The alien spaceship was, well, alien to Dipper. Stanford was between him and the only exit he knew about, so Dipper was forced to find another way out. He let his instincts tell him which way to turn at intersections, and so far, he felt pretty let down—nothing but long corridors and empty rooms.

Dipper slowed down and leaned against a wall.

He couldn't hear footsteps, but it was hard to hear anything over his ragged breathing. I have to stop treating this place like a maze, he thought. Somebody, or something, designed this ship. They must've built this layout on purpose.

"Maybe the purpose is to confuse an intruder," Dipper muttered, before shoving the thought out of his head. He had to think positively. If he were to design a giant spaceship, he would want some kind of sign that pointed to the emergency exits. Airplanes had signs on the ceiling and floor level, but that level of thought may be above whoever built the spaceship.

Or maybe not. They'd built a spaceship, after all. Not many humans could say they'd done the same.

There was a small pink sign to his right, and Dipper could make out another one further down the hall. With nothing else to go on, he started jogging again. Was the sign powered by some kind of generator, or was it some sort of naturally-fluorescent material? If it was the former, that was one hell of a generator. If it was the latter, or something else entirely, Dipper was even more curious. There was so much unknown technology that it almost made him forget why he was running.

Almost.

What would happen to him if Stanford caught up to him? Would the old man really erase his memory? Dipper had thought they had been on the same page, but maybe that was just a façade.

What else had Stanford lied about?

The thought stayed at the front of his mind until the hallway ended at a door. It had a circular window in the center, and through it, Dipper saw dirt. His heart sank. The exit must be buried into the ground. He'd have to find another way out.

But, as Dipper pondered his next move, he realized the floor was tilted. The door was higher than the way he had come from, which meant that the exit couldn't be pointing into the earth. It was probably just a thin layer of debris that he could dig through.

He opened the hatch. There was a slight hiss before the door slid inwards. Dipper looked around for a shovel-like object before using his hands to start clawing away at the earth. Thankfully, the dirt was fairly moist and loose. Before too long, he could feel the dirt moving out of the way of his hands, like trying to tear through an unblown balloon. He was almost out of there, and he took a quick break to let his hands rest.

And that's when he heard it.

Faint footsteps. Stanford was almost here.

Dipper attacked the dirt with renewed vigor. He had to remember what was happening. If his great-uncle got a clear line of sight, then the Mewmans were doomed.

"I just want to talk." Stanford's voice echoed from down the hall.

Dipper didn't bother responding. Instead of using his hands to claw the dirt away, he started ramming his shoulder into it. The grass's roots formed a skin over the door's exit that he had to smash through.

"Dipper, please." The voice was louder this time. Like it was just around the corner.

"It's too late," Dipper called back.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Dipper took four steps back and sprinted at the exit. He burst through the remaining few inches of dirt and into the sun's rays. . . and that's when he realized this exit was on the cliff side of the hill.

Stanford's cry was cut short as Dipper dropped 20 feet to the clearing beneath him. His left foot hit the ground first, and it gave out instantly.

His pained scream was cut short as his chest hit the ground. It sounded more like a cough as the wind was knocked out of him.

Dipper wasn't out of the woods yet, though. Well, metaphorically speaking. He actually needed to go into the woods so that his great-uncle wouldn't be able to hit him with the memory gun, and there was no time to waste

Dipper let out a hiss as he put weight on his left foot. It wasn't broken, but it was definitely injured. He started limping his way toward the Mystery Shack and let out a sigh of relief when he was surrounded by trees.

There was no way Stanford would make that jump. His body wouldn't be able to take it. The old man would be forced to make his way back to the main exit at the top of the hill before making it down the other, less steep side. That gave Dipper a slight advantage, even if he was moving slower now.

Unless he knew about a different exit. Stanford had spent way more time in that spaceship than Dipper.

Well, that was assuming Stanford would even chase after him. He might decide to stay behind and program the killer robots, but Dipper wasn't sure where his great uncle's priorities lay anymore. There was nothing he could do but warn the others now.

Dipper grunted every time he put pressure on his left leg. He should be running back to the Mystery Shack, but he couldn't bring himself to go any faster. He'd only managed to get a quarter of the way back in the last half hour. He was too slow.

If Stanford were looking for him, it wouldn't be long until he was found. Dipper had thought about taking the long way to the Mystery Shack, but that would've taken forever at his current pace. He'd decided to take the gamble he wasn't being followed and take the straightest path.

With every step, he became more and more sure he'd made the right decision, too, until his ears picked up on a faint crunching of leaves.

Dipper hurried off the path and behind a tree. It was just wide enough for him to hide behind.

After a few more seconds, footsteps could be heard. Whoever it was, they were treading very lightly through the area. They had to be familiar with the area, meaning it could only be one of very few people.

Dipper looked around for either a better hiding spot or a big stick. If he managed to surprise Stanford, he might be able to land a blow.

Could he do that, though? Was he the kind of man who could knock out his great-uncle? Hadn't his whole argument been about not fighting violence with violence?

He couldn't hear the footsteps anymore.

Had Stanford stopped to look at the trail? Was the old man looking for clues? Or had he walked right past Dipper while he was lost inside his head?

He squatted down and then peered around the trunk.

The trail was empty.

He let out a small sigh of relief and leaned against the tree. That had been too close for comfort.

"Boo."

Dipper screamed and covered his head with his hands, as if that would stop the memory gun's blasts.

"Dude, chill out," a feminine voice said. "I'm just having a little fun."

"Wendy!" Dipper surged forward and pulled her into a hug.

"It's good to see you, little man."

Even after all this time, she was still wearing that same green flannel and white tank top. Dipper was happy to see she was still wearing his blue trucker hat. He missed that thing and had hoped it hadn't been collecting dust in Wendy's closet.

"I'm so glad you're safe," he said after they separated.

"About that," she said, "do you have any idea what's going on out there? There I was, visiting some relatives in Utah, and suddenly there's a bunch of corn inside the house. Like a literal field of corn. Then there were these weird creatures in the living room that looked just as confused as we were! I made my way back here as soon as I could. I figured that if y'all weren't the one who caused it, you'd at least know how to fix it."

"We didn't cause it, but we are trying to fix it." Dipper looked back the way he came and then motioned for Wendy to follow him. "It's not safe here."

The two of them went off the trail a few yards.

"What's with the limp?" She asked.

"I sprained my ankle jumping out of a spaceship."

Wendy nodded, like that was the most normal reason he could've given. Which, given the adventures the two of them had been on, was a surprisingly normal reason.

They leaned against a fallen tree trunk, and Dipper told her the very condensed version of what he knew. Wendy didn't say anything while he was explaining. She absentmindedly twirled her hatchet around her fingers, taking his words in. She started to frown when he told her about the army of Mewman haters approaching the town.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news," she said once he was done talking, "but I think they're already here."

"What?!"

"Yeah. I was just in town, and there were a bunch of newcomers. I didn't talk to any of them, but they were definitely searching for information and trying way too hard to be subtle about it. They stuck out like a sore thumb."

This was bad.

They had even less time than Dipper had thought. Mabel and the others had to be warned.

They sat in silence as Dipper thought things through.

"Wendy, I need you to get to the Mystery Shack as fast as possible. You have to warn the people there. They need to be prepared."

"Aren't you coming?"

"I'll slow you down." Dipper pointed to his left foot.

"Then there's no time to waste." She stood up and offered Dipper a hand, which he graciously accepted.

"Last I saw," he said, "the defenses were nowhere near completed. They need to recall all of the scouts and focus their attention on fortifications. There's no telling how long it'll be until Mina attacks."

She nodded. It reminded him of how a soldier nodded at a command their superior officer gave.

Was Dipper a General? He didn't want to think about it.

"I know a thing or two about setting traps, and we could cut down a few trees to form walls. That way, we could stop ourselves from being surrounded."

"You're a genius."

"Nah, just a Corduroy," she said. "I'll wait for you back at the shack."

"I'm not going back, not yet, at least," he said. "We're not too far from the Manotaurs' lair, and we could use all the help we can get."

Wendy let out a low whistle.

"This is going to be sick."

She pulled Dipper into a quick hug before turning around, but Dipper grabbed her arm before she could leave.

"There's one more thing I need you to do for me," he said.

"Name it."

"I need you to tell them not to trust Stanford if he shows up."

"Why not?"

"I don't have the time to explain it fully, but he has his own plan to stop what's happening in the world, and it's not a pretty solution. He's going to use alien robots as a deterrent. I tried to stop him, I did, but I failed."

"But isn't he your family?" Wendy asked. "You know how much family means to Mabel."

"And I'm her brother. There's no one she trusts more than me," he said. "Hopefully."

"You're sure we can't talk him out of his plans?"

Dipper ran his hand through his hair before shaking his head.

"No," he decided. "And I don't think you should give him the chance to say anything if you see him. You'll have to get the others to believe you. Tell them Stanford erased all of our minds at the last meeting. He manipulated the meeting to make it go the way he wanted it to go. He can't be trusted. When you find Mabel, you have to tell her that this isn't like what happened with Stanley last summer. Stanford is not the man we thought he was."

Wendy's eyes widened, but she nodded.

"Understood. Good luck, Dipper."

She hugged him one more time, and then she was gone.

Dipper sighed. He'd dreamt of reuniting with Wendy so many times while in California, and that wasn't how any of them went. Still, he couldn't help the warm feeling rising in his chest when she hugged him.

He knew it wouldn't work out, and that she was too old for him, but logic had never mattered to his heart before, and it wouldn't start listening anytime soon.

He started limping toward the manotaurs' lair. One problem at a time, he thought. One problem at a time.

(line break)

Wendy hardly recognized the area surrounding the Mystery Shack. She hadn't even been gone that long. A few weeks, at most, and now the area looked like it'd been given a proper Home Alone treatment.

Thin metal lines were strung between trees at ankle level. Some were connected to an air horn, and some looked to be there only to trip up the enemy. Poorly disguised holes littered the area, too. All in an attempt to slow the enemy down.

It did little to slow her down, though, as she sprinted past them all. She had never been more glad of the training she did for the local lumberjack competitions. These woods were her home, and she'd be damned if she let anyone take them away from her.

She ran by a few game cameras and waved at them. Maybe they'd come from one of Stan's "totally legal" side hustles. She wondered if anyone was looking at them.

When she'd first found out about the collision of worlds, she had been sure Stanford was the reason behind it, but Dipper claimed it was Star and Marco's fault. She'd often wondered what had happened to them after their help saving Gravity Falls from Bill last summer. They'd just kind of disappeared.

Dipper had told her his plan to save Star's mother and their goal to unite the two worlds. She wasn't sure she was totally on board with it yet, but if there were two people she trusted, it was Dipper and Mabel.

Wendy would walk off a cliff blindfolded if they asked her to.

She'd hoped Mabel would be the first person she saw once the shack came into sight. She had missed the girl more than Wendy would ever admit to another living being, but instead, it was her former boss. He was talking to someone on the patio she didn't recognize.

Wendy made eye contact with Stanley and relished the fact that she made him do a spit take of his Pit-Cola.

"Wendy!" Stan pulled her into a hug, before he quickly pushed her away and checked to make sure no one had seen him, which was a little weird considering there was someone right next to them. Must be an old habit, Wendy thought.

"It's, uh, good to see you," he said. "Glad you're not dead."

"Glad you're not dead as well." She punched him lightly on the shoulder before getting straight to business. There wasn't a second to waste. "Dipper sent me ahead to warn y'all that Mina's army is nearby. I saw her scouts in Gravity Falls earlier today."

Stanley turned to the stranger.

"Notify the others, Cubert."

Cubert nodded and headed inside.

"Was Dipper alone?" Stanley asked. "I figured he was on some side off with my brother. Mabel, too; I haven't seen her in a while."

He rubbed his chin, staring behind Wendy at the tree line, as if expecting the trio to appear any moment.

Wendy hesitated. Could she tell him that his brother had gone off the deep end? She remembered Dipper's face, and how serious he had been.

She had to tell Stan; he needed to be prepared.

"He was alone and injured—just a sprained ankle," She added quickly after seeing Stan's face. While Wendy knew the old man would deny it until the day he died, nobody cared about the twins more than he did. "He's going to be fine. He didn't mention Mabel, but he told me to warn y'all that Stanford can't be trusted."

"What did he do this time?" Stan gruffed. His shoulders relaxed now that he knew Dipper was safe, for the moment at least.

"He didn't have time to tell me everything, but I'd never seen him so scared," Wendy said. "He was running away from Stanford when I found him. He screamed when I found him because he thought your brother had caught up to him."

That got Stanley's attention. He stood a little straighter and stared at her.

"He was afraid Ford was going to wipe his memory again," she continued, "so Dipper couldn't warn y'all about his plan to use alien robots or something against the enemy."

"Again?" A familiar voice asked. Wendy hadn't noticed her approach, but there was no mistaking the blonde-haired girl walking up the stairs.

"He said that Stanford had wiped everyone's minds at some meeting."

"I knew something was weird about the way everyone acted!" Star slammed a fist into her palm.

"It's good to see you again," Wendy said. "I assume that means Marco is around here somewhere."

Wendy was surprised to see Star's mood go from bad to worse. She thought the two of them were best friends.

"It's good to see you, too. Though I wish it were under different circumstances," was all she said.

"Hopefully, next time it'll be to grab coffee and not because of a global crisis," Wendy agreed before turning back to Stan. "Do you still have those chainsaws from that stupid fake chainsaw bear exhibit?"

"What do you mean fake?"

Wendy stared at him, and he sighed.

"They're in Dipper and Mabel's old room, why?"

"I'm going to help y'all upgrade your defenses before Mina and her goons arrive," she said, flipping her hatchet in circles.

It was good to be back.

AN: Time is so weird. Before you know it, a month has passed since you published your last chapter. I just wanted to let y'all know that I've written an audio drama that's recently been published. It's called Bloodhaven, and it's on a site called Headfone. It was a super fun adventure, and I'd love it if y'all gave it a listen! Here's the link: . /channel/bloodhaven/.

Now that the self-promotion is over, what did y'all think of the chapter? What do y'all think about the story as a whole? I know my pacing has been all over the place, but I hope it's been an enjoyable ride.

I'll try to have the next chapter up before Christmas, but we all know how life can get. Hope y'all make the most of what's left of 2023, see ya!