Maybe it was the shock from last night or the weariness that pervaded her body, but the thought of Monochrome being there didn't really seem important until the next day. Merle lay in bed, the covers a mess beneath her thin form. She stared at the ceiling in silence.

It was a short lived silence.

A small whine hummed in the air, coming through clenched teeth. Merle covered her eyes, the whine becoming louder.

Monochrome. The one who destroyed the Land of Canvases. She had figured it out last night, but the detail was deemed insignificant when the Dead-Color was constantly bearing down. He could have easily stepped in. A wave of his hand and she'd be gone. Dead. Completely and utterly destroyed.

But he didn't. He even stopped Tessur who could also completely and utterly destroy her.

"Why?" The word was not asked to anyone in particular. "Why? Why? Why?"

Did he want to destroy Earth just like the Land of Canvases? Drown them in a writhing sea of Dead-Colors until they chocked? Twist the souls of beloved art pieces before everyone's eyes just as they fell into eternal sleep? Rid everything of color and bathe it in his namesake: monochrome? The very thought sent a torrent of icy chills down Merle's spine. What could one cure do against an army? Absolutely nothing. Just using her finisher made her want to lie down and sleep for a week. If she had to use it multiple times…

"Why?"

An empty room could give no answers.

She turned onto her side, burying her face in the sheets. They smelled of fresh laundry soap and lavender. What if Monochrome was planning an assault right now? Gathering up his army to come marching through Blackwell? Her hands tightened around her eyes till two fists were boring into the sockets. The pain didn't stop the onslaught of thoughts. Merle sank back into the loud embrace of overthinking and fear. There was nothing else to do. She couldn't launch a preemptive strike, there was no way for her to get to the Land of Canvases; she couldn't ask for help, who could help her, who would want to help her; there was simply nothing to do but be a sitting duck.

Is this how the Land of Canvases felt while waiting while Monochrome loomed before them? Would Earth and all its people become nothing more but husks lying in the gray streets? The bustling cities becoming nothing more than doll's houses with the living dead in their rooms? Would everything wither away beneath a faded sun?

What happens afterwards? What happens… to me? Each time Clancy had mentioned the other cures, her face would darken and grow distant. Not once had she ever spoken of their fates. Why would she when simply thinking of her home made her breakdown and sob. They were probably gone just like the civilians. Grif had said the real people were lost, so why would the cures be any different? Or perhaps Monochrome had killed them, made sure none of them would be able to stop him.

Thinking too much, I need to stop. Just declaring it like that was useless. Since when had that ever stopped her from overthinking?

What did stop it was horrendous yelling from the hall.

Merle didn't bother with stopping the irritated scowl from forming. Could the universe not let her have one moment to herself? One without someone barging in or arguing outside her door? Of course not.

"That freak is keeping me up at night and you're getting mad at me?" It was a girl Merle had never heard before.

"If you keep causing disturbances and yelling, then yes, I'm going to get mad at you." That was Sylvia, her sharp voice easily identifiable. "And calling a fellow student a 'freak' isn't right. Apologize."

She hadn't seen Sylvia since after she left her with that crying kid. Even now, despite the annoyance that prickled beneath her skin, a sense of something dark and slimy festered in her heart. Sylvia can just talk so easily to people no matter who, can't she.

"I'll call her a freak because she is a freak. She probably caused this whole curse."

"Now you're just being ridiculous and loud. If you don't like being next to her then request a dorm move, there's plenty of free rooms open," Sylvia snapped back, voice like ice, slipping straight through Merle's veins and freezing them. Rarely, had she sounded so cold intentionally. Not once had she ever taken a tone like that with her despite all the stupid rules Merle broke.

The only reply was stomping which eventually faded out.

I thought the school was finally recovering, but it seems it's still on edge. The Dead-Color from last night must have triggered a relapse of sorts. I wish they would stop attacking the school. The kids here didn't deserve to have their emotions stolen over and over. Well, no one did. But especially the kids.

Such a pain…

Knocking filled the room. Why wouldn't it, Sylvia was of course outside and probably wanted to continue their conversation from last night. If it could be called one.

"Hey," she greeted once Merle opened the door. "I just wanted to check up on you after last night." Her eyes dimmed, smile shrinking. "There hadn't been a fainting spell in a while and well…"

Oh. She just wanted to check up on her. Merle's chest constricted, but why? It was hard to breathe, the air still and heavy.

"Are you okay?" Sylvia asked, eyes narrowing.

When was she ever okay? Even so, Merle managed a numb nod and fake smile. She didn't need Sylvia worrying over nothing. That kindness, and how weird it was to still think of kindness and Sylvia in the same sentence, was better off being spent on someone else. But, her face only fell, the frown becoming sharper.

"If you're not feeling okay then you need to lie down or go see someone like the nurse."

"I'm fine," said Merle softly. "I'm… fine."

Her mouth opened to argue more, but ultimately no noise came out. She shook her head and stepped back from the door. "I'm not going to push it then, just… if you aren't feeling well don't push yourself." With that, Sylvia gave a short goodbye tossed over her shoulder and continued down the hall.

Merle immediately shut the door and leaned her forehead against the cool wood. With a slow exhale, her chest stretched, not feeling tight anymore. There was still a twinge of pain in her chest, probably from the Dead-Color slamming into her last night than from talking, but it was manageable.

"I'm fine," Merle spoke to the silent room. The fake smile slipped back on. Hadn't she read somewhere that a smile could trick the brain into being happier? Her lips pulled tighter till it hurt.

"So… want to tell me why you called me here?" Anneis leaned against the blank, white wall. If she stood to her full height, her head might crash through the roof of the little hideaway. Where Tessur had found the time to thoroughly investigate their new base, Anneis had no clue. The room was tucked far, far away in the corner and unless you were looking for it, you wouldn't know it existed.

Anneis certainly wasn't aware of it until Tessur had dragged her here. Yet, for some odd reason it was familiar. Maybe it reminded her of the barracks back in the Land of Shade? Those were squashed as well.

"What I show you stays in this room, am I clear?" Tessur whispered harshly as if he raised his voice that he may be overheard.

"Okay," Anneis whispered loudly back.

"Don't mock me. This is serious." Tessur frowned and crossed his arms.

"I'm not mocking, just talkin' like you." Anneis leaned down further, stretching her legs out further. Couldn't he have found a spot she could fit in? "Now what is this about? Lord Monochrome deciding to stay? Because we've already talked about that."

It wasn't ideal, but not the worst thing was the consensus.

"No, it's not about that. But I still stand by the idea to get him to leave." Tessur clenched and unclenched his left hand repeatedly. "It's about something more important."

"If it's so important why are we meeting in this poor excuse of a room? And why just the two of us?"

"Etihvv can hardly be considered a part of our 'team'." Tessur's hands rose as he put air quotes around the word 'team'. "I don't like nor trust them. I mean, why are they constantly in the prisons? And-" Tessur paused mid rant. He gave a slight cough. "Never mind."

Ever since the two had met, Tessur and Etihvv fought. Whether it be over dinner, room arrangements or dealing with the Pretty Cure, the two could never settle. Especially since the prisoner showed up. Anneis cracked her neck and squatted down. It was the only way she could fit comfortably in the damn room. It wasn't even a room, more of a long closet.

"Give the kid a break, it's because of them we were even able to defeat the Land of Canvases." A long time ago, the Land of Shade sent many kids at a young age to infiltrate the Land of Canvases. Apparently, Etihvv fit in so well they were chosen to become a Pretty Cure. How laughable. Like anyone from the Land of Shade could become one.

"As much as I appreciate their work, as a person I find them irritating," Tessur said. He drew himself higher— lucky him— and extended the hand he'd been clenching earlier. "But this isn't about them—" his hand slowly unfurled, beads of color bleeding from between his fingers. "—this is about the Pigment."

Anneis jumped to her feet, back hitting the wall with a loud slam. Her skin crawled as small pinpricks of different greens shone across. She recoiled once more, hand swatting at the color. "Get those away from me!"

It was color, she couldn't just swat it away, but she tried again and again. Small shards of green sat in Tessur's palm, each reflecting a different shade. Most of them were dark green, except for two. Looking at them made disgust bubble inside, mixed with anger. Anneis forced it down. Her fists uncurled and went to burrow in her thighs. She didn't want to punch Tessur out for whatever it is he was doing. Not yet at least.

"Calm down." Tessur closed his hand once more. The room returned to its previous colorless state. "No need to react so violently."

"I'm about to punch you out you—"

"Anneis." Tessur cut her off, eyes narrowing. Her mouth clamed shut with an audible click. He was getting more serious than usual, something that unsettled her. "You good?" He asked after a moment of silence. She gave a curt nod. "Good." He raised his hand once more, watching her carefully. She kept her face neutral. Her body relaxed unnaturally, going limp like someone had cut strings to a puppet. It was the appearance of someone from the Land of Shade; emotionless.

"Now, tell me what you see." The colors appeared once more, small pricks no bigger than fireflies. They danced around the room at the slightest movement.

"Pigment… fragments," she answered slowly. Despite her slack face, her voice had a tint of disgust and anger. It was hard to keep it out. Color revolted her to the point she wanted to lash out. Especially green. "Wait, fragments?"

"Fragments."

"But, I thought the Pigments can't be broken," Anneis said. Her eyes traveled back down to small slivers. "They're, well you know." She rubbed the back of her head, searching for the correct words. None came to mind.

"It's a testament to how strong Lord Monochrome is," Tessur said.

"And you wanted to make him leave." A sly grin broke her mask. "Now what's so important about them?"

Tessur gave her a deadpan stare. There was a lull, the two just looking at each other. A faint sense of heat rose to Anneis' cheeks, but she forced it down. They were fragments, but what did it mean? What would they be doing with them? She waited and waited for Tessur to say, but he never spoke. Finally he let out a small sigh, shoulders drooping. "Are you an idiot?"

"Hey!"

Merle tapped her fingers against the desk. Her journals were laid out, blank pages staring up at her. Despite taking the time to arrange them, and clean the top of her desk, she had no energy to pick up a pen and actually design something. With a sigh, she leaned back and stared at the ceiling. It was more interesting than looking at the blank pages. At least it had some sort of popcorn-y pattern to trace with her eyes. It'd been like that the whole week.

"I'm bored," Merle said. Sitting around in her room all day was the worst. But, it wasn't like she could risk going outside. People might stare at her, or interact with her, or she might do something wrong causing laughter and jeering. Luckily, winter break was starting. Students, the ones that hadn't left, would be gone leaving a small handful behind. Merle would be one of them. Her mother had already told her she was in Eastern Europe or something taking photos and wouldn't be able to come back. It was fine. Merle was used to spending winter break at the academy. It would be weirder to not be spending it here. She idly spun a pencil in hand.

Although… it is my last year.

Merle sat straight. She didn't want to think about that. Not at all.

You might not even make it to graduation, what's the point of thinking about it? Monochrome could end you in one fell swoop. Or maybe the next Dead-Color will get lucky.

A chill ran down her spine. The grip on the pencil tightened till a crack filled the air. The wood had splintered, yellow paint and chips flaking all over her fingers. With another sigh, Merle threw it in the trashcan. She was getting nowhere. The journals were just blank pages and were going to stay blank. If only she could draw inspiration from something.

There was a knock, interrupting her thoughts. "Hey Merle," someone called, voice muffled. Her head snapped up, followed by her body. What was Sylvia doing here again? But… Merle didn't want to admit it, but she was growing tired of being in her room, especially since no project captured her attention right now. "Are you in there?"

"Yes," Merle cracked the door open. Of course, the dorm manager was there. No one else bothered to knock on her door, avoiding her like the plague.

"Hey, can I come in?" She was chewing on her lip. Her eyes were trained far down the hall, not glaring which was unusual.

No. The response barely clawed its way out before Merle clammed her lips together. It was more on reflex than anything. Not that I want her in my room. Merle side eyed the floor around her desk. It was a mess of wires and tools that she really needed to sort. I don't have contraband there do I? Peering closer, there was nothing too incriminating. Are wires bad? They lay beneath her desk like a swarm of snakes. What if I get in trouble for my room not being clean?

"What do you want?" Merle asked, looking back to Sylvia. No, she wouldn't let the other into the room. That was just begging for trouble.

"I need some help."

And she decided to come to her? How laughable. What could Merle do? Absolutely nothing worth mentioning.

"You don't need to glare at me. It's nothing big," Sylvia said, continuing to chew on her bottom lip. "It's just that in a club I'm in, we're having technical difficulties and I thought since you're good with machines you'd be able to help." Her cheeks had increasingly grown red till they were crimson. "I can't really think of anyone else who'd be good with a computer." The words were barely a whisper.

But me? We've barely even talked. What would she know about me? Was this some joke? Some way to get back at her for… something? For brushing her off last night? No. Sylvia isn't like that. Her chest tightened once more. Sylvia was genuinely asking for help.

Merle didn't know if that scared her or not. Her chest was tight and it was hard to breathe.

I want to be kind. The thought burst in her head overtaking everything else. She couldn't shake it away. Someone kind… she couldn't be like that. Someone like her who wasn't good at anything and never got a word out correctly. She didn't deserve to call herself kind when her voice never mattered and never would. The thought was stomped beneath a mental boot. Stomped and shoved to the dark recess of her mind, never to sprout again.

"…What is it?" Her voice was rough and stilting.

"Our club needs help with the computer and a projector," said Sylvia. "We can't get it to work."

"Club?"

"The Movie Club," Sylvia said with a smile. "It's technically not a real club, but we're still getting together now." She scratched the back of her head, smile growing. "I think with the last fainting spell, we need to get together, not grow apart. And movies are always fun."

Were they? Merle coiled a long lock of hair around her finger and tugged. She wasn't fond of movies, especially going to the theater. The only time she genuinely enjoyed them was on her own. It was hard to compare her feelings however when she'd never been to the movies with friends nor sat with any to watch a film.

If I help her that means I have to go outside. The club members would certainly be looking at her, asking questions about what she was doing. Not only that, but she'd be expected to answer. Already, their gazes passed over Merle's body sending shivers up and down her spine. The hand on the door tightened, the wood biting into her palm. There was no way she'd be able to help.

"Sorry. I can't." The words were out before she could stop them.

"Huh?"

"I can't," Merle repeated.

"O-Oh. Why?"

What if she couldn't help? What is the problem was too hard to figure out. All those expectations would make her break. The club's hope would shatter. They'd give her fake smiles and say it was okay, but it'd be lies. She'd have to be an idiot to subject herself to that. However, none of it was possible in her room.

Merle didn't answer. She continued to look down at her feet, missing the growing frown on Sylvia's face.

"Okay then. Sorry for bothering you. Have a good—"

The door was closed promptly, cutting off the last of Sylvia's words. Immediately after, Merle regretted the action. It was incredibly rude. Not just rude, but mannerless. She almost opened the door once more to apologize, but at the last second stopped. Her fingers brushed against the smooth metal hesitating. What would she say to Sylvia? 'Sorry. People terrify me and I'd rather put myself first? It's obvious they're all liars?' As if she'd believe it.

"I'm sorry," Merle whispered to no one. Her vision distorted, the world rippling to muddled colors. Tears threatened to spill. Why was she like this? How come the gazes of people was enough to make her want to disappear?

Didn't other people feel like this? How did they deal with it?

They just put on fake smiles like you do. Merle's hand tightened into a fist to stop shaking. It didn't stop the rest of her body. Her upper body was trembling; chest heaving for a breath. It was caught like a knife slipping in and out of her lungs. You hurt Sylvia just like you hurt Clancy, unable to say anything. The second someone truly needs you, you fail.

Merle ripped herself from the door. Despite the world being blurred she flopped face first onto her bed. The sheets were soft, absorbing her unshed tears easily. She relaxed once on it; physically, not mentally. Her thoughts were a storm, tearing through any flimsy defense she tried to raise.

Why did it feel like she could only ever do anything as Cure Aero? As her regular self, Merle didn't have the mental fortitude to look someone in the eyes, but as Aero she could do it easily. Yelling, voicing her opinion, arguing, she had done it all as Aero. So why can't I do so as Merle?

Meena was able to talk to me easily, had multiple times. She can carry a conversation all by herself… Sylvia too. They're able to smile bright and look people in the eyes. Able to keep friendships.

There was something wrong with her. Something she'd never realized before. Or maybe she had, but refused to acknowledge it.

NO. Merle shot up from the bed. Her nails dug into her palms, but she ignored the pain. There was nothing wrong with her. Thinking like that… it was wrong. She simply wasn't able to understand others. It wasn't a big deal, not how she was making it out to be. She was perfectly fine. Other people had trouble in different subjects, this was the same. That's right… just because I have trouble in something doesn't mean there's something wrong with me.

Her body felt drained as if she'd been beaten by a Dead-Color. Spending her evening mentally berating herself wasn't how it was supposed to be spent, but well neither was any other evening. Merle was used to it. To the flood of thoughts of how she was supposed to be. You'd think by now she'd have experience in shutting her own mind up. If only it was as simple as thinking so.

I'm getting a headache. Merle raised a weary hand to her throbbing forehead. With another sniffle, Aero shifted to sit on the bed. It creaked even with her slight weight. Luckily, she sat in time. A wave of a Dead-Color crashed around her senses, washing the world gray.

A Dead-Color? What is this, one every single week?

"Pretty Cure! Primer and Gloss!" The transformation washed over Merle, replacing her weary body with a light blue uniform. "The Color of the unforgiving Earth! Cure Aero." Aero threw her hands up, posing while laying back on the bed. It was a little awkward, even more so because she was alone in her room, but it was a part of the transformation.

The window opened with a squeak. She'd have to check the springs later. Jumping down, Aero landed light as a feather. Ever since Clancy had done it that one day, Aero found herself exiting the dorm room in similar fashions. There was a tug in her gut, pulling her towards the main building of school. Aero raced down the brick road, zipping past fallen bodies. Where was the Dead-Color? Monochrome's emissaries?

Or him, himself…

She entered the main school building, following the tug in the pit of her stomach. It lead her further and further down the halls and towards the technology sector of the school. Different sections of the school were referred to different 'sectors'. The halls in the back on the second floor was the technology section, all the computer labs being housed there. It was a surprise when Blackwell got them, Aero remembered that summer fondly. She'd been hoping that they'd get computer classes, but doubted it since the academy was so old.

Sylvia? Aero stopped running, spying the dorm manager slumped against the lockers. Her neck jutted at an awkward angle looking incredibly uncomfortable. Aero kneeled down, adjusting her limp head and laid her down. Sylvia's face was slack looking almost asleep. Yet, something about her made Aero's stomach fall. Maybe because she's completely gray.

After fixing Sylvia, Aero stood. She didn't know where to go any longer as the pull lead here. Looking around, there was no obvious Dead-Color. The postures taped to the walls were still there, gray-scaled but full, and there was no missing pieces. Even the design painted along the bricks were still there.

Where are they?

The question was quickly answered. Walking out one of the many classrooms was Tessur followed by Monochrome. He's here again? Aero frowned. Before she knew it, she'd taken a step back.

"Ready?" Tessur looked up to Monochrome. His eyes narrowed when Monochrome gave a slight head nod.

What was going on? Aero dropped into a fighting stance.

"Strip away your soul." Tessur extended a fist, his gaze darkening. As it slowly opened a green glow emitted. "Rise and be reborn."

Is that? Aero froze, eyes transfixed on the light from his hand. That's—

"Dead-Color!" The Pigment was thrown forward. It flew before reaching its highest point and hung there. A green glow bathed the hallway, impossibly bright. Both Tessur and Aero flinched back. She held a gloved arm up to block most of the glow, but even then had to squint to look in its general direction. The Pigment was smaller and jagged than the one that hung around her neck, looking like a single shard.

There was the wave of a Dead-Color being born once again, this time strong enough to send Aero to the ground. A paint smell filled the air as if a fresh coat had just been painted, thick enough to taste. Static danced along her tongue as if an aftertaste.

The slap of wet fabric filled the silent hall; slap after slap, step after step, until it appeared. A wolf on two legs lumbered out of the room Tessur and Monochrome had entered from. The fur was dripping wet, a disgusting mix of gray and green marring the tiles. It approached the Pigment, one large paw reaching upwards. The glow dimmed and was soon gone, engulfed by the Dead-Color. But, the hall never returned to a steel gray, the atmosphere remained a dull green just a shade off of colorless.

Instead, it was the Dead-Color that changed. The green amplified in the strands of its fur, its eyes becoming a vivid poison green.

"What is this?" Aero took another step back. Pigments could be corroded, she knew this by experience, but swallowed by Dead-Colors? "What did you do?"

"Amazing. To think it'd amplify its own power with a shard," Tessur spoke at the same time, voice filled with awe. Was he unaware of what was going on as well?

Amplify its own power… so that means it's stronger? Aero's hand curled into a fist, her posture switching to a more defensive pose. If this Dead-Color was stronger that meant she had to play it safe. Overall, it didn't look all that stronger. There was no obvious bulk up, the wolf— or werewolf she supposed by the shorts it wore— was barely bigger than Monochrome. It was hunched over, front claws barely scrapping the tiles below, green liquid dripping down into a puddle.

Aero didn't have to wait long for the first move. Contrary to its first appearance the Dead-Color was not slow. One second it was standing before Tessur, the next it was bearing down. Aero threw her arms up in defense. It was like a battering ram hit her. Her boots skid along the floor, toes digging into the slippery floor.

The Dead-Color swiped with its other claw, barely missing as Aero ducked back.

It's too slippery to move dangerously. With each movement water was scattered around the hall hitting the walls, students and even Aero herself. This didn't affect the Dead-Color at all, it moved with ease, throwing its claws around to try and slice at her.

Aero redirected the next slash, pushing it into the lockers. There was a loud crash as the metal bent, but who cared. It'd just be fixed afterwards. She threw a punch, aiming for its muzzle. The werewolf pulled back, the move whizzing through the air and nothing more. More and more punches and kicks were thrown. Each cut through the air, but never hit the target. The werewolf was too fast, dodging at the right moment.

With every move that Aero made it countered as well. Each punch was met with a swipe or bite. Each kick with a slam. Aero dodged most of them, but the ones she didn't cracked against her body with deadly force. The air was pushed from her lungs. Bones and limbs creaked beneath the brute force.

Damn. Aero ducked beneath another swipe. I need— her boots slipped. She crashed into the ground, head banging hard against the tiles. The werewolf launched into the air, a distorted howl splitting the air. She raised her arms up at the last moment. There was a loud crack followed by a scream.

Pain overrode any other thought. It shot up and down her forearms like liquid fire. The Dead-Color was over her, slamming another hit down. More pain blared. Aero tried to block most of the hits, but it was like trying to stop a falling building. The claws tore into her skin, but no blood welled up.

Aero angled her legs up, landing two successive kicks to the Dead-Color's chest. It winced back, attacks stopping momentarily. It was enough. Aero wriggled out from beneath and ran. She stumbled, upper body in horrendous pain.

There was no pounding footsteps behind, no hot breath on the back of her neck. Aero slowed to a stop. She threw her arms up, readying for an attack. Nothing was there. The Dead-Color was still where she left it; hunched over, claws digging into the tiles. Green eyes watched her. No sentience shone except for the need to kill.

Why isn't it giving chase?

"Dead-Color, kill her!" Tessur threw an arm out, trying to command the unruly werewolf. It took a small step forward, body dropping to all fours. The tiles cracked loudly, its nails digging into the floor. A snarl left its maw, distorted and loud.

Aero bent further down, one leg sliding further back. The werewolf shot like a bullet, tearing through the air with a howl. Despite her arms being injured, they still rose, hands curled into fists. It slammed to where she was once standing, shattering the floor. Aero drove a kick into its spine. Static rolled up her leg, similar to when brushing a hand across an old TV.

The Dead-Color howled. The world tilted with a scream.

Aero was flung into the lockers, metal crushing around her body. Pain settled like heavy wings between her shoulder blades, spreading up and down her back. It was hard to focus on anything else. She slipped down onto the wet floor with an equally wet smack.

She didn't get up.

I… can't give up.

Her fingers twitched.

No one else can fight.

A land of sweeping gray and sleeping people. Earth couldn't become like that. But, her body wasn't responding. Her head tilted upwards, the only move she could make. Saliva dripped from the Dead-Color's maw, settling in a pool below. It stepped forward slowly, hungrily.

I can't move.

Aero tried to dig up any energy, but couldn't feel any. Her mind screamed for her to do something, but her body refused.

I have to do something…

Anything.

It dawned on her. Nothing. She could do nothing. The Dead-Color would tear into her and she wouldn't be able to do a thing. She was too tired, too beaten up. A yawning pit opened beneath her stomach, despair welling forth like a bubble up her throat. It hurt to breathe, hurt to lay her head down on the cool tile. This was the end, just as she predicted. A Dead-Color towering over her immobile body.

Of course it'd be like this. She just wasn't cut out to be a cure. The true ones were already gone, destroyed.

I'm sorry.

The Pigment began to glow, bright blue like a summer sea. She didn't notice.

There was a flash of brown at the corner of her eye. Aero barely turned when there was a screech like a bird. Something shot directly into the Dead-Color's face, clawing with a loud yowl. Wings fluttered in the air, gold feathers glowing.

"…Grif?" The name felt foreign around her tongue.

Grif, the guardian of the Pigments was tearing into the Dead-Color. They ducked and weaved around its claws, too fast and small to be swatted. Their beak buried into its nose, drawing a burst of green liquid.

"Aero!" They shouted. They pulled back, claws glistening green with the foreign liquid.

The Dead-Color howled pawing at its face.

"How are they here?" Tessur yelled. He took a step forward, eyes lit with fury. "How did they get out of the prisons?" He turned to Monochrome who looked impassive as ever.

Grif floated in the air, never answering. They peered down at Aero with warm brown eyes, a curve to their beak reminiscent of a smile. "Aero, you've done your best. Just as always."

Tears threatened to fall. The despair creeping up began to fall away, settling back in her stomach. Grif was back. They'd somehow gotten out of Monochrome's grasp. A sob tore from her throat. She couldn't believe what she was seeing, some part of her still in disbelief. But, hearing their voice concreted what she saw. A shaky hand was raised to touch them.

"You have to pull yourself together now."

How were they here? Is… Clancy here? Aero found the energy to sit up, leaning heavily on the damaged lockers. There was no one else in the hallway. No shining red Cure, no friendly face with the brightest silver eyes she'd ever seen. Only they escaped? Why… why only them?

"Aero." Her name snapped her from her thoughts. Grif fluttered in the air looking down at her. "Dead-Color first, we can do this together."

Together? When was the last time she'd fought with someone? It's been a while. Though her body screamed and complained, Aero tried to stand. Grif could only do so much, she'd have to stop sitting around and help. Yet her legs just slammed back into the floor.

Grif's eyes flickered down at the noise, growing round.

"The Pigment—"

They never got to finish.

The Dead-Color backhanded Grif.

The world hung colorless and silent. A sick crack broke the stillness, Grif slamming into the dent Aero had made earlier. Her eyes widened as the griffon hit the ground, body slumped. "Grif." She called them, voice wavering.

They weren't moving.

"Grif?" Aero called again, voice breaking. The tears fell openly, blurring the world. No. No this couldn't be happening. Not like this. Not when she'd just got them back. Her gloved hand rested on a bent wing, fingers trembling. Tears fell from her face, landing on the broken feathers. "Please."

They were breathing. A slight shudder reverberated against her hand. Aero sniffled, a relieved sob getting caught in her throat. They were breathing. They were alive. More sniffles and smothered cries filled the air. Not loud enough to cover the 'disgusting' that someone said.

Aero's body moved on its own. Her legs trembled to standing position, hands balled into fists, nails digging into her gloves. Her body was cold, insides hollow. It felt like a single breeze could blow straight through her. Who said that? Her gaze bored straight towards Monochrome and Tessur. Which one of them would dare to say that?

The Dead-Color started forward, snarl ripping the air. Aero let it come towards her, sliding one foot back. She turned at the last second thrusting her palm forward. It slammed directly into the werewolf's chest. Static rolled back across her arm feeling as if the limb had fallen asleep. Her foot snapped into the same spot, digging into the fur. It was shot directly upward, crashing through the roof. Plaster and dust rained down on Aero, but she barely felt it.

Before it could begin to fall, Aero shot up. Her other leg shot up connecting with a snap. More of the ceiling tore at the force. Her hands grabbed its fur, tearing into its flesh and it had torn into hers. She twisted in the air, dragging the werewolf around before throwing it into the ground.

Her mind had disconnected from her body, it felt like she was watching from behind her own eyes. There was a calmness that had settled washing a cold stream through her veins. None of the previous pain lingered, washed away. Both of her heels dug into the Dead-Color's chest as she rocketed down.

The Dead-Color was screaming distorted and ugly. Spittle flew from its teeth, covering the floor along with the disgusting green liquid it secreted. Aero didn't care. This thing had hurt Grif. Broken their body with a single hit. It had hurt the students around, draining their emotions and leaving them emotionless husks. Aero couldn't allow that. She was not fit to be a cure, but she had to do what she could.

So no one gets hurt like this again. So no one has to feel that despair and sadness. It felt like someone scooped her insides out. The hollowness consuming everything that Aero could offer. No one deserved to feel like that. Not due to some B-rated monster!

Aero kicked the werewolf, launching it down the hall.

Not due to some aliens warring over stupid rocks!

The Pigment hung around her neck grew brighter. Light blue energy cascaded down her form like a waterfall. It filled the void inside, rushed over all senses. Aero grabbed the Pigment as if in prayer, light bleeding through her fingers in thick rays. She was holding back the sea with her mere fingers, feeling the hurricane of pure emotions crash against her skin. It pulled, threatening to yank her backwards and into its torrent.

Aero's grip tightened, tears threatening to fall. Sadness, depression, misery. It tore through as a storm, washing any other emotion away. The world was blue, a bright blue of the sea in sunlight despite the feelings. Eventually they ebbed like a wave, the light pulling the darkness far, far away. Serenity. Calmness. Tranquility. Understanding. They fell like a gentle hand on her shoulder, holding Aero back from the torrent.

The waves ebbed off into the emotional horizon, dragging the blue atmosphere with it. Aero let go of the Pigment her hands stretching forward as if chasing it.

"The Pigment that stills the heart," she spoke calmly, but with steel behind her voice.

The Dead-Color was up once more. It tore through the hallway towards her.

Ink spilled around her hands, collecting into a long, liquid-y pole.

"Aero Maze."

The ink solidified into a large pen looking spear. It was bright blue and almost as long as Aero herself. She spun it once around her wrist before lightly pressing it against the ground. Blue ink spat out in a wave of straight lines. They shot across the floor, faster than the werewolf could run. The ink spat upwards becoming 3D. Poles of ink connected, caging the Dead-Color in its grasp. It slammed against the bars, howling discordantly, but they never gave.

"The Pigment that tranquilizes the heart." Aero spun the pen-spear once more, the form shifting to a large pencil. She pointed it directly at the Dead-Color, code already coiled around the point. "Aero Recode."

It burst forth in blue, chaining the Dead-Color together. Color returned to its skin, the greenish gray becoming a moonlight silver. The poison green in its eyes melted to gold, the anger and hatred become soft. Like every time before, as the code faded, the Dead-Color swelled. It popped, destroying the ink cage with color and coating the hall. The green atmosphere began to fade, color returning.

"Hey," Aero said, steel still in her voice. There was no anger, no resentment, only a firmness she wasn't used to.

Tessur's eyes were narrowed, jaw tight. His whole body was wound up, ready to launch at a second. Monochrome looked the picture of relaxed if not for the level look he was giving her. A shiver ran down her spine, but Aero pushed it away.

"The only disgusting thing around here is how you think you can take people's emotions away." The words fell easily, the dam holding her emotions broken with the storm. "I may not be a good cure… no I'm terrible at it. But, you keep hurting those who can't even defend themselves and I'll be there to protect them." She stood straighter, chin raised in defiance. "Because I'm in the position to help and won't stop until this is through." She looked over to Tessur, eyes meeting his. "And I will get Clancy back and stop you all."

It was reaffirming her vow. Reaffirming her words to him, and herself, that day.

He simply scowled. There was a shimmer in the air a moment later, his form disappearing. Monochrome lingered, looking at her with a slightly tilted head. His face was unreadable, completely devoid of emotions. Even so, she held his gaze. Another shimmer filled the air.

Like a balloon popping, all the energy and calmness filling Aero whooshed away. She was suddenly aware of her own weight, legs buckling. Her knees slammed into tile, blue energy dissipating around her form.

A slight laugh left her tired lips as she careened forward. Luckily, Merle caught herself before her head could slam into the fixed floor. The world was spinning, black dots dancing at the edge of her vision. Even so, she pulled up the last of her strength and pulled herself up. She tilted, almost falling once more, but stumbled onwards.

She cradled Grif in her arms, holding them close to her chest. She had to get them back to her dorm before everyone woke up and all hell broke loose. She took another step forward when something glimmered in the corner of her eye. On the ground lay a small green fragment.

The Pigment!

She picked that up as well, dangerously close to falling again.

There was a slight mummer that filled the air, students beginning to stir. Merle dragged her feet, focusing on getting home.

Clancy sat bundled in the blankets. She despised how they came here, but if she didn't want to freeze to death in the night would have to use them. Her fingers although numb ran over the ridges of her embroidered name. This blanket was the one she kept at the foot locker in front of her bed. That meant Etihvv would have had to run over to the Pretty Cure base and up to the cadets room. Then drag it all the way back here.

'You would have done the same,' the words tossed after the blanket haunted Clancy. She at first vehemently denied it. Of course she wouldn't have destroyed another world, undermined a whole planet she considered her home. But, the more she denied it the more her insides twisted.

All this thinking had made her tear into her shirt, the holes becoming so large it was unwearable. She had pulled and threaded all the strands until it was unrecognizable as an article of clothing. Even so, she couldn't thread her thoughts together.

She would do anything for her home. She had scavenged in a destroyed city for months while figuring her powers out. Chased down the ones responsible for the destruction to a whole new planet who knew nothing about this. She'd brought Merle into this mess which she had no part in. Had completely ignored Grif in search for the Pigment Cleanser. Had thrown away Merle's friendship for one last look at her best friend.

And Clancy knew in the darkest parts of her heart that she'd be willing to throw away more if it meant that the Land of Canvases had the chance to be restored. She'd destroy Monochrome, kill him if he begged for mercy. Would tear through Tessur and Anneis with her Flash Point. Had tried to already.

If it was for the Land of Canvases… Clancy wasn't sure how far she'd be willing to go. Just thinking about it made her fingers weave into the comforter. Holes had already been torn by her fingernails. It'd be the next thing to be destroyed for some semblance to come to her mind.

There were footsteps down the hall, echoing in the silence. No one had talked to her in a week. When she woke there was a cold meal placed in reach, but no person. Just the one meal for the day. Clancy's weight had dropped, her stocky form whittling down despite her best efforts. She still attempted to do work outs; pushups and sit ups every morning and night, but could barely do ten reps.

Etihvv entered her view. Compared to all the previous visits, there was no jaunty attitude or a jump in their step. Their face was set in stone, gaze never meeting hers. One hand was curled around the guard of their sword, thumb tapping against the hilt. What had them so anxious?

"Grif is gone."

Grif… was gone?

"What—"

"Cell was broken through. Make what you will of it." Etihvv finally gave her a look. Their eyes were serious, mouth a firm line. As they turned to leave they tapped their sword.

Clancy never got another word out. By the time a question was formulated, Etihvv was gone.

Afterword: I have listened to the Killers croon "everything will be alright" for at least six hours while writing this, even when everything is not alright in the story. You can also tell the part I was actually excited to write (hint: It's better written) even if this chapter is a little shorter than usual.

As always, leave a comment, constructive criticism, or any kind of review!