-'s POV

I needed answers.

Dread pooled in my stomach as I marched through the empty halls I was forever cursed to walk through. My footsteps were silent, but I had grown used to that fact by now. It made the entire situation feel so much more ethereal.

With my silent footsteps, the only sounds to be heard for miles were distant wind, battering invisible walls and slipping through paper-thin cracks, and the impossibly faint but ever-present sound of music. There were legends about the echoes of the music. I had heard whispered rumors of the music driving people insane, of its presence meaning certain death. If you heard the ragtime tune, your end was only around the corner.

I snorted in amusement at that thought. Perhaps already being dead meant you were immune to the music's curse. To me, it was just a nuisance nagging at the back of my mind.

If I followed the grinding notes, I would eventually find myself at Maxwell's feet. I had found myself there too many times already. Listening, always listening. Absorbing what information I could. While dream-stepping was not something I had the power to do myself, perhaps the next time Charlie's presence was requested I would have something important to share with them. Something that could turn the tides.

The thought of the woman sent a twinge of annoyance through my chest, and I marched faster along. I tried to ignore Them watching me from all sides. Eyes blinked lazily, watching my path, certainly preparing to report any suspicious activities to Nightmare. Luckily, even though I had only been here for about two weeks, Charlie had already shown me the one place They never dared tread. It was where I figured she would be now.

I called it the Prison. It was hidden in the shadows, impossible to see unless you knew exactly what you were looking for. With my prior knowledge, I immediately found the entrance and stepped inside, leaving Their prying eyes behind a door that was far too heavy for its size.

Distant whimpering came to my attention, but I tried to brush it off. They stayed far away from this place, but that didn't make it any more welcoming. The lighting was dim, and it only illuminated the areas around the walkway, leaving the path itself completely dark. It was as if each of the cages lining the hall had its own little spotlight, just bright enough to cast shadows and reveal their shapes, but not enough to provide proper vision.

Whispers crowded around me, tones ranging anyway from curious to furious.

"Who is that?"

"Look at that wound. He's a Survivor."

"Why isn't he trapped as well?"

"Hey buddy, wanna let me out, myeh? I promise I'll make it worth your while~"

"Let me out let me out lET ME OUT!"

I hated it in here, almost as much as I hated being under Their watch, but this was where Charlie was much of the time when not dragged into dirty deeds by her other half.

Surely enough, I found the woman crouched in front of one of the cages, inside of which held the source of the whimpering. A small shape was curled in the center of the cage, hands clasped over the sides of its head as it cried out in pain and misery.

"Please, please, friends are hurting. Let me help! Please, I hurt too. Friends hurting hurt me. Please please please-"

"CHARLIE," I called sharply before she could respond to the figure. The woman glanced at me, face creasing in concern, before shaking her head at me quickly and turning her attention back to the creature.

"I know, I know. I promise, those things aren't happening anymore, Wormwood. You're okay, it's not real, it's not happening right now."

The creature uncurled just enough for clawed hands to grab at its chest, where it looked like a massive crater had been torn into its green skin. If my own experience applied here, that had been the wound to kill it.

"Friends, can save friends. Wortox! Wilba! Let me help-"

"WX, you shouldn't be here," Charlie said softly, hand still between the bars of the cage and resting on the creatures head. When she gently stroked its forehead, it leaned into her touch like a cat, choking on sobs and pleas. "I promise, I'll be out in a bit. Wormwood is having some... troubles again, today."

"YOU ARE NOT MY SUPERIOR," I huffed. "I SHALL GO WHERE I WANT."

"Well, actually, yes I am. And fine, if you want to be in the most miserable place in existence, then be my guest. Just don't blame me if they start getting violent."

I glanced back down the corridor, noticing dozens of eyes watching me. The cages were made with thin golden bars and suspended a few feet off of the ground. There was no ceiling that could be seen, so they appeared to float in mid air. Each cage held a prisoner, each sporting brutal wounds or trophies of harsh climates. A young woman clutched her abdomen, where a massive wound sliced her nearly in half but ceased to bleed. An imp, the one who had tried to bribe me to let him out, was trying to pick the lock to his cage, but was having tremendous trouble with a broken hand and missing eye.

I turned back to her, trying to block their stares from my mind. "I WISH TO SPEAK WITH YOU."

"Let me guess, about Wilbur?" Charlie sighed. "Unfortunately, WX, that's really not something we can discuss here."

"IS IT SAFE FOR THEM AT ALL ON THE MAINLAND?" I demanded, ignoring her attempt to delay the conversation. "I WILL NOT SENTENCE HIM TO DEATH."

"It's necessary," Charlie responded coolly. Wormwood appeared to be calming down now, drifting off almost under her gentle scratches, and she stood to her full height in preparation to leave. "Trust me when I say we should discuss this outside. The people here are good, but they deeply envy your freedom. I don't want anything bad to happen here. Plus... this is nothing They don't know already."

I nodded once, allowing her to lead me out. Harsh whispers followed me, some commenting on the freedom I had that they were denied, others commenting about the hole in my chest. A couple tried to talk to me, almost like starting an actual conversation, but I responded to none of them. They were Survivors once, just like me, but Charlie was right in saying they envied my position.

Why am I free? Why are they trapped after death and I am simply allowed to roam with Charlie?

As soon as the room was behind us, Charlie let out a heavy sigh. Her shoulders drooped, as if carrying the weight of the world, which she likely was. "This is how things have to be. He won't die on the Mainland, I promise."

"WHAT IF THEY DON'T GO?" I argued. "WHY DOES THE WORLD HAVE TO RESET?"

Around us, They shifted. The eyes in the darkness sharpened, and anger rippled through Them.

"We live in a neverending cycle, WX-78," Charlie said. "Again and again and again, these things have to happen. Around and around the timeline goes. There is no 'what if's. It will happen."

"DOES FREE WILL MEAN NOTHING?"

"Free will means nothing in the grand scheme of things. You had free will. You had a choice, and you chose to give your life for Webber. Nobody forced you to do that. It just happens that that was exactly what the timeline needed to happen."

I bristled.

"There's no reason to ponder about different decisions. They simply would not have happened. Maybe if they had, the timeline would have broken. I assure you, WX-78, this is the best timeline."

"WHAT AWAITS THEM ON THE MAINLAND?"

"I don't know."

"HOW CAN YOU NOT KNOW?" I protested. "IF THIS SERIES OF EVENTS HAS ALREADY PLAYED OUT, THEN WHY CAN YOU NOT JUST TELL US HOW THIS ENDS?"

"Because I don't know. I can't see events that have yet to happen in this timeline." Charlie pressed her hand against her forehead as if trying to stave off a headache.

"WHY IS WEBBER THE ONE THAT HAS TO TAKE THE NIGHTMARE THRONE? IT COULD BE ANYONE ELSE. WHY HIM?"

"He's something more than the others. You should know that."

"HE'S A CHILD," I snapped. "WHY COULD IT NOT BE WILSON? OR WINONA? OR EVEN WILBUR?"

"That's not a question I can answer," Charlie said. "I don't know, WX."

"THEN WHO CAN ANSWER IT? WHO ARE YOU TO SAY THAT HE HAS TO TAKE THE THRONE?"

"I was not the one who spoke of your destiny." Charlie seemed to be getting annoyed now. Yet, I had a feeling it wasn't me she was getting annoyed with. Perhaps she was just as angry about the future as I was. "If you really want to know the answers to that, the Ancient Guardian is who you would need to speak to."

That gave me pause. Flashes of that final battle appeared in my mind. The crystal clear decision to take that hit, and the blurry memories that followed directly after. The Ancient Guardian was the one to speak of our titles, wasn't he? I shivered at the thought of going back there, of facing the creature that had killed me in the first place.

"I can take you there, if you wish."

"DO IT," I said before I could hesitate. I was not afraid of the Ancient Guardian. Killing me had done nothing but given me a new type of life. I did not hold a grudge for that.

"The Ancient Guardian is the only one who will be able to see you," Charlie warned.

"GOOD." I didn't want to be interacting with anyone else. I had an opportunity to get answers, and I had every intention of getting those answers.

…

It had only been a couple of weeks, but being on the Mainland felt completely foreign to me. I glanced down, noting my transparent skin and the way the grass refused to bend under my weight. I was in the middle of a forest, the canopy above my head so thick that sunlight struggled to puncture it. It would be a bit of a journey to get down to the caves. Why had Charlie dropped me here instead of closer to the Ancient Guardian? I had to shrug the question off- I likely wouldn't be getting a good answer to that.

I moved forward, hoping to find some sort of landmark that I could identify. If I could just figure out where I was, then I could find my way down. I moved my hands to make the motions of pushing bushes and undergrowth out of the way, but I simply passed right through all of it. Things refused to move under my touch.

When I finally broke free of the forest, I immediately recognized the hills in front of me. Holes dotted the landscape, and I remembered a time when my weight had been enough to cause me to fall through the ground here. I found myself snorting in amusement at the memory. Luckily, though, that meant I was closer to the labyrinth than I had first thought.

I made the journey in silence. I could hear distant wind far above my head and water dripping somewhere nearby. All around me, creatures thriving in the darkness scuttled across the floor, from hissing spiders to grumbling moleworms.

When I found myself at the labyrinth again, I hesitated. Before, Webber had led us through the maze, eye closed and whiskers trembling furiously. Would I even be able to find my way through the twisting corridors? I brushed my hand against the wall, shivering at the lack of feeling as my hand passed through it-

I nearly facepalmed.

Duh.

I was incorporeal. The walls meant nothing to me.

I pushed my way deeper into the labyrinth, passing through walls as if they didn't even exist. I noticed as the ground grew darker, the streaks of red passing through turning brighter, the static-y feeling of something permeating the air.

I passed through a final wall and found myself in an achingly familiar chamber.

Lit by the glow of hundreds of white flowers stood the Ancient Guardian.

He was missing an eye now, I noticed immediately, a scar gained from our battle. In the moments before he noticed me, I was able to take in his appearance, so different from the last time I laid 'eyes' on him. His fur was no longer gray, and was instead a sandy tan shade. He had pupils, or, a pupil rather, constricted against the light of the flowers. His horn was a polished silver, and his fur seemed to glimmer in the lights. No longer was this a creature consumed by darkness, this was a creature who had been completely purified. A creature once soaked in shadows that now thrived in the light.

"Greetings, Martyr."

The Ancient Guardian did not look at me. Did not even seem to outwardly acknowledge my presence. Yet his voice rang clear and true, echoing in the stony cave.

"I did not expect to see you again."

"I DID NOT EXPECT TO BE HERE AGAIN."

As I spoke, he turned to face me. He had a certain youthful appearance, something that I wouldn't expect for someone quite literally called 'Ancient'.

"You have questions that you believe only I can answer. And... perhaps I can."

I straightened my shoulders, even though I instinctively wanted to shrink away from his gaze. It was hard to be under its scrutiny without remembering the last time we stood face-to-face. "WHAT IS OUR PURPOSE?"

"Your purpose?" He sounded amused. "Is that truly the question you want to ask?"

"YES."

"Your purpose," he said after a long moment. "Is to bring this world to its end."

"WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?"

"To fulfill the destinies laid out for you at the beginning of time."

"ARE YOU ONLY CAPABLE OF SPEAKING IN CRYPTIC PROPHECIES?" I snapped, quickly growing annoyed. "WHY DOES THAT FALL ONTO US? WHY WOULD 'DESTINY' DEMAND A CHILD TO TAKE THE NIGHTMARE THRONE?"

"That is the root of your anger, is it not?" The Ancient Guardian chuckled. "Your anger lies not with me. Not with your destiny. You do not even feel anger about your own fate. Why are you so determined to save the Young Heir?" He shook his head and continued before I could interrupt. "Your purpose has already been fulfilled. Your sacrifice was just the next step in the final journey. It was never your duty to protect the Young Heir. So why, robot, are you so determined to do so?"

I clenched my fists. I struggled to keep my arms from shaking as I replied. "I CARE FOR HIM. HE WAS... MY FRIEND. HE CALLED ME HIS FAMILY."

"You are just a robot," he pointed out. He still sounded sharply amused. "You were not built to have friends or family. You were built to die, Martyr."

"YOU ARE WRONG... BUT I WILL NOT ARGUE WITH YOU. I WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAS TO HAPPEN TO STOP THIS. I DO NOT WANT WEBBER ON THE NIGHTMARE THRONE."

"Then prepare to be disappointed."

I glared daggers at the Ancient Guardian, daring him to continue. Charlie had insisted that it was impossible to stop this, and now even the Ancient Guardian was implying that. A small, nagging feeling of doubt chewed at the back of my mind.

Maybe they're right.

Maybe that's simply the way this has to end.

I closed my 'eyes' for a long moment, then turned on my heel to leave. I had no further business with the Ancient Guardian, then, if that was how this conversation was to pan out.

"Martyr, wait."

I paused, but did not turn to face him.

"The future is hazy. Uncertain. Perhaps it can be changed, if the Young Heir's determination ends up stronger than fate itself. If you must depart, at least accept an apology from me."

That was enough to catch my attention once more. The Ancient Guardian had produced an amulet, which laid at its feet. His gaze was steady on me, and he used the tip of his horn to push it closer to me. I took it by the chain, dangling the bright stone in front of my 'eyes' to get a better look. It was red, but not the kind of red that makes you think of passion and love. It was a deep red, the red of blood and infected wounds. The kind of red that stains a grisly battlefield, or drips out of a slit throat and takes all life along with it. Simply holding the amulet made me think of violence and bloodshed.

And yet, it pulsed with a sort of hope. The run rising after a night of terror. An ecosystem that survived off of the corpse of a dead animal.

Immediately, I was reminded of the amulet that Webber now wore, in the way that this was its complete opposite.

"A life-giving amulet," The Ancient Guardian explained softly. "Raw life force... and an infinitely powerful tool. One of the only known ways of cheating death."

I clutched the chain harder, and my hand shook under the pressure.

"It will not work on you," he continued as if noticing my reaction. "You have no life to give. Yet... perhaps, it will aid you in the future nonetheless."

I took a step forward, the necklace still dangling from my hand. Flowers sprouted all around me.

"I truly believe, Martyr, that if anyone can change the tides, it is your group."

Another step. Another explosion of flowers. They stretched beyond my peripheral vision, bursting from the ground triumphantly and quickly consuming the white light that previously bathed the chamber.

"After all."

I plucked one of the flowers, holding it gingerly between two fingers. It was blue and glowed softly. Its petals drooped dramatically, forming shapes that resembled raindrops falling to the ground. I pulled it closer towards myself. The simple act of holding it seemed to form so many emotions within my chest, as if the flower itself was a wellspring of bittersweet loss.

"The fate of the world lies in your hands."