Prologue: ?
It's coming.
The next nightfall is the worst one yet. Distant sounds echo, sending me into a constant state of paranoia. Footsteps and forest ambience blend into one. I'm a man. I'm an adult man, and I'm brought trembling in the darkness.
You cannot fear the darkness, my brother once told me. You can only fear what is in it.
The fields have changed, but in a terrible way. Instead of low bushels of wheat, there are sunflowers, dead and enormous, blocking out the last scraps of moonlight. The edges are awash with thorny hedgerows, and the only way is through the plants, into blindness.
Something is here. I can feel it.
The wind gathers. I push onwards, focusing on my bearings. Following the signs. Ignoring my pulsing heart and rasping breath.
At once, a spiral of crows billows from the field, screaming and complaining. Their cries merge into one cacophony of noise. From the shadows, there emerges a figure, followed by another. And another. And another.
I stagger backwards. At first, they appear stationary, but then they move, all in unison. Sunflowers disappear beneath their feet. There are groans, yells, screams.
They're coming.
But someone grabs my arm.
"Run!"
I'm lifted from my feet, and all at once, we're charging. Something bellows behind us, burning with anguish, but I'm dragged onwards, through plants and dirt. The crows yell, swarming through the sky. We burst from the sunflowers, my accomplice jumping to the latch of a great iron gate. On the other side is a pointed silhouette, a brick wall, a church — a village. The shouts from behind get louder and louder and louder...
The gate flies open. I'm pulled through, and there's a mighty slam as it shuts behind us. The figures hurl themselves at it, gnawing at the iron, grotesque and ragged, but a shotgun is raised and in four quick bursts, they're gone.
I gasp for breath on the other side, trying to make out my new surroundings. My rescuer grips me firmly by the wrist. His voice is dry, his figure broad and young, and he stashes his smoking shotgun back in his pocket.
"Come. Quick. It's not safe out here."
"What were they?"
"It's the dead," he says. "The dead are alive."
.
.
.
~~o00o~~
Chapter 14: Calm As You
(Lucas)
~~o00o~~
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.
.
I snatch the newspaper away.
Onett declares war on Tazmily!
I can hardly feel Ness's hand, gripping vice-like on my own. All sorts of emotions hit me, anger, fear, guilt. Denial. Onett is a mining city, they don't have factories for building weapons. Despair. Porky will have given them everything they need.
Generous Porky Minch supplies weapons to the Onett First Brigade!
As if I needed proof. I fall back against the wall, desperately trying to hold back the wave. The dreams of showing Ness my home are all disappearing at once, and I reach out, trying to grab onto them, but I only strike Ness in the face.
"Sorry!" I cry, as Ness rubs his nose with surprise.
But Ness sits next to me. He doesn't have to say anything, and I desperately cling to his arm. Part of me scolds myself for behaving like a child, this is not something I can control, but perhaps that makes it all the worse.
"It's awful," Ness mutters.
"I know," I say bitterly, and I have to soften myself. "Sorry."
"It's all right," Ness says. He doesn't go anywhere.
"Mother's grave," I manage. "It's there, and - and what happens if…"
I fall short, feeling my face heating. Ness doesn't reply, he only puts his hand to my back.
"Is something the matter?" Shulk's voice appears out of nowhere. "Has there been an incident?"
"Onett declared war on Tazmily," Ness explains. "Don't worry, we're fine."
"That does seem to have occurred..." Shulk gives a thoughtful nod. "I'm supposing you are afraid of being mercilessly killed by rogue Tazmily forces?" He continues without waiting for an answer. "During the many other wars this city has endured, artists hid away and painted to avoid conscription. It can be a really inspiring muse! So, don't you worry, Lucas, nobody would attack the school. It's all perfectly safe, and the professors will try their very best to keep it that way."
"Thank you, Professor," I just about say, even though his rambles don't help one bit.
"Don't mention it." Shulk beams. "Always happy to help."
I'm quiet as Ness leads me to our canvases. Perhaps the soldiers will see how beautiful Tazmily is, and perhaps they'll call off the attack. As if. This city is full of the worst of the worst, the darkest sins and vices. Onett City shows no mercy.
I cannot bring myself to paint properly. Each time I lift my brush, I want to cover everything in black paint. Instead, I survey the room. Nana seems to be painting a pineapple and, of course, it looks incredible. I look up at what I've created so far, a big mess of blue splatters. I sigh. It's okay. Perhaps it's the night-time, perhaps it's the ocean.
War.
My hand slips. A great splodge of black slaps itself onto the canvas. Come on, Lucas. Don't think about Tazmily. Think about the art! I continue, trying to blend the darkness in. Perhaps it could become a galactic metaphor, perhaps it's just a happy accident. Now I'm painting some happy little stars, and it's becoming the foundation of a happy little solar system. I glance at Ness as I paint our constellation, amici optimi.
Next, I trace the skyline of a village, but my hand keeps slipping, and it's almost as if there are humanoid silhouettes in the way. Grey splodges obscure the church, the barn, and the town hall. It looks vaguely like…
Tazmily.
Burning. Fire. Flood. I clutch my head, sending grey drips down the canvas. They look like dead sunflowers. Tazmily is dying, decayed, the dead alive. So many horrible visions pass by me in a matter of seconds, and I'm forced to sit down.
"Ness?" I say. My voice sounds strengthless, and I find it hard to meet his eyes. "Can I watch you? I cannot... I cannot do this."
"Of course you can," Ness says softly.
Almost immediately, I'm more at ease. Ness seems to be using the war headline as well. He's actually a really good painter, he paints things abstractly, and they always have so much hidden meaning. I don't think I have the imagination to paint the way that he does — sure, I can do realism, but so could anyone, with practice.
His hands are surprisingly pretty as he works the brush. It's not the first time I've noticed this, but it's still an unusual thought to have about one's best friend. He works quickly, nimbly, coloured shapes appearing on the canvas, all somehow coming together into one form. Today's work appears to be geometric, he's come a long way from when I first taught him about transition tones and underlying shades, and honestly, I'm a little bit proud. He's come into his own, and it's wonderful.
When Ness first told me he wanted to do Art, I'd thought he was joking. It turns out his father had tried to make him study Geography, but by some great luck, he'd been able to change. Ness only wanted to do Art to be with me, a sweet notion, but we laughed as we considered Ness's stickman figures and scrawny renditions of buildings. But perhaps we were only laughing because it had been so long, as that had been a strange summer, one full of secrets I won't ever tell. Business with Porky. Business with someone even worse…
I shudder at the memory.
"Ness?" I say, keen to divert my train of thought.
"Yes?" He completes a triangle, staring intently at the canvas. I wonder if this is how I look when I'm thinking.
"What are you painting?" I ask.
He shrugs, waving airily at his piece. "I just wanted to make something pretty — it's not too bad, is it?"
"It's wonderful." I smile. "Really pretty."
"No, you are," he says, and I redden at his words.
"Ness!?"
"No, you are wonderful!" He backtracks suddenly, alarmed. "You are wonderful — not pretty — but you are pretty — but — agh — no! You know what I mean!"
"Thank you, Ness." I hug him, suddenly filled with the foreign desire to giggle. "I appreciate it."
"It's — I. It's no problem," Ness says, flustered. I smile. I like it when he's embarrassed, it's funny. I feel slightly mean when I think that, but it's his fault for being a goof.
"What was Tazmily like?" Ness asks, keen to change the subject. "What is your fondest memory of it?"
"That's a good question," I say, sitting back down.
The morning of the fifth of July was always my favourite. Perhaps that's because it was my birthday, or perhaps because it was the first day of the Sunflower Harvest. I liked to draw, and those drawings were mostly of the sunflowers, bundles that Mother had brought in after a hot day's work making oil. She'd sell them at the market the next day. My sixth birthday is the clearest in my mind, I remember springing out of bed at sunrise, throwing open the curtains to watch the colourful fields, Butch's pigs plodding down the lane, and Tessie mixing beer in her inn's back garden. Claus leapt up at some point, giddy with delight, and we'd scrambled down the stairs, desperate to be the first to see our presents. Mother had been there, cooking omelettes, my favourite, and so had Father, who'd ruffled our hair and grinned as though he had no care in the world.
"Happy birthday!" Claus had shouted, nearly crashing into the presents. "We're six! That's so old! But I'm still taller!"
"I'll catch up!" I'd promised, laughing. There were gifts from all kinds of people, from Duster, from Fuel and Lighter, from the many people who knew me in Tazmily. From there, I don't remember much, but I know it had been a wonderful day. The sort of day I could only have with my family.
"It sounds lovely," Ness says, practically glowing. I'd forgotten he was there. "It sounds like the greatest place in the world."
I smile. It's not a memory I treat myself with often. Fuel, Lighter, Duster, it's been ages since I've thought about names like those. But nostalgia is quickly replaced with worry. I hope they're clever enough to get away.
The clocktower rings for the lesson's end, and Ness grimaces at me. "Detention time…"
Three hours later, we walk out of the detention room, exhausted.
"That wasn't too bad," Ness says, bumping me on the shoulder.
"It was awful," I say. "I wrote I must not be richer than Wario over a thousand times. I want death."
"Aw, c'mon," Ness says, ruffling my hair, but my head throbs as Ness accidentally touches where I hit it in the river. The wounds seem to be healing, but they're still irritating, a source of much muddlement, which is no good for solving a mystery. Not that we're supposed to be solving it anymore, of course, but no matter how hard I try, my subconscious intends to brood on it day and night.
At least the detention wasn't too bad, though the amount of free time I'd had to dwell on Tazmily hadn't been enjoyable. Wario did not hurt me, which was something I'd been afraid of. But I feel a slight twinge of nerves, remembering Bowser is still searching for me and Ness to punish us. It's lucky we haven't been caught yet.
We find the others in the games room.
"Ah! You have served your dues," Toon Link says. "How nice to see you again."
"Hello." Ness flops down onto an armchair, and I join him.
"You missed dinner," Red says.
Ness shrugs. "I expected as much."
"Aren't you hungry?"
"Not particularly."
"Hmm," Villager says, but he doesn't say anything more.
"Howcome you got away without detention?" Ness points at Toon Link suddenly. "You gave one of them a broken arm."
"I don't know," Toon Link says. "Perhaps Headmaster Hand has a personal vendetta against you."
"I wouldn't be surprised. Meta Knight and Olimar got away with it too," Ness says, balling his hands into fists. "Though, I did start an argument with the Headmaster..."
"About what?"
Ness and I exchange a look. One that says it's fine, we can tell them.
"I overheard something," Ness begins, rubbing his fists together. "Something that Ryu said. About disappearances."
"Disappearances?" Toon Link puts down his pool cue.
"Ness and I have been investigating them," I say. "Ryu said there are some 'really capable people' on the case, but we're not sure who... we started investigating, but we gave it up for our safety."
"Who has disappeared?" Red asks sharply.
"We don't quite know," Ness says, but there's a touch of doubt in his voice. We haven't seen the Pit twins, Popo, or even Mega Man in days.
"No wonder you've been so hysterical," Toon Link says, giving a low whistle.
"This is serious," Villager says gravely. "We need to tell Headmaster Hand. If this is true, we need to go home, 'least 'til they've caught who's doing it."
"I tried telling Headmaster Hand that," Ness says. "Apparently, we cannot, thanks to the virus."
"What!?"
"There's a quarantine," I say. "Nobody's allowed in or out."
"So what do we do?" Red asks bluntly, holding his pool cue like a walking cane.
"Stay out of trouble," Villager decides. "And thank you, Ness, Lucas, for stopping your investigations. This isn't safe, okay? We've already seen that gravestone. Something's happening, and we need no part in it. I'm — none of you are disappearing, okay?"
"No more forest trips?" Toon Link asks. "That's no fun."
"Neither is being kidnapped." Villager gives him a severe look. "I don't want anyone hurt."
There's an uncomfortable silence. No doubt everyone is trying to process this new information. I let Ness pull me a little closer to him.
"Well," Toon Link says, standing, placing a hand on Ness's shoulder. "After that jolly conversation, it's time for us to go to orchestra practice."
"What?" I stare. "I thought it was weekly."
"It usually is," Toon Link says. "However, so many people missed the last session that Sebastian told me we're having another... Come on!"
I roll my eyes. There's nothing else for it, Sebastian Tute is known for being vicious about attendance. Toon Link leads us away, shutting the door behind him.
"All right." He grins. "Where should we start?"
"What?"
"Oh, come on, we're not actually going to Orchestra. We've got to investigate and find out what is happening."
I glance at Ness, who glances back. "Then why did you lie?"
"Villager wouldn't approve," Toon Link says. "He's too cautious. I blame Red's influence. Anywhere, where are we gonna start?"
"I think Villager might be right to be cautious," I mumble. Ness nods with agreement.
"Oh, come on!" Toon Link rolls his eyes. "Don't be so paranoid. It'll be fine."
But Ness grips my hand. "We agreed to stop thinking about it. If Lucas doesn't want to investigate, he doesn't want to investigate, all right?"
"If we don't do anything, who will? Do you want to be skewered by some maniac?"
"What is the matter?" Ness asks. "Why are you so wound up by this?"
"Nothing's the matter! I'm not wound up — I'm only... you know what, it doesn't matter. Don't worry."
"It'll be okay," I say. "The professors will sort it out."
"I know." Toon Link relinquishes, letting out a deep breath. "I just hate standing around when something's happening."
Ness pats Toon Link on the back. He gives a wry smile, and Ness returns it. But we're interrupted by a man with frilly white hair, an intense moustache, and a distinctly fussy suit.
Professor Sebastian Tute.
"Boys!" he squeaks. "It is hereby time for an Orchestral recital. Since many of you missed Wednesday's practice, there is no day to be lost!"
"But it's so late," Toon Link protests.
"Music doesn't follow the rules of time!"
"Yes it does. Haven't you heard of time signatures?"
"Haven't you heard of avant-garde? I will not have any cheek from you ragamuffins! The instruments will not play themselves!"
We're forced to follow him through the corridor. What a coincidence — I'm not ready for an orchestra session now. It's a sleepy day. I've given up trying to find anything good to get out of it. It's not a day for playing the piano, it's a day to admit that things are bad and that it's better to go to bed early. Worry prickles as we enter the music room, hearing the alarming sound of several students tuning their violins. What if forces are marching on Tazmily this very second? What if Father is conscripted into the army?
"Well," Sebastian says shrilly, taking the front of the room. "There is no information on the whereabouts of a few people…"
He's right. Much of the brass section seems to be absent.
"Nonetheless, we will perform to the highest of standards! Today, we will be playing the classical piece Thème de la chaîne Mii!"
I take my position at the grand piano. I haven't heard of this piece before. Most people look puzzled, and Ness fingers his harp in trepidation. Toon Link looks ready to beat all of the percussion instruments to an untimely death. The sheet music is handed out, and, oh no, what is this? The rhythm is wildly irregular.
"How is a flute supposed to play a triad?" someone protests.
"With great skill!" Sebastian counters. "You must take this seriously. Music is the divine art of notes, interwoven to create perfection. You shall play the triad, and you shall play it at once!"
.
.
.
.
.
After several worlds have died and several seasons have passed, we're let out. Villager and Red are playing pool again, and Villager looks quite worn down. He waves.
"How was it?"
"Fine," Ness says. "Sebastian was as dreadful as ever."
"Naturally."
"Yes!" Red pots the black ball. "That's my seventieth win!"
"And my seventieth loss," Villager sighs, chucking the cue on the table. "I'm getting tired."
"Woe is you." Toon Link slings an arm around his shoulders, tumbling down next to him. "Perhaps we should sleep?"
"Perhaps," I say. "Or we could just talk."
"That'd be nice," Villager says.
"About what?" Red asks.
I sit down, comfortably accepting Ness when he wraps his arms around me. It's something we used to be self-conscious about, but one can only be called a sodomite so many times before it loses its meaning.
"Anything you like. What'd you do today?"
But before anyone can answer, Pit and Dark Pit come in, looking about as gleeful as I've ever seen them.
"What is the—"
"Private gathering—?"
I jump away from Ness, trying to be natural. It doesn't work.
"Unusual," Pit says.
"You areunusual," Dark Pit snipes back.
"No, you are!"
"No, you."
"I was born first! Everyone knows you are just an unusual copy!"
"What? No, I was—"
Villager laughs. "You two are about the same person, so you are both unusual."
"All right, mister-no-personality!"
"All right, jesters!"
"If anyone's a jester, it's him!" Dark Pit points to Toon Link.
"Humour helps us to forget the inevitable death of the universe," Toon Link says.
"Why are you two here?" Ness asks.
"Because..."
"...We have a fabulous…"
"...Invitation!"
"An invitation?" Ness repeats.
"Yes! Come, look!"
"What is it an invite to?" I approach them.
"A secret gathering!" Dark Pit cheers.
"Secret gatherings are forbidden," Red huffs. He takes the invite before anyone can protest.
Dearest Pit and Dark Pit,
I am hosting a dinner party! If you enter the passageway I
found behind the boxes in the first cupboard in the main
corridor, and if you travel along it until you find a room with
a suspiciously bright light, you'll find the venue. It's a very
secretive event, and only the most fun people have been
invited, so please, tell nobody...
From: Your secret admirer!
"Well," Red says. "This is leading you to your untimely deaths. Why would you follow this?"
"Who could it be from?" Ness asks.
"We don't know!" Pit says cheerily.
"Exciting, is it not?" Dark Pit adds.
"In those passageways…" Villager says, glancing at us all. "I hope you're not planning on going."
"Part of them caved in," I remember. "They may not have a choice."
But Dark Pit puts his hands together. "You've seen the passageways before? You can show us the route and come with us!"
"I'm just insulted I wasn't invited," Toon Link says distantly. "I'm supposed to be fun..."
"I'm very glad I haven't been invited," Villager says, giving him an exasperated look. "I don't trust it. There've been other disappearances, what if others got this invitation, were lured to that room, and that's where they've been kept?"
"Come on," Dark Pit sighs. "Live a little, Mr boring. You're just scared."
"Yes, come on Villager, that's not very likely, is it?" Toon Link bumps Villager on the arm. "I mean, only the best gatherings are hosted in creepy death-trap passages."
"I thought we agreed not to take risks?"
"Well..." I consider it, trying not to be pessimistic for once. "People have been disappearing at night, not day. So perhaps it's real?"
Toon Link nods. "And anyway, if something's going on, we should go down to put a stop to it."
"Oh, sure," Villager says. "Let's get killed."
"Killed?" Toon Link tenderly takes his hand. "Not on my watch, Villy. I'll protect you."
"Toon Link?" Villager says, flustered, and the Pit twins take the opportunity to disappear.
"Damn!" Ness gets up, and I quickly and silently grab his hand.
"This way!" Toon Link hurries into the corridor, but the Pit twins are already at the door.
"Now we've no choice!" Villager says. "This is insane. Perhaps I should go alone."
"No way," Toon Link says suddenly. "We're a team. You are definitely not going alone."
"He's right," Ness says, and he looks at me. "We ought to keep them out of trouble — is that calm with you?"
"Definitely," I squeak, praying Ness doesn't let go of my hand this time. I hope to high heaven that there really is a gathering down there, but the chances are slim. I'm not even sure what is happening, how we got here, why we might be about to do something so stupid. Pit and Dark Pit are going to their deaths, and we're the only ones who can stop them... which fills me with a sudden burst of purpose.
But then the twins open the cupboard, and my fear of darkness and tight spaces come rushing back — the passage falling in, the fear, the tightness in my chest…
"I don't want to go down there," Red says flatly. "It's horrible."
"Agreed," Villager says as the Pit twins fool around with the boxes inside. "Red, you don't have to come if you don't want to."
"Yes, he does!" Toon Link calls. "We're a team!"
"No, he doesn't," Villager scolds. "And neither do you, Pit or Dark Pit! Come back, please—"
But Dark Pit bites his thumb at us and enters the passage.
"I won't come," Red decides.
"That's okay," I say quietly. I'm not sure if he hears in his rush to re-enter the games room.
"Alright, we may be down our cynic," Toon Link says, "But we're still going to give it our all. Quickly!" he adds, as Dark Pit disappears from view.
"We need light," Ness says, but Toon Link seizes a bag of scented candles from his pocket, lighting them all from the nearest gas lamps. He doles them out, I steel my nerves, and there's nothing left to do except run into the darkness.
It doesn't take long for us to catch up. Villager grabs Pit's shoulder and Pit jumps with alarm.
"Ah!"
"Candles?" Dark Pit says in the most accusatory tone he can muster. "You are spoiling the atmosphere."
But Pit scoffs. "You are only saying that because you're Dark Pit."
"Am not!"
"Are too!"
"Quiet!" Villager commands. "Look, here's what'll happen. We'll go down here with you, and if there is a gathering, we'll let you attend. But if there is no gathering, we'll go straight back. Understood?"
"Fine," Dark Pit says. "But these candles are vile. Blueberry is such a bad flavour. Where did you get these?"
"I just like mood lighting," Toon Link protests. "Is that a crime?"
"Come on," Ness intercedes, noticing that my hands are now shaking. "Let's just go."
Memories of the last few visits to the passages play in my mind as we hurry downhill. There was a room, I recall, where there'd been a light, and I'd been afraid of it. It must be where we are headed, but among all the different paths and catacombs, it would be a miracle if we find it. I wish I'd thought to use string to make sure we don't get lost.
In the candlelight, it becomes clear that the passages have been roughly carved from the stones and dirt of the ground, without any additional supporting materials. That would explain the rockfall from last night; the weight of the rainwater and my disruptive presence would have applied enough pressure to cause a collapse. This suggests to me that these passages must be new. Else, surely, they would have already caved in… though they look and smell old, I think to myself. But that makes me worry about the weather up above and the fact there's a dripping noise in the distance. I cling onto Ness's hand even tighter than before.
We branch onto a wider section of the passage, and the chill gets noticeably worse. Just as I'm beginning to find our silence eerie, Dark Pit turns around.
"This is much nicer! We're almost there."
"It's not too late to turn back," Villager hisses, still looking as though he'd rather be anywhere else. "Does this look like a gathering to you?"
"It's secret," Dark Pit scoffs. "People have them all the time. Perhaps you haven't ever been invited, Mr Boring." The insult stings Villager a little bit, and he shrinks back.
"I forgot how awful these passageways were," Ness says weakly.
"They're not that bad," Dark Pit says.
"They are," Pit disagrees.
"But you wanted to come down here!"
"Indeed. Unfortunately, I legally have to disagree with everything you say."
"Since when?"
"It's in my contract."
"What contract?"
"You fool." Pit gets out a sheet of paper and some spectacles. "This contract hereby declares that Pit must disagree with everything that Dark Pit says. That contract."
But Dark Pit smirks. "In that case, Pit is a well-respected individual, and women find him extremely attractive."
"Wha — Excuse me!"
Villager loudly clears his throat. "If you are through practising your awful jokes, it'd be nice to get this over with before the roof caves in, all right?"
"Oh?" Dark Pit spins around to face Villager. "Well, I oughtta—"
"Just walk. For the love of Christ."
The Pit twins reluctantly move onwards, somehow ending up in some sort of poking battle. Our footsteps echo around the walls. We take the next fork to the right; the Pits seem to be leading us as if they know exactly where they're going. We join another path, and I look behind me, noticing that in one direction, there's been a cave-in. It has to be where we were last night. Then, we reach a familiar fork, light to one side, the other being our tunnel into the forest. I cannot believe I'd just walked past this, assumed… but perhaps it's for the best I had. What could be in there? I don't hear any music, any shouting, any bottles clinking. The light is coming from around a corner, yellow and flickering slightly. Ominously.
Villager's voice cuts through the silence, "It's still not too late to turn back…"
"No, come on." Toon Link advances, pressed by curiosity. Ness shrinks forward, me at his side. Villager keeps a keen eye on Pit and Dark Pit at the rear, and Toon Link peers around the corner.
"Holy—" Toon Link scurries back. "Everyone, get back! Everyone away, now!"
"What is it?" Dark Pit asks, pressing forward.
"Not a gathering. Come on! We have to leave."
But Dark Pit turns around to face us. "No fear here. Who's with me? I say in we go!"
"No!" Pit counters. "I say we don't go in!"
"Are you a coward?"
"No, I'm not!"
"Are you sure about that?"
"Damn you — yes I am! Come on!"
But Dark Pit runs toward the light, slipping from Pit's grip. For just a second, he gives a cry of delight. And then, there's a flash, a shadow, and he's yanked from view.
"NO!" Pit screams, dashing forward. A mangled shout comes from around the corner. Pit lunges, but something's thrown up at the ceiling, and suddenly, it's all falling in. A cascade of stones tumble down, and the light vanishes behind it. Dark Pit and his captor are gone.
But the rocks don't stop. Pit yells, desperately trying to hold up the roof. I feel Ness pulling me backwards, away from the cascade. Dark Pit's strangled voice rings from the other side of the rocks, over the echoing roar of collapsing dirt.
"RUN!"
Toon Link grabs Villager's hand, pulling him out of his shock. Pit hammers at the stones, but it only accelerates the chaos. Immediately, I know what I have to do. I shake free of Ness's grip, and I run toward Pit.
"No!" Ness exclaims, whirling around. "Lucas, we have to go!"
"Pit, come on!" I cry.
"Dark Pit!" He beats the wall with his fist. "Dark Pit! Dark Pit! Dark Pit!"
I grab his hand, hauling him away from the oncoming torrent. Toon Link and Villager are long gone. Ness desperately swings for my other hand, parrying a rock just before it strikes my head, and then we're running, screaming, blind through the darkness. Pit's hand is tight around my own, and someone is crying. I have no idea where we're going or where we'll end up, all I can focus on is the light and the noise.
I throw us to the left, then to the right. Our candles are long gone, the air thick with dust and heat. Ness pants for breath, and I feel him slowing, Pit's weight getting heavier and heavier. There are crashes and roars, blaring through my mind, and it's coming, the darkness, the sound of pure rock, pure power. I'll be forgotten forever. I'll be dust. Razed.
Just like Tazmily.
The thought is fatal. My body jolts, and I'm flying to the ground. Pit soars from my grip, and it's over, it's all over, and there's weight, and it's all over my face, and my eyes are screwed shut, and it's warm, squidgy, and it's—
It's Ness.
Ness is on top of me. The passageway is not.
There's dead silence all around us. Not a pebble, not even the smallest grain of gravel, dares to move. Then there's light, sudden light. Have we died and gone to the afterlife? Ness, still on top of me, wraps his arms around me tight. I flounder, reaching Pit's hand, and he grips it like a child.
Suddenly, Ness scrambles off of me, and the cold hits in an instant. I look up at Ness's frightened face, which stares at me as though he's never seen me before. Is something wrong? My forehead creases when I look across, and then there is the shape of someone else.
Ryu.
"Where's Dark Pit?" Ness asks, turning to him in challenge.
"Gone." Ryu looks grave. "Look sharp. We need to get away."
Pit scrambles up upon hearing the voice of an adult. "What happened?"
I grab onto the wall, disorientated, wordless. We're not dead. Ness is silent, gaping, while Ryu seems to have a candle of his own. Questions burn through my mind, but none escape me. I grab Ness's hand, but he shakes it off again — what is wrong with him?
Ryu gives us a significant look. But what happened to the rockfall? My mind doesn't know what to think.
And then, it hits me with abject certainty.
Dark Pit is dead.