Prologue: Headmaster Hand

Each time I wake, it takes me longer to remember where I am.

Cell. Pusher. Duster. Police. I shout for help, and then I'm silenced. The routine is constant, increasingly maddening, bringing me to the brink of insanity.

"I'm sorry this happened to you," Duster says. It sounds like the hundredth time, but it could easily be the first. I look at my legs, my arms. I still can't see anything wrong.

The other Tazmily villagers are busy, I think. They can't afford to visit us in jail, not when Tazmilian forces are on their way. From what I've understood, they're thriving; they've found an empty house that isn't Bowser's, they visit the market every few days, and some of them have gotten jobs. Caroline works as an assistant in Felicity's bakery, Tessie is a maid in the Monotoli Mansion, and even Roy, Ike and Reggie are earning money, swinging pickaxes in Giant's Mine.

But I can only dream of such luxuries. My head throbs as I stare across the grey, concrete floor. The only colour is brought by an old red shirt, used to hide the Psychic Stone. Everything is becoming so heavy and the same, the same shade of black, the same shade of monotony. Each day is emptier than the last.

"Thank you," Tessie says on one of her rare visits. She's wearing her maid's uniform. It's rather uncanny.

"What for?" I croak.

Something flashes across her eyes. It might be fear.

"For saving us," she says, sounding a little more determined. "You got us to the city. You did what you promised."

"It was the decent thing to do," I reply, though the idea of doing anything decent feels foreign, all of a sudden. The lines between good and bad are becoming harder and harder to see.

"We're going to get you out of here," Tessie says, and she stands, her eyes brimming with something I can't distinguish. "We're going to help you, I promise."

Time passes. Before I know it, she's gone, and I'm lying down again. I close my eyes, and sleep — at least, I hope it's sleep — consumes me.

The dreams are the worst part. The same thing happens every night. I find myself standing on an island, indistinct whispers echoing through my mind. Black dust swarms, catching in my throat, billowing in an angry swirl.

"We're coming," rasps a shadowy voice.

"It's time," hisses another.

"We're on our way."

"We will prevail-"

In the shrouds of darkness, I can't see what they mean. I can't see who is talking. I can only see thick, black, billowing fog.

"No," I say, certain that whatever they are, they cannot come. They cannot harm my friends, those I promised to protect.

"Too late," the voice whispers.

"Too late."

"Too late…"

The dream flickers and flashes, my heart thrumming like an engine. Lightning strikes, metal flies through the air, someone cries—

And then, it all stops. A greying hand reaches out from the darkness, gripping onto my wrist.

It pulls me into the fog.

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~~o00o~~

Chapter 58: The Fine Art of Hanging On

(Ness)

~~o00o~~

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For a moment, we watch in silence. Then, Lloyd's mouth opens like a hinge, and a high-pitched shriek fills the room.

"It's happening again!" someone screams.

"It's the magicians!" Morton says.

"Shut up!" Ninten pushes past him, desperately running to his friend. "Lloyd? Lloyd, what's happening to you?"

But Lloyd keeps screaming. I can only watch, horrorstruck, purple light shining from his face. The storm rages outside. Suddenly, the noise stops, and he collapses to the floor like a stone.

There's a beat of silence.

"Get Byleth!" Lucas exclaims, shaking us into action. Then, Toon Link's rushing from the room, and I'm hurrying towards Lloyd's fallen body. There's a pulse, an infinitely hopeful pulse, but it's slow.

"Lloyd?" Ninten bellows, trying to shake his friend back to consciousness. "Lloyd, can you hear me?"

The purple light dims, the other attendees watching with bated breath. Working beside Ninten, I desperately crouch over Lloyd's chest, feeling for metal, any signs of anything amiss. His flesh is cold, but that might be thanks to the shattered window. There's a ragged breath beside me. Ninten folds Lloyd into the recovery position, but I wince when something vomit-like falls from his mouth. Lucas returns with An Anthology of Spells, and, pushing past the others, he places his hands on Lloyd's temple, whispering.

"PK revive. PK life-up. Healing Delta..."

"Stand aside!" Byleth cries, hurrying into the room. He darts through the crowd, black cloak billowing in the wind. Deftly, he crouches beside Lloyd's body, observing it for a second before picking him up in his arms. "I'll take him from here," he says. "He needs to be kept under supervision."

"Wait!" Ninten exclaims.

Byleth turns, and a momentary look of alarm crosses his face.

"Where are you taking him?" Ninten asks desperately, coming forward and grabbing Lloyd's hand. "Please, he's my friend-"

"Medical ward," Byleth says. "He'll be well-examined. Doctor Mario-"

"Will do nothing," Red says, stepping in. "Popo and Mega Man were untreated when we checked."

"He needs time away from others," Byleth says insistently. "He could be dangerous-"

"He needs to be looked after, Professor!" Ninten grips tighter onto Lloyd's pale hand. "Please, you can't take him away, Porky's leaving them to die in there-"

But Byleth shakes his head. "I'm sorry, but I have no choice. Ness, Lucas, with me. The rest of you, spread the word. It's happened again... This school is not safe."

And before anyone can stop him, he carries Lloyd away. Lucas and I exchange a hasty glance, silently agreeing to follow. I beckon to Ninten to join us, and we hurry in Byleth's wake, leaving the clamouring students behind us. Toon Link, Pit and Villager will take care of them.

Byleth speeds ahead, having no problems with carrying Lloyd's small body. He leads us down the main corridor, me having to grab Lucas's hand to keep pace. He runs like the wind, reminding me of some sort of thief or superhero, and we almost crash into him when he screeches to a halt.

"No-a entry!" Doctor Mario exclaims, but Byleth pushes past.

"Sorry in advance," I say. "PK Freeze!"

A volley of frost flies from my hands, and Doctor Mario freezes into a massive block of ice. We tumble into the room, slamming the door shut behind us, plugging our noses from the awful smell.

Lloyd is placed down on a table. Nearby, Popo and Mega Man lie unconscious, flesh colder and greyer than before. Ninten gasps, noticing them.

"Ninten. You are not Ness or Lucas," Byleth says, busily procuring a medical kit. "Why are you here?"

"He's a psychic," I say quickly. "Like us."

"I know, but — ah, no matter! There is work to be done, and little time in which to do it..."

"What are you going to do?" Ninten asks fearfully. "You can't make him like the others. I won't let you!"

"Ninten, I'm sorry, but he is far beyond my help," Byleth says. He procures a scalpel from the kit. "Observe."

We anxiously lean forward. Byleth uses the tool to slice through Lloyd's crimson shirt. Then, he traces a circle around his exposed collarbone. When Byleth reaches a certain point, he hooks the blade in an arc, tugging something from within.

A single copper wire.

"Feel his stomach," Byleth says. I obey, pressing a finger against what should be soft flesh. Instead, beneath the skin, there is something solid, something like metal. It feels like a table under a cloth. Ninten touches it, drawing his hand back with a cry.

"What happened to him!?"

"Future Human," Byleth says bleakly. "Porky's converted him. It's genius, the conversions look just like the originals. I just wish I knew how... it is alarmingly accurate..."

"You're lying!" Ninten exclaims, once again grabbing Lloyd's hand. "He can't be a Future Human. Change him back!"

"I'm sorry, but I can't." Byleth removes the scalpel, sliding it back into kit. "He must've malfunctioned somehow. The purple light is emitted by Argon, a noble gas. A current flows through it, and it produces a light, just like neon. Porky uses it because it is inert. It stops the metal from rusting."

"But how does it look so real?" I ask, trying to wrap my head around the scene before me.

"Oh," Lucas says quietly. Suddenly, he looks very unwell. "It's the meat. He uses the meat."

"The meat?"

"Those order forms that Villager found. The ones importing all those animals. He must be using them for flesh. It's all just strings of proteins when it comes down to it... God, his machines must be good, but, wait..." Lucas touches Lloyd's stomach again. He squints at it, then he lets out a sigh of distaste. "Look. You can see the seam."

I lean forward, and what I see almost makes me want to throw up. There's a thin, flesh-coloured thread, tightly sewn into the skin. Some areas are fused, discoloured very subtly, but it's all so horribly obvious up close. Ninten staggers, gibbering.

"He can't... I'd have noticed - I'd have noticed if my friend was made of meat...!"

"You said he was acting weird," Lucas says grimly, going over to him and, surprisingly, patting him on the back. "I'm sorry."

"He's my best friend. There has to be a way!" He looks back up at Byleth. "Please!"

But for the first time, Byleth looks mournful. He studies Ninten's form with those ancient eyes, taking him in, accumulating everything there is to see. He steps forward, laying a heavy palm on Ninten's shoulder.

"Ninten, I apologise, but I think you should go to Rosalina's office. I'm sorry to say that I'm, ah, not the best with… this." He waves his hand across the room. "It's not fair. None of it is fair, and that is why we intend to put a stop to it all. Okay?"

"...Okay." Ninten murmurs, mollified by the touch. I have to wonder if Byleth used some sort of magic. "But look after him. Please..."

When Ninten has left, Byleth wrings his hands, going to the window and looking out at the driving rain. Thunder crackles overhead, rumbling like some kind of volcanic beast.

"This is a terrible, terrible time," he says.

"Are the others the same?" Lucas asks unhappily. "They're Future Humans?"

"Yes," Byleth says, and he looks into his palms. "Both of them."

Popo. Mega Man. The names hit me like bullets. Another set of losses. I long to see Porky's face dragged through the dirt, messed up beyond comprehension for what he's done to them. All because of us. We're tied up in it, and we don't even know why.

"And anyone could be a Future Human?" Lucas looks worriedly between us. "There's no way to tell them apart?"

"Not unless you prod their stomach."

The idea is so terrible yet amusing that I have to stifle a laugh. Byleth looks at me strangely, but Lucas gives a sympathetic expression, perhaps mistaking my frog-like noise for a sob. All of a sudden, I want to cry.

"What's going to happen to them?" I ask, seeing Lloyd's chest rise and fall, just like an ordinary person's would. It doesn't seem real, as if somebody's told me that tomatoes are oranges, or that Bowser dresses up as a fairy.

"I'll monitor their situation," Byleth says. "Something disconnected them from the mainframe, or whatever system Porky used to command his Future Humans. It's no good adjusting their circuits... because that would give him more allies."

"We've seen normal Future Humans outside," Lucas remembers. "Just the other day, the old style, all metallic. What happened to them?"

"They're rejects, or prototypes," Byleth says. "They'll pick up stray humans, and try to convert them."

"And they're counting down," I realise, something finally clicking into place. "Popo said 'Five'. Lloyd said 'Four'. Something's coming."

"There's always something coming," Byleth says grimly. "We should celebrate, it's a rarity they let us know about it."

"But what are they counting down to?"

Byleth doesn't answer, walking from the room, past Doctor Mario, whose shocked face is still frozen behind a wall of ice. He turns, waving us onwards.

"Come. My office. I have some things I need to show you."

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We sit in Byleth's comfortable chairs. My mind whirs, full of crazy thoughts and theories, worries about what the Future Humans could be counting down to. If Porky's not controlling them, then who? And how do we know who to trust? I suppose we could ask everyone at our meeting if we can press their stomachs... but I suspect that wouldn't go down well. Besides, Lloyd was already in the meeting. Porky probably heard it all.

Another swell of anger passes through my body. More and more innocent people are getting hurt, all because we've been too slow. So much for biding our time — we've been sitting back, making it so easy for him. How many are being marched into New Pork City? How many bodies are open on a surgical table, being filled with wires, screws and steel? Tracy promised she'd stay safe, Mother promised she'd never go there, but how long until everyone is taken by force?

"Last time, we discussed Porky's family," Byleth says, placing a book on the table. "If you recall, they were rather elusive, only recorded in paintings and letters. Then, we uncovered Porky's attempt to apply for Minister for Science. Now, I'd like to put these things into context, to consider where he came from, how he got here, and where he may go next."

"Okay," I say, though my thoughts are already drifting. I long to be in the train station, searching for Porky's next clue. I want to lead an army into Porky's office, ready to overthrow him.

"We'll begin with something new," Byleth says, opening up the book. "I trust you've been listening to Porky's rather enlightening assemblies?"

"Of course," Lucas says, though we haven't. In the last assembly, I think I was busy wondering what was for dinner.

"Good, because Porky told us everything we know already," Byleth says. "Think of his Ugly Duckling story; he was lost in the world, lonely, etcetera. Porky was misunderstood. Porky was an angsty teenager looking for attention."

"That sounds about right," I mutter.

"Which is all well and good, but I think there's more to it than that," Byleth says. He turns the book around, and I recognise it as The Mystery Of Magic. "You are familiar with the story of Artur, I presume?"

"Not really," I admit.

"We did read it," Lucas says. "But it was a while ago."

"No matter," Byleth says. "We shall come to it later. Now, when Porky applied to Minister for Science, he wasn't on any records, correct? If you recall in the letter from Geldegarde Monotoli, they had no idea who he was. Meanwhile, in the Ugly Duckling story, something changed to make the duckling well-respected. He found some sort of power, if I'm interpreting the story correctly. Or something powerful. Which fits what he was saying this morning."

Ah, yes. This morning. I spent most of that with my head in the toilet bowl.

"Sorry, what did he say this morning?" Lucas asks sheepishly. "Ness was... a bit sick."

"He talked about how he rose to power with knowledge," Byleth says, his eyebrows raised. "That knowledge is the one thing setting him apart from everyone else."

"But how does that fit with the Ugly Duckling story?"

"A good question. And here, we enter the vague realm of speculation and guesswork. Back to our dear friend Artur... he was the first magician of Creation, the last of the First Five, and the man who created the magical stones. To quote the book, he 'formed them with his mind, harnessing the wild forces of magic and encasing them within a singular object'. This included the Psychic Stone, which, I should add, shouldn't be left on the floor of my classroom..."

"Nor sent hundreds of miles away," Lucas says reproachfully.

"Hundreds of miles away?" Byleth looks up.

"Ollie and Angie told us," Lucas says. "Didn't you have it sent to Headmaster Hand?"

"No?" Byleth looks thunderstruck. "I merely contacted him. I said I'd found your stone on my floor, and that I was concerned for its safety. I didn't have it sent away, that would be absurd!"

"But why did you contact him?" I ask.

"Because he's a magician, like us. He has Elemental powers. As such, we have been keeping up communication..." Byleth shakes his head. "If he's had it sent away, then God help us. That man has always been bad with critical thinking."

"Perhaps Marth was the one who sent it?" Lucas suggests. "Ike and Roy were good friends with him."

"I wouldn't be surprised..." For the first time, Byleth seems genuinely irritated, something he's previously hidden with eye rolls and cynicism. "Forgive me for saying so, but Headmaster Hand can make things needlessly complex. It was imperative, Ryu said, right up there with the training, that you kept the Psychic Stone with you at all times. I'll have to get it sent back."

"It didn't help us much," Lucas admits. "Ryu gave us a lot of things. He didn't say what most of them were for."

"The Master Stick, yo-yo and Master Bat are for fighting," Byleth explains. "Honestly, I don't think Ryu could've been paid to be less vague. And the Psychic Stone, that's supposed to enhance your abilities. If it's not working..." Byleth furrows his eyebrows. "It's an ancient magical object. That's concerning. But this is an issue for another time." He looks back up at us. "My point was, it is a known fact that Artur created five stones, one for each branch of power. However, some say he created a sixth stone, one for a branch of power he had theorised." He looks up at the clocks on his shelf.

"The Time Stone," I say. "Is that the one that sends people back in time?"

"So the theory goes," Byleth says. "Now, if said theory is correct, then-"

Squawk! Squawk! Squawk!

I look wildly around for the source of the noise. Byleth merely rolls his eyes, walking over to his cuckoo clock, which has seemingly activated.

"This damn thing," he mutters, procuring a hammer and striking it once. Its doors fly shut. "If only my decorations hadn't been so meta. That keeps happening, especially when I least expect it. Remind me to replace it, if I ever redecorate..."

The cuckoo gives several muffled squawks from inside its box, but it eventually gives up with a miserable 'coo!'

"The Time Stone was lost to magical records," Byleth continues, sitting back down. "It vanished into history, not mentioned in a single text since Artur's. But I ask you this, have you ever noticed, Porky's technology is rather... otherwordly? He calls himself an inventor, but is he really? If the Duckling found a power, if Porky has some kind of unexplainable knowledge, then let me propose this theory. What if Porky found the Time Stone? What if he was born in the future, he touched it, and it brought him here? That would explain his futuristic knowledge. That explains how he came from nowhere. Why there's no record of his family."

I blink. Byleth sounds rather excited.

"They are called Future Humans," Lucas murmurs, though he doesn't sound convinced. "Maybe because they're so technologically advanced..."

"Hold on," I raise a hand. "Time travel?"

"Potentially," Byleth says.

"Aren't there like, paradoxes?"

"…Potentially."

I feel like my mind is about to explode.

"It's just a theory," Byleth adds. "It's not necessarily important. Merely a point of interest."

I blink again. "You know how you said Headmaster Hand makes things needlessly complex?"

"Point taken," Byleth says, closing the book and tossing it across the room. "But regardless of this, we can now understand the potential magnitude of Porky's power. If he is armed with technology from beyond our time, then we should be prepared to use magic to combat it. His Future Humans are rising as we speak. Therefore, you must train, you must learn, and you must understand what you are up against. The fate of this world might count on it."

"But we're just kids," I say. "Why do we have to do everything?"

"An excellent question." Byleth smiles. "Because the adults are slow, Ness. Too caught up in their silly little lives to notice when the world is crashing down around them. So, go. Practice. Prepare yourselves for Porky's Porm, for doom could lurk behind every corner."

He dismisses us with a wave.

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~~o00o~~

(Toon Link)

~~o00o~~

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"He's pretentious as hell, and he's so overdramatic," Ness complains, back from Byleth's abstract teachings. "Seriously, it's like listening to a depressed fortune teller — you must understand what we're up against! Doom could lurk behind any corner!"

"He means well, but he's not very helpful," Lucas admits, and Ness laughs, giving Lucas yet another one of those I fucking love you so much looks. The ones I sort of wish Villager would give me.

See, I've spent the last hour rounding up the last stragglers in my room, following our disaster of a meeting. I've promised about a thousand times that, no, Lloyd didn't collapse because of our magician friends, and yes, Morton, there'll be more chocolate if you help us in battle. But despite the bitter cold now pouring through my window (thanks, Ness!) Villager hasn't given me so much as a hug. It sounds needy, but it's like flicking a switch with him. Sometimes he's okay with all the PDA, other times we're just good friends. It's not a realm that I'm particularly fond of.

"I guess we'll have to fight this fight ourselves then," Pit says grimly. "I suppose we should start with checking out the train station?"

"Well, first..." Ness stands up a little taller. "We need to check all of your stomachs."

I raise my eyebrows. "Isn't Lucas's stomach good enough? Need a taste of some real abdominals?"

"Abdominals?" Villager snorts. "What abdominals are those, then?"

"Ones I keep well-protected under brownies and cake."

"That's utter nonsense. You're skin and bone."

"And you would know, would you?"

He reddens, turning away, and I grin, pleased with myself.

"Not like that," Lucas says, sounding embarrassed. "We found out that Lloyd has been converted into a Future Human. Porky's using meat to keep the Future Humans looking the original — I know, it's disgusting. But it means that anyone could be one."

"Why does that mean you have to touch our stomachs?" Red asks.

"Because if there's metal underneath, that means you're a Future Human," Lucas says. "It's weird... sorry."

"Very weird," Ness agrees.

But thankfully, we're all passed as clean from conversion. With that out the way, we gather our coats and make our way into the night. Porky's clue directed us to the train station, and while there's a 90% chance that it's a trap, it's the best we've got for now. Besides, if we're attacked, we've got two magicians armed with sticks and baseball bats on our side.

"I'd forgotten about this," Ness says, bouncing the baseball bat against his palm. "Ryu gave it to us, along with a load of other stuff. It's the Master Bat, apparently."

"This is the Master Stick," Lucas says, brandishing what could very well have been collected from the forest floor. It's been painted gold, but it still looks distinctly wooden and flimsy.

"Do I get a weapon?" I ask, pouting. Ness tosses me a red yo-yo.

"Byleth says this is used for fighting..."

"Marvellous."

The weather hasn't let up much, rain still pouring from the sky and turning the ground into thick mud. The thunder appears to have concluded, but I'm still soaked. At this rate, the golden paint will be washed off of the Master Stick.

In the distance, the train station looms, lit by glowing gas lights and lampposts. This line is mainly used to bring passengers from Onett to Twoson, and trains only stop here to deliver students and mail to the school. Unfortunately, this means a high spiked fence separates us from the platform.

"The next clue will be here somewhere," Pit says purposefully, continuing his new vigilante streak. Recently, he's been more determined than ever to bring Porky down, to the point that I've heard him muttering plans of action in his sleep.

"I expect to be climbing back over this fence while being chased by Future Humans," Red says. "Should I help people over?"

"No need." Villager points to the forest. "We can use a tree. C'mon."

The tree which we select is an oak, tall branches spearing over the railway line. It looks like an accident waiting to happen, which is why I'm surprised when my mouth volunteers to go first.

"Good luck," Villager says. "Stay safe in there."

"Have we considered how we'll cross back over again?"

"We'll cross that bridge when it comes to it," Lucas says, looking fearfully at the oak. I remember his last encounter with a tall tree, all the way back in the first week of term. It hadn't ended well. "Good luck," he adds.

Gritting my teeth, I grip the trunk, using a sturdy upper branch to pull myself upward. The rain and excessive patches of moss make the wood practically frictionless, and I swing myself forward, having to rely exclusively on arm strength, which I do not have in droves. Luckily, I'm light, so I scramble onto the first branch, then the second. With the others cheering down below, I feel like some kind of hero when I jump, using the fence post as a fireman's pole, sliding down on the other side.

"Easy," I declare, a lot more confident with both feet on the ground. So, Red helps Villager into the tree, followed by Pit, Ness, a worried-looking Lucas, and eventually, himself. We hop into the station , glad for a little shelter, and we survey the scene. There's a single railway line in the centre, with platforms on either side of it.

"Last train's already gone," Pit says, looking at the timetable pinned onto the noticeboard. Unfortunately, due to the gale-force wind, no clues making themselves immediately obvious. I shiver, wishing I'd brought a bigger coat.

"Let's split up to search," Villager decides. "Red and I can climb the bridge, Toon Link and Pit can search the rails. Ness and Lucas, can you search the platform?"

"Sounds good," Ness says, and we move into action.

With ease, I slip onto the railway, Pit in my wake. The tracks are simple, beams of steel perpendicular to stones and railway sleepers, but it still feels weird to be standing on them. Pit comes up behind me, shaking the water from his hair.

"What do you reckon we're looking for, then?"

"An envelope?" I shrug. "I don't know. Perhaps we're supposed to wait to get murdered."

"Well, if there are any Future Humans, they can't cross that fence."

"I wouldn't be so sure..." I gulp, remembering the inhuman strength of some of the ones that I've seen. Especially the ones in Crazy Hand's hideout.

"Never mind," Pit says, turning purposefully towards the tracks. "Look for something shiny, maybe? Some graffiti? We haven't got long. Come on."

I watch him as he begins to dig amongst the ballast. Something in him has changed lately. I don't mean being-controlled-by-Porky changed, but he's changed in his ruthlessness. His drive to win this fight.

When he first moved into my dorm, we'd talk long into the night. He was a new friend, a new face with so much to say, and especially after dealing with Link for so long, I was happy to have somebody fresh to talk to. But since coming back from the Wilderness Survival Week, he's been quiet. Reclusive. He focuses on his schoolwork, he focuses on defeating Porky, but he doesn't focus on talking to others. Sometimes, when he's lost in his thoughts, it's like talking to a brick wall.

Ever the king of bad timing, I decide it's time for that to end.

"Are you okay?" I ask, coming over to where Pit is still hurling through stones. He turns to me, sweeping his dripping hair from his face.

"Yeah, I'm fine, why?"

"I mean, like. Long-term. Is something going on?"

"Other than this war?" Pit raises a dubious eyebrow. "Don't worry about it. It'll all be over soon enough."

"I don't worry about things," I say, even though that's a lie. Most nights I still have nightmares, especially ones involving Ryu.

"You got drunk last night," Pit says. "Villager had to put you to bed. If that doesn't scream coping mechanism, I don't know what does."

"Well - hey!" I protest. "That was one time. I'm talking about you, you idiot. You seem different."

"I'm not a Future Human, if that's what you mean."

"Of course you're not. I'd know if you were."

Pit looks up, something like gratitude crossing his face. He drops his eyes to the rails, rubbing his sodden arm.

"Thanks, I guess."

"Well, you're my friend," I try. "Oviously I'd notice if you went all robotic. I've got brains as well as looks."

"Ha," Pit says, still fixated on the same bit of rail. "Well, yeah. I'm not a Future Human. But you're right, it's different. I'm different."

"Something's changed." I move forward. "Something happened."

"Yeah." Pit turns away, but then he speaks. "Toon Link, I saw him."

"Who?"

"...Dark Pit."

The weight of the name is more than I'd expected. Even the rain seems to get heavier at its mention.

"Dark Pit is one of those monsters," Pit says bitterly. "A Future Human. He didn't know who I was. He didn't know who he was. He tried to kill me, and I had to run."

My throat fills with rocks. The silence is filled only by the rain.

"When?" I manage.

"That first night we were back. I went for a walk because I needed some air. But there he was, lost, shouting Placet Auxilium. There was nothing I could do."

"Sorry," I say, even though it's the most fucking pathetic thing I can say. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry. It's Porky who should be. It's Porky who will be." He cracks his knuckles. "Before it was personal. Now it is intimate."

We keep searching the rails, finding nothing among the sleepers. Underneath the platform is a cavernous space, full of scurrying noises and litter, and I edge away from it, unsure that Porky would hide something so important under there. The others are hard at work, Ness and Lucas having resorted to kissing each other in the rain, while Red and Villager work in silence over the footbridge that connects the platforms.

Red and Villager. I have to wonder if something in their friendship has shifted, especially now I've come further into the picture. They were childhood best friends, but I think it was a different kind of friendship from that of Ness and Lucas. I can imagine that Villager was totally a teacher's pet back then, guaranteed the pair of them bonded over a love for maths or equations or whatever. But the sad reality is that the pair have grown up, and they've become quite different. Both are great, of course, but perhaps they're not the best for each other anymore. Perhaps Red needs more order, and Villager needs more freedom.

"Got it!" Pit exclaims suddenly. I turn to see where he is, by the station's noticeboard, only metres away from where Ness and Lucas should be searching. The pair come apart, blushing ferociously, and Villager and Red clatter down the stairs to see what's been found.

Pit points to the wall. Surprisingly, the clue isn't on the noticeboard itself, instead, an arrow has been drawn in magenta paint. It directs us to a crack in the station's paintwork. Beneath it is a looped, cursive signature.

Porky Minch.

"Peel it back," Villager suggests, and Pit steps forward, grabbing the frayed edges of the paintwork. Crackling rings out, faultlines darting across the wall. Pit tears it like a plaster, and it comes as one, revealing green lettering.

"The… second," Ness reads, squinting. But there's more. Pit reaches for the paint again, slowly tearing away another strip. The lettering reveals itself, quickly becoming sodden under Pit's dripping sleeve.

"Train is mine," Lucas says before the words can be washed away. "The second train is mine."

An eerie silence fills the night. The second train? What does it mean? Pit reaches for the paintwork again, my senses heightening. I get the distinct feeling we're no longer alone.

He tears. The cracks dart like lightning. The strip of paint falls to the floor.

"You should run," I read, my stomach dropping.

Pit tears away the final strip.

"Seriously, you should run."

There's a moment of silence.

"Placet Auxilium!"

I whirl around. Several steel hands grip the edge of the platform, clambering towards us. Innumerable figures emerge from the darkness, hissing, crawling onto the track.

We're screwed.

"Go!" Pit bellows, and we're running. I grip the yo-yo, my heart pounding in my chest. There are so many. So many of them.

"Placet Auxilium!" A beast steps out of the shadows, but I ram it with my body, sending it tumbling onto the rails. I keep running, not sure where Pit is leading us until we reach the footbridge and he freezes.

"PK Fire!" Lucas bellows, flames volleying from his hands. "PK FIRE!"

The horde mounts behind us. In a split second, Pit dashes up the stairs and I follow, running headlong into another surge of Future Humans. We whirl around, but the monsters are climbing after us, screaming for all they're worth.

I grip the yo-yo. "This is the part where someone has a really good idea!"

"We have to fight!" Ness exclaims. "PK Fire!"

"That's not a really good idea!"

"It's the best I've got!"

I frantically whirl the yo-yo over my head. Lucas hurries through with the Master Stick, smashing it into the nearest Future Human. It bellows, toppling from the bridge onto the rails.

"Placet Auxilium!"

But there are more, silver blades glinting on their wrists, their cacophonous cries filling my ears. Ness swings his bat into the Future Humans climbing the stairs, toppling the foremost one like a skittle. Deciding fast, I rush alongside Lucas, launching my yo-yo into the air. Desperately, I pull, and a Future Human thrashes, tangled in the string. One more yank sends it crashing into the footbridge's wall, plummeting onto the track below.

"Come on!" I exclaim, vaulting after it. The jump is a few metres at most. For a moment, my heart pounds, but the Future Human breaks my fall. I reach out, catching Lucas when he follows.

"Placet Auxilium!"

Lucas scrambles to his feet, smashing the Master Stick into the fallen Future Human. Pit leaps next, and he topples me to the ground when I catch him. I hit my head on a rail, but I scramble to my feet.

"Come on!" I yell. Ness jumps down, followed by Red and Villager. Panting, we clamber back onto the platform, and then I spot it. A little toolshed, used for storing spare rails and parts. We can use it to get back over.

"Placet Auxilium!"

Ness rushes forwards, beating the Future Human out of the way. I follow, pulse racing, and I'm the first to climb onto the toolshed's roof. The jump will be tough, the fence's spikes high and menacing, but I steel my nerve. I can do this.

I leap for all I'm worth.

Future Humans clamour behind me. The iron spikes graze my shoes. Then I'm flailing, tumbling into a wild mass of green. Sticks graze my ears, my arms, my legs, but I made it. I'm alive.

But it's not over yet. Pit jumps next, Ness and Lucas guarding the toolshed, swiping stick and bat at the horde. Red is next to hurl himself over the fence, and I break his fall, gasping at his surprising weight. Then, Lucas scrambles onto the shed with Villager's help, and then he's coming as well, falling spectacularly into the hedge below.

"Come on!" Villager cries, reaching out, and Ness scales the toolshed like an insect. Villager boosts him, and he yells, tumbling into Lucas's waiting arms.

"Placet Auxilium!"

Villager stands alone on the toolshed, looking bravely down at the Future Humans that surround him. The rain drives into his face, and in the lamplight, he looks golden, heroic. But then, there's a sickening crunch. The roof gives way.

He falls.

Wood scatters, spilling all over the platform. The Future Humans surge forward, blades gleaming with menace. I scream, throwing myself into the bars that separate us, and Villager backs away, panic all over his face. He's cornered. His eyes meet mine.

This is it.

"No!" I bellow. "Villager!"

"Toon Link, I-"

Something slashes. Someone screams. Something is red, and I can't see what it is. The earth shakes, and I fall.

It's not real. It can't be real. The rain lashes at my hair, my skin, my coat, my stupid fucking coat. Villager. Villager.

Something barrels into me.

"PK THUNDER!"

There's an impossibly bright light. Something explodes. I'm sent face-first into the dirt, coughing and spluttering. I roll, and there he is.

Bandanna Boy.

"The lightning," he gasps. "Old - versions. Damages - wiring!"

I dare to look. The Future Humans have crashed to the floor, metal echoing into the night. Something red and torn up is in the corner, but he stumbles to his feet. He's alive.

"Get him out of there!" I yell. "Get him out!"

From nowhere, Ninten produces a key. He rushes to the station gates, wrenching open the padlock. Villager staggers, trying his best to run towards us, and he tumbles into my arms.

"I've got you," I say, pressing kiss after kiss to his bloody forehead. 'You're okay. I've got you. I've got you."

"Get him inside," Pit orders. "Get him inside at once."

We all work together, lifting him onto our shoulders. He tries to moan in protest, but there's blood dripping down his limbs. We reach the warmth of the entrance hall, not giving in, tears falling wildly down my cheeks. He'll be okay. He has to be okay.

"To the medical room," Lucas says. We move up the stairs as one, and then Villager is being tumbled into a bed. I grip him tight, and he smiles weakly, head rolling in my direction.

His clothes are in shreds. The Future Humans were ruthless, redness painting his filthy arms, gashes on both of his cheeks.

"I think I need a plaster," he says.

I almost laugh. I grip onto his hand as if that might help him through the pain. It could've been seconds, milliseconds before the worst had happened. He's alive, I think to myself. That's the best thought I can have at the moment.

"You saved his life," I say, turning suddenly to Ninten. "Thank you - thank you so much."

"Yeah, well." Ninten sticks his hands into his pocket. He looks more serious than usual. "I lost my best friend earlier. I wasn't about to let that happen to anyone else."

"How did you know - the thunder-"

"It caused the malfunction in Lloyd, didn't it? When Ness used that spell…" Ninten shrugs. "I figured it was worth a try."

"Th-Thank you," I stammer. "You're a hero."

Villager groans, and I hurry back to his bedside, grabbing onto his hand. Red works fastly on his other side, sticking a plaster down anywhere there's a hint of blood. He's okay, I keep having to remind myself. He's going to be okay.

"We did it," Lucas says quietly. "We got the clue."

"'The second train is mine,'" Ness recounts. "What does it mean?"

But it doesn't matter. I ignore him. I don't care about the clue, not while Villager is still hurt.

.

.

.

.

.

The next hour passes in what I can only describe as a haze. Pit cleans Villager off with a sponge, and I muster up enough energy to help, especially in the more sensitive regions. Red fetches Villager some fresh clothes, and when we put them on him, he looks almost normal again. Ninten disappears, having watched the scene play out for a while with a brooding expression on his face, and Ness and Lucas follow, gripping tightly onto one another's hands. It's late at night, but I don't care. I don't need to sleep.

"It's not a good look," Villager moans, when we show him his reflection in a nearby glass bottle. "I look like I've been sliced up."

"You have," Red reminds him. Villager sighs, wincing as he lies back down.

"Could've been worse, though."

"Could've been better, too."

"I thought I was for it when the roof fell," Villager says, and there's a softness to his tone. "It was terrifying. I was... yeah. Never again."

"You were going to say something to me," I recall. "You started to, at least."

Surprisingly, Villager's face reddens. "Yeah. I was."

"What was it?"

"Well…" He smiles. "I guess you'll have to wait for another near-death situation to find out, won't you?"

"Hey!"

He laughs, but it's weak, and it ends in him pressing a hand to the wound in his cheek. I'm not sure if he can afford to lose any more blood. If it comes to it, I might have to lend him some of mine.

"Red, we should go," Pit says, standing up and giving me a distinct look. "Tomorrow is going to be an important day. We need as much sleep as we can get."

"What about Villager?" Red asks, scandalised. "Who will apply more plasters?"

"Don't worry about me," Villager says feebly. "Toon Link will take good care, I'm sure. But I reckon Ninten needs a friend about now, do you think you could manage that?"

I expect Red to launch into a tirade about Ninten, and about new people entering our group of friends. But to my surprise, his face softens.

"Of course. Look after yourself, Villager."

"I will, mate. You too."

Pit leads him out, tentatively placing a hand to his back, and then Villager and I are left alone.

I'm not sure whether to smile or cry. What we went through out there, though it was expected, has left scars, both physical and mental. Something burbles beneath my chest. It's not right, and it's not fair.

"Come here," Villager says, and I obey, rolling into the medical bed beside him. I want to hold his body close, but it's like he's made of glass, wounded and incomplete. No matter how okay he may be pretending to be, I've always been able to see through his ruses. Just as he's always been able to see through mine.

"Shit," I say, because it seems like the most accurate word to describe the situation.

"Agreed," Villager says, rolling in my direction. It must cause him a little pain, because he winces again.

He stares me down. In between us, there are so many things that need to be talked about. So many things have to be said, and I don't even know where to begin. His eyes shine, and I find myself eternally grateful that the Future Humans kept them safe. They're beautiful, but best of all, they're ever so kind.

"I want to do us properly," Villager says quietly, taking my hand. "If you still want to. Sorry that I left you hanging for so long. You're - yeah. You're worth it."

I raise my eyebrows. "Despite your mother's opinions?"

"Despite my mother's opinions. Life is short, shorter than we sometimes expect." He smiles, a little mournful, shuffling nearer to put a hand over my shoulder. "A lot could happen tomorrow. I don't want my life to end without having tried — without having done what I want to do."

"You want to do me?"

"Shut up," Villager laughs, rolling his eyes. "You're such a pervert. I'm lying here, wounded, and you're still trying to get into my pants."

"So?" I say, grinning, and Villager grins as well.

"It's a bit rude, don't you think? We haven't even gone on a date yet."

"Well, where do you want to go?"

"Surprise me," Villager says, his eyes twinkling. But his expression mellows out, and he puts a hand to my cheek. "It's alright if you don't want to anymore, though. It's alright if you'd rather not do the whole romance thing. Especially considering, well, this damage."

"What about it?"

"Well." Villager looks down, and I feel a familiar swoop in my stomach. "I'm hardly going to be much of a looker with two great big scars on my face."

That idiot. I grin. It's always been about more than looks, ever since I fell for him. He's so fucking oblivious.

"Who cares about scars?" I close the distance, taking this massive fool into my arms. "You're alive. That's about all I can ask for at the moment."

He smiles, and there's still so much between us. So much is left undiscussed, there are so many things that need to be calculated, examined, thought over. But when Villager kisses me like it's his final day, I don't think I can ever ask for anything again.