(It's basically still Monday night, yeah?)

Wow. It's officially been one year to the day since I started this story.

...Yeah. Cool. Um, that's an average of a chapter and a half every month. That's not fast.

I really, honestly mean it when I say I'm sorry about that. But we're almost done, guys. I'm gonna try to finish this before Season 2 starts at the beginning of August, so that gives us about two and a half weeks. I don't see more than four or five chapters to bring this story to a close.

So, regretfully, I'm about to do a Bad Thing. I am, in fact, going to rush this story.

I know that's not a good idea. I know the chapters might be worse than I'd like. But I also know that this story has lost a lot of steam, and my own laziness has gotten in the way quite a few times. A bunch of fast chapters might be what I need to get back in the game. I hope.

I don't think this ending is something that can sit for a few months in the back of my head, and then be totally fine once I get around to it. I need to write it, and I need to write it fast.

Thanks for bearing with me.

[]

The bus pulls away, leaving nothing but a dust cloud bigger than either of us. It's also slowly covering both of our heads.

Mabel gags, throwing down her backpack and grasping her throat dramatically. "Eurgh, Dipper! It's over for me, man! Save yourself!" I roll my eyes, which she takes as an opportunity to continue. "Wait, get rid of that dumb idea. How 'bout you go up to that freaky-looking house and find something to cure my dirt-tongue-this-sucks disease?"

The duffel bag digs into my shoulders, so I heft it up. "Like water?"

"Psh, water doesn't cure stuff, dorkus." She pauses, looking up at the building with wide eyes. "Whoa, Dip! Just had a wicked thought! What if this is the place?"

I frown. "What? No, that- that can't be right." Pulling a piece of paper from my jacket pocket, I scan the written instructions. "It's supposed to be a store. This is more like a, um..."

"Shack?"

"Yeah, let's go with that." I slap my forehead when Mabel, giggling, points to the word 'Shack' on top of the building in giant letters. "Huh. Don't know how I missed that."

She shrugs. "Yeah, but I'm bored talking about this, so let's go see what's up!" Starting forward, she nearly trips over a giant tree root, but catches her balance just in time. "Whoa! Ha, I think I'm gonna like this place!"

I can't quite keep the worried tone out of my voice. "Mabel, are you sure this is it? Maybe we should wait to see if another bus shows up, going somewhere else. Or what if we didn't even get off at the right stop? Or-"

Frustrated, she gives a half-scowl and flips her head back. "Raah, help me, I'm dying of overreacting brother. Don't be such a worryweasel, man!"

With a cackle, she runs down the dusty road. I sigh, then switch the bag over to my other arm.

I guess I thought it would be... different. Like when we finally got here, I'd feel something new and exciting. Or maybe I'd be bored, dreading a summer of working for some weird relative I've never met. Instead, I don't feel much of anything.

But that's silly, right? I've gotta be overthinking this. "Wait up!"

[]

I see them more and more.

Not Mabel and the others, though. The hoods. 'The Sight', I guess. I don't know if they're really here, staying at the edges of my vision, or if I'm just hallucinating.

Nothing about all this is new, really. I'm walking through the woods, gradually making my way back to town, completely alone. Again. Part of me wants to give in to that, to start feeling sorry for myself and think about how unfair it is. I probably would- but the truth is, I'm really sick of trying to figure out my own thoughts.

So I don't try. Instead, I keep walking, barely noticing the overcast sky. If the Sight are here, they'll stay visible. If not, then I've completely-

...Gone crazy. Yeah. It's possible, but I don't think I care anymore.

I don't know why, but I'm making my way to the Gleeful property. Gideon's probably just stuck in my head after everything yesterday, but I don't have any other ideas, so I stay on the road, trying to keep my head clear of anything except the next step in the mystery.

What do I know? I try to think over the clues, but the lack of sleep must be getting to me, because all I can picture is the hooded figure saying, "The name."

A tree branch shifts in the wind, and I see one of them. Moving towards me. Gone just as fast, because there was never anything there.

The name.

Before I know it, I'm nearing the edge of Gideon's lawn, where we first picked him up. Just past his house, now stationed in a small copse of trees, is the infamous Tent of Telepathy. For a second, memories flood back- before any of this, back when Mabel and I thought it might be fun to go see the psychic show.

Before Gideon hated us. And it all started when we walked in that stupid tent, with the bright, colorful sides and the creepy eye staring out from the top, and-

Wait.

I'm running before my brain makes the connection. The name.

The book said something about 'The Eye'. If that's the name, then... And here, the very place where I've seen Gideon use magic. Now that I know he started all this, it almost makes too much sense.

I shove through the heavy curtain covering the entrance. I'm looking around, but there's nothing but emptiness- an empty stage, empty chairs, a whole world completely devoid of any life. Any movement. After seeing the spectacle of Gideon's shows, it's like a ghost town.

But it was the name. Something has to be here. I keep thinking that, darting between pulpits and benches, eventually saying it out loud while I look. "Something has to be here. Something has to be here."

Nothing moves. There should be birds outside, or bugs in the Tent itself, or some kind of noise, but it's silent. Like the entire world's stopped except me. I tell myself I'm desperately searching, not resting until I find a clue, but part of me knows there's nothing here. I can't even find the energy to hope I'm wrong.

The truth is, I know there's nothing.

I stumble over an uneven patch of the ground, and when I painfully land on my knees, I blink and put my hands on the dirt too. Exhaustion pulls at the edges of my thinking, and I can barely focus on-

-on this. The... the clue. Right.

My eyes close, just for a moment. Open again. Tired, old, rehashed lines start making their way through my mind again.

I failed again. I'm alone. There's no way forward. I can't do this.

Sleep drives every thought away.