Here were the Weiss twins as Wendy had never seen them before: uncomfortable, on edge, and deathly quiet. Their tension flowed right to her in the back seat of the Audi. "Guys, come on. What's up?" she asked for the third time.

Summer pointed over her shoulder at the wooden box occupying the seat to her left, but said nothing.

The redhead looked over at it, then into it. The plushie was right in the center, bouncing gently with the bumps in the road. "Oh, well... yeah. I'm still freaked out about that too."

"She's singing to us," Winter said. "Like the magic in the hospital. No words. Just fear and pain."

"...wow. Now I'm depressed and grossed out."

Efforts to reach Preston Northwest proved fruitless; before long Winter pulled into their driveway as her sister kept trying. A person sitting on the front steps caught her eye. "Who is that?"

Wendy looked out the window. "Oh, dude. That's Tambry!" She got out and walked over as the other girl rose to do the same. "What's up, man?"

"Could ask you the same," she replied, barely looking up from her phone. "Hold on. I have to text the guys and tell them you're still alive and just ignoring us."

Wendy laughed awkwardly as the twins arrived. "Oh, heh. Uh, about that..."

Tambry stared at her friend for a moment before grinning strangely. "Something weird going on? I know the feeling."

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

The purple-haired girl's attention went to Winter and Summer. "I saw some weird junk last night. And some weird guys. They told me to talk to you about it," she said, looking up at the twins. "Don't ask me why."

"People in red robes?" Summer's brow furrowed when Tambry nodded. "This isn't a good time. I'm sorry."

"No worries, yo. I got this," Wendy said, nodding for the other teenager to follow. "Come on, let's walk around and annoy rich people by stepping on their lawns. You can talk to me while we run from the cops."

She rolled her eyes with a faint smirk. "Good god, Corduroy. It doesn't take much to entertain you, does it?"

Winter, brow cocked, watched them walk away. "Well then."

"Let them talk. Now we can think out loud." Summer led her into the house, carrying the box full of nightmares. "We have to help her, but where do we even start?"

She was already standing in her thoughtful, arms-folded pose. "Good question. Why would that much magic seek out one person? What was special about her?"

"That isn't all." Dropping the box on the couch, the red-eyed woman joined her in contemplation. "How did she survive for so long? Was it that magic? If that's the case, I wonder if we actually need sleep or water at all."

"And those creatures..." Winter actually shuddered at the thought. "I still don't understand why didn't we feel anything until I changed her." The blue-eyed woman was suddenly on her own phone, but not to call for Preston. Instead, her fingers danced over the screen as she searched the internet.

"What?" Summer gave her a moment to do whatever it was she was doing, then she grew impatient. "Sister?" Her curiosity increased when the box started to float under Winter's urging.

"I wonder... let's see if I can answer our last question first." She snapped her fingers. The wooden box became a container made of of human bone, complete with a lid. She didn't need the gruesome container long; the moment the lid was on the phantom choir was silenced. "I see now."

"Do explain."

"Magic usually hides in blood, but... if it's fearful of changing too much it might try to hide in something harder. Something more stable – like bone. Stone and bone both have mineral content." Winter returned the box to its original form and frowned as the noiseless sound burst forth again.

"Hmm... but we can feel it at home through rock just fine."

"Yes. But we can't rule out that this magic may have adapted to its new surroundings to minimize the damage it causes," Winter advised as she changed the box to a granite one, again with a lid. The soundless songs faded once more. "Mm. Now I want to know why she contained so much."

"Oh, I have a theory," she muttered, fists clenched in anger. "I would like to hope that particular kind of insanity is limited to our world."

No clarification was needed; her dark body language was more than enough to deliver the point. "Power appeals to everyone. As does control. It's possible," Winter admitted. "If not probable." Her eyes darted over as Summer's phone emitted a chime.

Fishing the thing from her skirt proved to be a challenge that lasted a few seconds. "Finally, it's Preston. Wait. A text message?" Reading it made her groan. "He's in a board meeting. Why should I care? We're more important."

"Give me that." Winter took her phone and fired back a reply. "There. If that doesn't get his attention, I'm not sure what will."

"Oh? What did you say?"

A smile bent her lips as she returned the device. "I said I'd figure out an economic reason to pay attention to us if he gives me too long to think about it."

Summer covered her mouth and giggled. "Good idea. Hit him where it hurts."

Winter gave back the phone with a small, but wry grin. "Mm. I suppose we should go make sure Wendy and her friend don't actually get arrested."

For a while, though, it seemed not to hurt Preston at all. The twins were left waiting on their porch and watching the day soldier on with no response. A few minutes after their vigil began, Wendy and Tambry returned. "Dude, will you put that phone down for five minutes?" Wendy demanded with a hand on her hip. "World's out here, man."

"Status update: Wendy sounds like my mother."

"Hey!"

Their chat died when they drew too close to the women sitting on the steps. Tambry did put away her phone, but was left with only awkward glances to greet the twins. "Run out of rich people to bother?" Summer asked cheerfully.

Wendy shrugged as she absentmindedly looked up the road. "Nobody was even home. What a waste. Uh... Tambers, you really need to tell them what you told me."

Now it was the dark-skinned girl with her hands on her hips. "I swear you call me that just to make me mad."

"It took you this long to figure it out?"

"Get to the point, please," Winter directed them, trying to wrap her bluntness in a velvet tone.

It still made Tambry uneasy. "Yeah, fine. Here." She produced her phone, and a few taps later had a picture to show the twins. "I saw it in the woods last night. Freaked me out enough to tell mom." On the screen was a dark, blurry picture of the forest at night. It featured at left-center a golden, vaguely triangular smear moving from right to left. "I felt like something had been watching me when I was out there with Nate and Lee and Thompson. Before we left I turned around, saw a light and took that picture. Then I texted mom. When I got home the freaks in the robes were waiting on me."

"Is this who I think it is?" Summer muttered as she stared at the image. "I thought... hmm."

"So, like, it's a ghost? Is that why they said to come to you?"

The red-eyed woman's face screwed up for an instant. "Not exactly. Did anyone try to wipe your memory of the event?"

"Well, yeah," Tambry confirmed, shifting uncomfortably on her feet. "I told 'em no way. I didn't want that weird thing anywhere near my head. They backed off."

Winter tilted her head a bit. "At least they took our advice."

"Yeah, better late than never I guess," Wendy grumbled.

Tambry eyed them all with a frown. "You seem to know what's up. Anyone want to clue me in?"

All eyes went to her as the group decided who would be their spokeswoman. "I'm fairly certain what you've seen is a creature called Bill Cipher," Winter finally said. "It worries me that you saw him while you were awake."

"I'm with you there," Wendy said with a nervous chuckle. "So much for dream demon."

Tambry's frustration began to boil over. "What are you talking—you know what, forget it. I'm going home. None of you are making any sense."

The redhead rubbed at the back of her neck and sighed. "It only gets worse from here, trust me."

Before Summer could chime in again, her phone did. She found a new text from Preston. "He gave me a phone number," she said to her sister while the teens started to talk – then argue about what Tambry should do. "I'll try it."

She eventually got a familiar voice on the other end. "I don't know how you got this number, but..."

"Colonel Greer? It's Summer Weiss."

That changed her tune in a hurry. "Huh? Miss Weiss, this isn't a secure line... oh lord. Something terrible happened, didn't it?"

"We'd like to meet with you as soon as possible, that's all," she replied, deciding to remain vague.

"Right. I'm holed up with the National Guard at Portland International, so it might take me a couple of hours to get out there."

Summer cocked a brow in surprise. "You're coming now?"

"You bet! I'll explain when I get there. Now, excuse me while I commandeer something with wings. See you when I see you." And then she hung up.

"Now we're getting somewhere," Summer said, staring at her phone for a moment. With that taken care of, the twins' focus went to Tambry and Wendy. "Excuse me, but can you get a ride home?"

"My mom's already on the way," Tambry replied before glaring at the redhead. "Whatever this is, leave me out of it."

There was no way Wendy would let it go that easily. "You can't just run!" she insisted. "Don't you think it's better to face it head on?"

Winter rose and cleared her throat to snuff out the argument. "Let her do what she wants. Not all of them will be willing to fight," she stated flatly.

Tambry took this as an insult and tensed up. "What is that supposed to me—whatever. What. Ever." A car coming up the street drew their attention. "That's her. I'm out." Winter noticed it first, then Summer; the female member of the Society they'd met last night was in the driver's seat.

Wendy had no idea what they were staring at. "Heh, uh... did I miss something?" she asked, scratching her hair awkwardly.

Stan Pines was on guard, brandishing a shotgun as he patrolled the house. Mabel and Dipper were finally asleep. He wanted to ensure nothing would wake them up. Thinking about the things that had been buried under the shack for so long made him shudder – especially the white insects. "Yeesh. I don't think the pest control guy covers those." This was part of the reason for his nervousness; if those creatures had come from outside the cave, they could be anywhere underground. Hundreds could be crawling under his feet right now. Thousands. "Gah! No! You're supposed to be reassuring, little voice that lives in my head!"

So agitated, every bump and noise was suddenly one of the horrible creatures coming to eat him, the kids, or Soos. Every sound and shadow warranted his aiming of the gun. A few minutes of this level of vigilance left him exhausted. "I am literally too old for this crap. Soos!"

The handyman wandered out of the kitchen and looked around before coming over. "What's up, Mister Pines? Decided to give me a piece too? Dude, I am completely ready to pack heat in the name of-"

"Are you nuts? I'd feel safer telling the truth on my income tax forms than letting you have a firearm. No, no, I want you to get upstairs and keep an eye on the kids. I need to sit for a minute."

"On second thought, maybe that's probably safer for everyone involved. You got it." Off he went, humming an inane little tune as he moved up the stairs. Stan fell into his recliner with a sigh and carefully set the shotgun aside. Within moments he was ready to drift off, but adrenaline kept him at least somewhat alert.

Wanna make a deal, Mackerel?

It was a whisper that came from every direction. Startled, the old man sat up and scanned the living room. "Huh? What? Who said—Bill," he realized, eyes narrowing. "Get lost, you one-eyed freak show."

Hahaha! I know something you don't, fossil.

Growling lowly, Stan got up and went in search of the demon. "If you're gonna call me names, at least show yourself so I can make fun of you! You... you... poorly constructed basic shape!"

Aw, now you've gone and hurt my feelings. Hey, is it just me or does it seem like Shooting Star is in a bad place right now? Wouldn't it be a shame if somebody pushed her over the edge?

"Who?" he asked, face going blank. "Shooting Star? Are the hippies back in town for the Wood Stick festival again or something?"

Bill popped into sight, arms crossed and glaring. "Shooting Star! You know, the little female flesh bucket with the sweaters and the matchmaking and the weird mole on her-"

"Mabel!" Stan lunged at the triangle, who simply phased out and appeared behind him. "Stand—I mean float still! What do you want with her?!"

"Hah! Rage is fun. It's probably, I dunno, my second favorite human emotion. Fear is first. No, no, wait. Suffering is first, fear is second, rage is third. Yeah. Third." Bill's eye smiled as he watched Stan's anger mount. "I'm just saying you think you know something that's not true. And it amuses me."

"Oh, really? What, is the universe a hologram?"

"Whoa, whoa, it's not like that – it's still gonna be fun, though. Let's see how long it takes you to find out!"

Before things could flare up again, Soos poked his head in the doorway. "Hey, Mister Pines?" He stared at the golden triangle and lost his train of thought. "Oh, hey Bill. What's up? Been a while."

"The only thing that's up around here is this guy's blood pressure!" Bill produced his own rimshot while twirling his cane. "Don't mind me! You two have your little chat. I'll be waiting."

Stan glanced back over his shoulder. "Soos, this better be important."

"Well, uh..." he began, tugging at his collar. "I checked in on the little guys. They kinda weren't there. So I went outside to look for 'em and noticed the Mystery Cart is gone. Kinda just puttin' two and two together here."

"Wh—Soos! You had one job!" he exclaimed, turning to face the handyman. Bill's gleeful chuckling went ignored. "Get my keys! Mabel's not in her right mind and – I mean I love the boy to death but sometimes Dipper's got about as much backbone as a slug. Who knows what she might rope him into?"

"Ha! I get it. Slugs are invertebrates."

Both con-man and dream demon stared at him blankly. "Sterling job there, Question Mark," the latter stated. "Look, let's save what little time you mortals have and cut to the chase. I need a corporeal being to help me out here. Let's make a deal."

Stan glared daggers at him. "Help you with what?"

"I want you to talk to those weirdo friends of yours. You know, the ones that live up on the hill. Be my representative."

Stan straightened his tie and tried to look imposing. A glimmer was in his eyes as he spoke. "Talk to 'em yourself, jerk. You're everywhere. What do you need me for?"

Bill did almost exactly the same thing, except his bowtie adjusted itself. "Ugh, I knew you'd say that. Look, I'm a decent, hard-working entity that just wants to get by in this crazy physical plane. Buuuuut, since you have no idea where the little humans are, I could arrange for them to... I don't know, fall in a hole somewhere and starve to death. Maybe show them the meaning of existence and watch their brains explode. Literally! Or you could help me, and I'll guarantee they get back here completely safe." He extended his hand, which was now sheathed in blue flame. "Seems like a bargain to me. Then again I really don't know what safety is worth. Or what money is."

Stan, arms folded, turned his back on the demon. "You know where Winter and Summer live. Go talk to them yourself."

"You're playing with fire, Mackerel!" Bill stared him down, his body turning slightly orange. "Because... I can! I can do that. Myself. That talking thing. With my mou—I don't have one of those. You get my point."

"So, go do it. Besides, I know something you don't. I mean, I know something you don't know I know." Now the demon and Soos were staring at him in confusion. "I used too many knows."

"Get to the point, blood bucket!"

Stan grinned wide. "If you wanted to do something to those kids, you coulda done it here. Unless somebody summoned you, you're useless."

Bill swelled, turning red with fury. "Useless?! I'll show you useless, you..." he fell silent, still red and massive but with an oddly pouty expression. "Shut up."

"Ha! What's the matter, triangle boy?!"

With a snarl, Bill vanished in a puff of white, growling all the way. Before the cloud faded fully, they heard a whispered "I don't wanna do this. Those freaks are about as creepy as me..."

Stan doffed his fez and tried to figure out what had just happened. "Well, that was... something."

"I wonder why he won't talk to 'em himself?" Soos said with a vacant smile.

"Yeah. You know what? I'm halfway tempted to summon him, put him in a room with those two, and see what happens." Stan put his hat back on and started off. "Now, we got kids to find. Come on. And find my phone! Maybe one of 'em took theirs." He suddenly stopped and looked at the handyman. "Actually, find your phone. I, uh, don't know how to use mine. Technology frightens my cold, dead heart."

Dipper's brilliant idea to get away from it all appeared to be backfiring as the oppressive summer heat built up. Mabel had been sitting in silence for two hours, hugging her knees and staring at a place they barely knew existed until he looked it up: Gravity Falls Airport. To call it a complex would have been generous; it consisted of a tiny terminal, a dinky control tower and five hangars on the opposite side of the runway from the hill on which they sat. In fact, the oddly long runway was the most notable part of the whole place. Since they'd arrived, exactly one plane had taken off and two had landed, all of which were small, twin- or single-engine prop planes. While he looked up into the branches of the tree they were under, another prop plane was getting ready to depart. "Maybe we should move to a cooler spot?" he asked, shielding his eyes against the sun.

Mabel wouldn't reply – or even look at him.

So he looked at her, eyes loaded with worry. "Mabel? You're going to fry. Let's go find a better tree."

"Do you remember the good old days?"

His brow furrowed. "What? We're 12. I don't think we get to use that phrase."

She blew his quip off and kept going. "I mean the days when it was just you and me and Soos fighting dinosaurs and getting kidnapped and traveling through time and being able to come back home and laugh about it afterward."

"We—yeah, but that was like, three weeks ago." The words rang hollow as he stared across the airport's little dent in the forested landscape. "It feels like forever."

Her body tensed up. "Sure does." After a brief pause, her face contorted. "Why did she start screaming when the bugs were gone? I thought that would make things better."

Dipper didn't want to replay that image again. "I don't know."

"And if the bugs had to dig to get in there, they weren't always around."

"Where are you going with this?" he asked, hands jammed into his pockets.

At last she looked at him, eyes wide with terror. "How long was she there? What if—what if she was trapped in that cage for thirty years, just... screaming? Why didn't she die? Was it the magic? Is it hurting her? Did... did she at least get to sleep?"

"I..." He covered his face with a hand and tried to stop trembling. "Dude. Holy crap. I didn't think about it like that." A light bulb went off. "Wait. It's okay now. She's with Summer and Winter. If anyone can help her, it's them."

Thankfully, this seemed to help her perk up a little. "Yeah. Yeah! It still blows, though."

"Sure it does. But we found her. It's gonna get better now. Somehow." Dipper set their talk aside when he saw a shiny glob of red travel up the highway beyond the airport. It soon came to a halt in the small parking lot. As its occupants emerged, he squinted through the heat haze. "Huh, that green dot with red hair looks—Wendy!" he exclaimed while standing up. "And the twins! What are they doing here?"

Mabel got to her feet as well, albeit a little slower. "Huh. What if Grunkle Stan or Soos sent 'em to look for us?"

"They had no idea where we were going. Something else is up. Come on."

Getting to them was a challenge, complicated by the vast fenced-off space around the runway. Ten minutes of walking down one hill and up another left them breathless and sweaty – and worse still, when they got to the lot their friends were nowhere to be seen. "I'm gonna die!" Mabel complained, fanning herself with the collar of her sweater.

Dipper wheezed "Terminal! Terminal!" in reply, doing the same with his hat.

They burst into the building and were slammed by a wall of cold air, taking a moment to soak it in and recover before looking around. Winter, Summer, and Wendy were on the other side, looking out the glass rear facade. The redhead, who was on someone's phone, noticed them first. "Hey, we found 'em. Well, I mean they found us, kinda. Nah. They're fine. Okay, I'll tell 'em. Later." She hung up, handed the phone back to Summer, and smiled down at the kids. "Stan's kinda mad that you just ran off, you know?"

"I know, I'm sorry," Dipper replied sheepishly. "Mabel was freaking out about the woman we found. She still is. I thought some time out here might help her clear her head."

"It didn't," she said with a sigh. "Just made it easier to think about." She next pinned down the twins with an adamant stare. "Are you guys gonna help her?"

Summer whispered into her sister's ear, causing a blank look as Winter crossed her arms lightly. Suddenly, she walked over and dropped to a knee, then gave Mabel a hug.

She only returned it after the shock wore off. "Whoa. Uh, hey there."

"Helping her is part of the reason we're here," the blue-eyed woman said.

"Hey, guys?" Wendy called. "Plane's comin' in." A small, twin-engine jet alighted on the runway as they came over to watch. It looked like any of the other general aviation aircraft parked near the hangars – except for the United States flag on its tail. It came to a stop in front of the hangar nearest the terminal and deployed air stairs from its left side. Three people disembarked and approached.

Colonel Greer lead them into the terminal. Unlike the last two times the identical twins had seen her, she was in her dark blue Army Service Uniform – and looked to be suffering for it. "I thought Iraq was hot!" she complained, doffing her beret. "At least the desert was dry." With her were two imposing male soldiers with bands around their left arms that read "MP". Mabel was visibly nervous in their presence. "Secure the building," she said, motioning to them. "No one in, no one out. If somebody has to come in, signal me through the front door and give them an escort." They departed with a quick "yes ma'am" as she regarded the group. "Didn't think you were bringing a posse."

"They're just as much a part of this as we are," Summer replied with a smile. "And if you think you're going to deny them a chance to listen, you are wrong. Shall we sit?"

There weren't many chairs to use. Both sets of twins and Wendy occupied one row of chairs, while Greer got the opposite row all to herself. "I needed to come out here to do some housekeeping with you two anyway, but we'll get to that. What's going on?"

"Projects Briathos and Bellissima," Winter stated, her eyes firmly on the Colonel. "We know about them. What do you know?"

Greer shed her beret again and looked out the rear of the terminal with a sigh. "I've been briefed about them. Briathos is active. It's classified top secret and a special access program. Not even the President has clearance to know details. If you want that info, I'll need to ask Admiral McKay back in Washington. Bellissima, on the other hand..." Her nose crinkled up as she fell silent.

"I don't like the look on your face," Mabel noted grimly. "Makes me wanna leave. I think I wanna leave anyway."

"Maybe that's a good idea. I don't know if I can trust a bunch of kids with information like this."

"If they want to stay, they can stay," a stoic Winter informed her. "We trust them. That should be good enough. And if nothing else, Wendy has a physical reason to hear this."

"Yeah buddy," she droned sadly, waving her right hand. "I'm a wizard now! Wooooo."

Greer plopped her beret back on and frowned. "Not surprised. 'Apollyon' and 'containable' aren't two words I'd use in the same sentence. I wonder how many generations we managed to fuck up with this disaster." Dipper's wince made her blink. "Oh, pardon me. Uh... anyway, Bellissima was an offshoot of Project Plowshare, which started back in 1961. Wilhelm Seifert's, uh, activities, were overseen by people in that operation."

"We know what he did, don't use oofs... iffumissums... Dipper, help me," Mabel demanded, her arms crossed tightly.

"Euphemisms."

"Thank you."

Greer smiled just a little at their exchange. "Fair enough. Anyway, Wilhelm cracked and turned himself in in '63. He couldn't handle the secret anymore, I guess. Can't blame him – it would drive me insane too. After that, Plowshare kept going in two forms: the public one, and Bellissima, which got swept even further under the rug. Both produced research meant to contain the spread of magic."

"Well, at least I'm not the only one freaking out about that," Dipper said, pinching his nose. "What were they gonna do?"

"You don't wanna know."

"Some of us do," Summer advised harshly. "We're not going to make you stay, though," she said to Wendy and the Pines, using a much kinder tone. Wendy just shrugged, not even bothering to adjust her slouched posture.

"I'm out," Mabel said, throwing up her hands and standing. A vending machine near the front attracted her gaze. "I need a drink." She walked away, but stopped and looked back when Dipper didn't follow. "Uh, bro? You comin'?"

"One of us should hear this," he said, shaking his head. "Grab me a soda though, huh? I'm stupid thirsty." Her eyes drilled through his soul, causing him to tremble. "What? You need a break from this stuff. I'll deal with it for a minute."

"Need a break? So do y-" Her mind and throat froze up – he was right. She did need a break, however small, but somehow it felt like she was sacrificing him. Lacking the strength to argue, she looked away and shuffled on.

"Somebody needs a hug," Greer noted, watching the girl depart. "Plowshare was billed as a study on how to peacefully use nuclear weapons. Some of those shots – nuclear tests, I mean – were us looking for ways to destroy the Apollyon complex. We wanted to see what yield would knock it out without destroying too much of Gravity Falls."

Wendy's arms dropped into her lap with shock. "Wow, man. I don't even know what to say to that."

"I wish I could say I were surprised," Winter said, stiffly perched in her chair. "How much worse was the other idea?"

"Biological containment of local magic via genetic manipulation and testing on wildlife? You tell me."

The air became frigid, but not because the HVAC kicked on again. Summer and Winter, eyes on the tile floor, radiated a silence so sharp and threatening both Dipper and Wendy leaned away from them. It stole their voices with its intensity – and almost stole their breath. Even Colonel Greer found no way to pierce their stillness. "Biological containment of magic," Summer repeated, her voice dripping with venom. Hers were the only words said for several moments.

"What housekeeping?" Winter finally asked after a few breaths so deep they must have hurt her lungs.

Greer took the out, shifting uncomfortably. "Uh... fine. Word is you took out entity 202 last night. That's what the Pentagon wants. They want you to neutralize the anomalies around Gravity Falls and deal with the magic however you see fit."

"Entity 202?" Dipper asked himself lowly. After some focus, he realized he'd seen that phrase on the island head monster's page in the journal. "Wait a second..."

Summer continued to stare into the blue linoleum. Her lips were curled. "And if we refuse?"

"I mean, we can't make you do anything. I sure ain't gonna try. I'll be damned if I'm the one that gets humanity killed because I pissed you off and caused an invasion."

"We will consider it," Winter stated as she stood up. "If there is nothing else, I'd like to take my sister home."

The hint was too clear to be missed. Greer departed the terminal after rounding up the MPs, leaving Dipper and Wendy to try and piece together what had just happened – without Mabel, who continued to hide near the vending machine. "Dude. Every time I think this crap can't get any worse," the redhead mumbled with a sigh. "You okay up there?"

Winter stood extremely close to Summer, her stance protective. "Dipper, please go get Mabel." Only when he nodded and left did she answer Wendy's question. "No," she said, staring at Greer's plane as it moved past on the taxiway. Her eyes narrowed to slits. "Because this is beginning to seem all too familiar to us."