave Bill Cipher the Rift!"
Mabel froze, an expression of horror immediately stamped on her face.
"That's right! SHE started Weirdmageddon! She wanted to keep Pine Tree by her side, an eternal summer that she could end any time she liked, and Bill decided to oblige her: she gave him the Rift, he gave her Mabeland, and because of her, BILL CIPHER RULES ETERNAL! How does that make you feel, Llama Girl, knowing that your friend here doomed you to everlasting torment? Ready to kill her? Ready to make her suffer just as badly as you suffered? As badly as Pine Tree suffered?"
Pacifica looked down in astonishment at Mabel, who was now staring at her shoes, shamefaced and wilting in the limelight.
That's what she was confessing to back there, she realized. That's why she's been going to pieces in here. God, how long has she been going crazy because of all this?
Once again, the gunshot-like clattering sounded – this time much closer.
"And that's going to be the real fun," said Pyronica triumphantly. "Watching you on the day you finally get to see what Bill did to ol' Pine Tree. Oh, it's gonna be biblical, Shooting Star. It's going to be nothing short of MONSTROUS!"
There was a blur of motion, and then Pyronica was standing over them; now thirty feet tall and all ablaze, her body rippled with neon-pink flames and sparks poured from her needle-sharp stilettos like tiny rocks.
"FOUND YOOOOOUUUUUU!" she bellowed. "IT'S TIME FOR FUN AND … what was that noise?"
Again, the clattering rippled down the street, somehow louder even than Pyronica's roaring.
And then Mabel's "surprise" landed on her with a bone-splintering crunch.
A gargantuan ball of writhing flesh the size of a semitrailer mounted on dozens of multi-joined crustacean legs, it had somehow pounced on Pyronica from one of the nearby rooftops and immediately sank a bouquet of leech-like siphons into the startled Henchmaniac's belly. Screaming, Pyronica tried to wriggle out of the monster's grasp, but it merely sprouted a cluster of scorpion-stingers from its underbelly and pinned her to the ground by the shoulders.
"Fresh prey!" it thundered from a thousand screaming mouths studded across its back. "At last, a substantial meal! Surrender your blood, demon-thing! Be of me!"
Hundreds of tentacles erupted from the creature's flanks, each one tipped with a leech's head, all of them greedily seeking out Pyronica's flesh and latching on with gluttonous abandon. Howling untranslatable expletives, she pummelled it again and again with her flame-shrouded fists, and though the fire clearly scorched its colossal bulk and left charred craters all across its underbelly, the wounds seemed to vanish within seconds of appearing – even quicker as the monster began sucking hungrily at her veins.
"What the hell is that thing?!" Pacifica shrieked.
"It's Tzimisce," said Mabel, sounding shell-shocked and faraway.
"Shimmy-see-what?"
The question seemed to budge Mabel from whatever trance she'd been hovering in for the last few minutes; suddenly, she was awake and alert again. "Nevermind that," she said urgently. "We've got to get that portal open now, before that thing decides to have you for dessert!"
Concentration now fully unoccupied, Pacifica made another grab for the edges of the portal she'd been forming – and this time, the fissure opened wide, blinding white light unfolding from nowhere to cover the entire roadway ahead. Then, telekinetically shoving Waddles into Mabel's arms, Pacifica grabbed her by the sleeve of her sweater and dragged her through the portal.
For the next few seconds, all the three of them knew was the same kaleidoscopic display that had played out across all other portal. And all the while, Pacifica couldn't shake the feeling that something was following them–
-and then they were tumbling out across barren soil, rolling to a halt amidst the roots of a dead tree.
No sooner had Pacifica sat up again, there was a diabolical scream from the portal; split-seconds later, Pyronica's head burst through the portal, her single eye wide with hate, jaws gnashing in rage. A moment later, her right arm dug deep into the ground like a harpoon, anchoring her in place.
However she'd escaped from her struggle with Tzimisce, she hadn't done so unscathed: luminescent blood poured from over a dozen puncture wounds across her body, one of her horns had been snapped clean off, she was missing her left arm just below the elbow… but in spite of all that, she was still fighting. A quick glance in the direction of the portal revealed that she had barely managed to step through the doorway, for one of Tzimisce's tentacles had snagged around her legs, and the only reason why she'd managed to reach as far as the exit was by growing as tall as she possibly could. She was all ablaze now, trying frantically to either burn away the tentacle or simply force it to release her: once that was gone, there'd be nothing to stop her from reaching them.
"I… DO… NOT… LOSE!" she roared at the top of her lungs. "YOU'RE COMING BACK WITH ME, AND YOU'RE GOING TO DRINK THAT BOTTLED SERENITY IF I HAVE TO FORCE IT DOWN YOUR THROAT! I'M WINNING THAT BET IF IT'S THE LAST THING I-"
Her face froze mid-scream, suddenly cutting off the diatribe.
"I can't hold her like this forever, Pacifica," Mabel gasped.
Acting on instinct, Pacifica reached out with all her power, grasping the edges of the portal as tightly as she could – and then forced them closed.
Pyronica had just enough time to let out a surprised and purely telepathic mutter of "Well that wasn't supposed to happen!"
And then the portal slammed shut; with a muffled woosh, the energies of the ethereal gateway sheared through her remaining arm, tore through her neck and neatly decapitated her just below the chin, sending her head rolling helplessly into a ditch as the portal finally dissipated.
For almost five minutes, Mabel and Pacifica could only lie there, wearied from their exertions and bewildered at the fact that they'd somehow achieved the impossible.
They'd just killed a Henchmaniac.
Against all odds, they'd slain one of Bill's elite minions… and suddenly the odds didn't seem quite so astronomical as before – to Pacifica at any rate. For the longest time, she wanted to punch the air in triumph, to hug someone, to shout with joy; for the time being, she was still too overwhelmed by the last few minutes of fighting.
It was Mabel who was first to break the silence – timidly, barely raising her voice above a whisper.
"I know I don't have any right to ask anything of you right now, but…" She paused, clearly struggling to collect herself; her eyes were full of tears. "But if you could just drop me off in another playground, I won't bother you again."
Pacifica blinked in confusion. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm guessing you probably don't want to be around me anymore, and I don't blame you for that. I don't blame you at all. I just lead a minute of your time, and portal to help me move to wherever I need to be next: if Dipper's still alive, I need to find him, and I know for a fact that I don't deserve company after… after what I did. So I'll have to go it alone."
This time, Pacifica couldn't even blink: she could only stare in astonishment.
"I mean, maybe I don't even deserve the luxury of your help, and that's…" Mabel's lower lip wobbled dangerously; she was clearly struggling not to cry now, fighting with all her might to keep her breath steady, "That's more than fair," she continued at last. "Perhaps there's another way out of here, so I-"
She stumbled away, loping awkwardly down the rough pathway back into the wasteland – only for Pacifica's telekinetic lasso to haul her back down the road until the two of them were almost eye to eye.
"Where exactly do you think you're going?" Pacifica demanded.
"I just told you: I'm going to find Dipper."
"Not on your own, you're not! We're staying together on this."
Now it was Mabel's turn to look astonished. "But I… you heard what Pyronica said about me, right? About how I gave Bill the Rift, started Weirdmageddon, doomed the world – I mean, you do realize that all of it was true?"
"Of course I do. I overheard enough of your confession to make me wonder a bit, and Pyronica just about sealed the deal."
"Then why…" She really was crying now, tears rolling down her cheeks in their dozens. "Why would you want to be anywhere near me after everything I've done? I gave Bill everything he needed to take over the world; sure, I didn't realize it was him at the time, but that doesn't change the fact that I was willing to do anything to get just a little more summer! It doesn't change the fact that I was stupid and selfish and I got everything I deserved back in that prison!"
"Mabel, it wasn't your fault," Pacifica soothed. "Bill tricked you – just like he tricks everyone."
"It doesn't excuse anything! Everything that happened after that deal – Weirdmageddon, Bill torturing Grunkle Ford, Grunkle Stan getting shot, the world ending, everyone getting tortured and imprisoned – all of that was my fault! Don't you see that? And where was I while everyone was out there in the wasteland? I was living it up in Mabeland! I replaced Dipper! I made "a more supportive brother" because I couldn't care about the real one! And now… now Dipper's imprisoned somewhere and Bill's done something awful to him and…" she let out a choked sob. "Look at what happened to you! Bill transformed you into a doll because of what I did! Why do you even want to be anywhere near me?"
"Because I'm your friend, remember?"
"Why are you being so nice to me?!" Mabel wailed. "I'm a horrible person!"
"So was I."
Mabel blinked, caught completely off-guard. "…what?"
"Don't you remember what I was like when we first met, Mabel? I was everything my father wanted in his heir: arrogant, spiteful, bigoted, and above all else, loyal to nobody but the family. I followed every single one of his orders without question – not just the ones about holding myself above the rest of the plebs, either, but the orders that we didn't want the police to know about. The ones that I was uncomfortable with. The ones that made me feel sick just looking at myself in the mirror afterwards. Do you remember why you and Dipper were invited to the Northwest party? Father and I knew all about the ghost that had been haunting the mansion; we knew the Lumberjack had died because of Nathaniel Northwest's crimes, and we knew how to placate him… but instead, Father told me to sweet-talk Dipper into getting rid of the ghost, to wine and dine him into getting everything we needed to cover up our dirty little secrets.
"And you know what? Father didn't have to trick me into doing it. He didn't even need to use the bell on me that time. I just… did what I was told. It wasn't until Dipper shouted at me that I finally felt guilty, and it wasn't until I finally found that shrine of the Northwest atrocities that I realized that our legacy was a sham and every scion of our proud family had been rotten to the core – but most of all that I was a horrible person. But with Dipper's help, I changed: in spite of my Father, in spite of the bell, I changed. And whatever you did back when you were still being conned by Bill, whatever you did when you were in the Prison Bubble, you've changed as well: you left Mabeland the first time, right? And whatever Bill did to you in there, whatever Pyronica tried to tempt you with, it didn't work: you're still a good person.You know it, I know it… and most importantly, Dipper knows it."
"…really? You really think he'd forgive me for Weirdmageddon?"
"Why wouldn't he, Mabel? He's your brother: after everything you've been through together, after all the mistakes you've made, why wouldn't he forgive you?"
And against all the instincts that Father had once tried so hard to instil in her, Pacifica lifted herself until she was at eye level with Mabel's face, and then hugged her tightly around the neck.
Sobbing openly, Mabel returned the hug as best as should could – no easy feat considering the target was the size of a doll. For thirty seconds, the two remained locked in their hug, until at last Mabel's tears had ceased and at last she could breathe easily.
"Now dry your eyes," Pacifica said gently. "It's time we went looking for Dipper."
Barely a skein of reality away, eldritch eyes watched the two playthings leave with considerable interest.
"Heartwarming," said Nyarlathotep. "I'd say those two are off to a good start, wouldn't you?"
"You still have not answered my questions," said Tzimisce, his bulk rippling with indignation. "Who are you and why have you disturbed my feast?"
"Folks around here call me "Mr Carter." Older tongues called me Nyarlathotep, the Black Pharaoh. My true name? Well, that's something left for madder minds to translate. But I imagine you understand the mutability of names by now, yes? As for why I've interrupted your rediscovery of the Beast's hunger… well, you might say I have a business proposition for you."
"Is that so?"
"Oh yes. It so happens that your presence here could prove advantageous. By now I know this… extension of yourself has no ability to traverse the playgrounds that Bill has created. Perhaps your true body could manage it, but then your true body's currently confined to your home dimension - and the size of a planet, but there you go. More importantly, I know you've realized that the universe is much vaster than you suspect, and that there are beings far greater than even you out there: you mean to feast on them and steal their power, to diablerize them just as Cappadocius planned to devour God himself… but you'll never reach them without my help."
"So I am forced to once again make a pact with the Infernal. Very well then. If you are to be my Kupala in this new world, so be it: what do you want in exchange?"
"A simple matter: all I wish is for you to pit your current body against a certain entity, a Shapeshifter. This being is young, untested, doubtlessly unprepared for the trials ahead, but dangerous nonetheless; you know better than I do the might of a Shapeshifter without limits on his powers. I wish for you to do battle with him, to hone him for the struggles that he will face in the world that lies beyond this."
"He is your… childer?"
"Hardly."
"Apprentice, then?"
"Not exactly."
"A pawn, perhaps? Someone you are grooming for something greater, in any event?"
"You could say that. I've no doubt it will be an arduous battle, and this proxy body of yours may not survive it, but if you agree to put every last atom of your strength into battling the Shapeshifter – and if he survives in spite of it – you will have an entire multiverse of gods on which to feast."
"That is all?"
"That's all. So, what do you say?"
Tzimisce rumbled for a moment, agonized faces oozing in and out of his shapeless mass.
"We have a deal," he said at last. "But before we begin, I must know: what is this Shapeshifter's name?"
Nyarlathotep's face split into a hideous grin.
"Dipper Pines," he replied.
A/N: This chapter's soundtrack choice is Attack from Final Fantasy X.
Up next...
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