Pacifica held onto Dipper tightly as she looked out of the window into the clodded dirt and slabbed concrete ceiling of the Crawlspace. She had no idea how he managed to sleep knowing that all of this was happening, but then - it was Dipper. He had seen so much weird stuff that raising the dead was probably a standard Tuesday.

Wait, he had risen the dead.

Man. Her boyfriend was a freak.

It was almost permanently dark underground, and with only the soft glow of yellow street lights on the golden paving, it was impossible to tell what time it was. Ford had insisted on no electronics just in case the Government were watching. Pacifica doubted that cops had that kind of technology, but who was she to argue with an ever-so-slightly-out-of-touch genius?

She bit her lip and adjusted her hair, which felt increasingly dirty after so many days without a proper shower. She often ended up feeling a little bit out of it after going without her all-important hygiene, but what really resonated? She felt filthy with shame, too.

She hunched her knees under her chin as she listened to the tenement's unworldly breaths and pulsating structure creaking, groaning, cracking….

It just made her think about how her ancestor was doing that in the Northwest laboratory. Had her family really become so demented over their need to control her? Hasn't her mother stepped in to hold back her father's excess? Was this - was this really what they saw as reasonable? Were they really both crazy?

How were they meant to - meant to compute all of this? How were they meant to handle it? It seemed impossible. She had plenty of faith - plenty of trust in the company she was keeping. She would put her life in their hands, without hesitation. But she just wasn't sure if the Pines had the necessary power to put all of this right. Not permanently. Would this be it? Would this be her long-term future, a sort of crooked navigation through the sins of her family?

She shuddered. Partially from disgust, partially from the cold, and held Dipper's hand, casting her eye over the awkward, sweaty and somewhat pigeon-chested kid that had become - through hook, crook, ghost or horror - her boyfriend. She was pretty sure he was, if anything, the closest she had ever had to a soulmate.

There'd been plenty of times she'd had crushes. Who hadn't? She was always mature for her age, and everybody knows that crushes are, like, the most mature thing ever. But despite everything, the nervous guy who barely washed his hair and wore some kind of weird vest in the height of summer, he was who she had dedicated to. He was the bravest, funniest, smartest, sweetest guy she'd met…

And thanks to her being interested in him, they'd almost died - like - four, five times? Maybe more. Probably more. It was a pretty crazy Summer, and even though her new family constantly rose to the challenge, she couldn't help but feel guilty about causing it all.

She laid back and sighed, fighting off the temptation to apologise to him - for everything - but the thought didn't last very long. A deep, shuddering yawn overtook her, and before she had but a moment to fight off the tendrils of fatigue, her eyelids shut, and she felt herself fade into darkness.

The darkness enveloped her in swirling, purple patterns of what could only be judged as cosmos and galactic eternity. She sleepily glanced around her, and found - below her feet, a bird's eye view of Gravity Falls. A miniaturised, tilt-shifted glance at the town she had always known and - albeit begrudgingly - loved.

She gasped and tried to steady herself as she hovered above, floating in a strange gap that filtered and flitted between time and space. Almost as if she was a speck of polystyrene in one of those tacky, tacky snowglobes.

…Without it looking like it had been painted by a sweatshop worker with no thumbs.

"Pacifica Northwest. Pac- sorry, Pacifica? Really?"

"W-whoa-" was the only reply, as the giant pink amphibian floated through the eternal swathe of emptiness and stardust, his twinkling tadpole tale whipping up the clouds like soft-serve ice cream. "What the-"

"Your name is like…the world's lamest pun. What is it with you Gravity Falls kids having dumb names?"

Pacifica just stared, her jaw slack. The creature moved with such grace, yet an utter lack of tact or thought. He leaned down and ate up a piece of sky-detritus with a single blep of his enormous, bright red tongue, and stared up at her with black, billiard-ball eyes. Unblinking, yet all-seeing.

She wasn't sure how to speak with him. She wasn't sure if she could. She just watched as his form floated, ethereally, fading through waves of eternity.

"Are-are you-"

"I am no man. I am time and space unbridled. I am the beast that sits in land, water and air of the eternal plains. I am the freshwater beast of all that exists, all that generates, all that dines upon fine aquarium gravel-"

"You also repeat your lines-"

"I paid visit to your boyfriend, and now, I pay visit to you. You are the centre of many desires and conflicts, Northwest child. You are the llama-shaped key to the fate of your world."

"I am so damned sick of llamas."

"Oh come on, everybody loves llamas."

"Look, from what Dipper said, you weren't enormously helpful, so no offence, but-"

"I am not here to be helpful. I observe you like bacteria in a petri dish that swarms and multiplies in a drop of water. You are my eternal soap opera. But I want the drama to end slightly more positively if we can help it. I mean, a season finale that ends with the villains winning? Nobody wants that. Right? Maybe edgy kids online who have parental issues."

"...Right…"

She waved her arms uselessly in the eternal emptiness and tried, in vain, to gain a control in her slow, graceless float through the air - tried to swing her arms and swim, tried to balance herself, tried to kick herself forward.

It was fruitless. Perhaps only typical that a Northwest would try to right themselves against unknown forces - a desperate attempt to regain dignity? She found herself judging her own actions constantly these days…

She looked once again at the bog-eyed, but irresistibly innocent-looking Axolotl that floated above her. It had a natural ability to raise peace within her, to calm her and stop her worries. The scent that surrounded them was like cotton candy and raspberry, a persuasive liquor of intoxicating scenes that seemed to pervade her senses, reminding her of her more naive moments of childhood. As much as she wanted to fear him, she couldn't.

As much as she wanted to sass him, she… couldn't.

The enormous creature licked the edges of its lipless mouth as that silky, smooth voice continued.

"I see the road on which you stand,
A sharp-turn crossroads is at hand.
You feel that you have made your choice,
That the llama has finally found her voice.

The correct pick, you're sure to make,
But please, ensure it's for your sake.
It may be tempting to try and deceive,
For the others that you wish to please.

Do you miss the satin sheets?
Living far from crooked streets?
Dislike the smell of bacon grease?
Or running from the town's police?

A more stressful life, is that for you?
Or could it be that's just not true?
Can you really, truly say,
You don't wish for a different way?

I believe in the new you, young sheep,
But blood runs further than skin-deep,
If your family is on the brink,
Will you sign in more than ink?"

Pacifica blinked as the enormous, slippery creature went quiet and stared at her, blankly.

She blinked. He blinked.

"Is… is that it?"

"There's not much else to say."

"You're just being weird and vague. I've already made my choice. I know what I have to do. I know who I want to spend my life with. I just-"

"Specifics are difficult in rhyme. The decision shan't be so simple as you think."

"And you?"

"I'll be watching. I'm always watching."

"Kinda creepy."

"Not as creepy as your boyfriend's internet history."

"Huh?"

"Farewell, Pacifica Northwest."

"Hey! Hey, hey, hey! I'm not-"

Her eyes shot open. Back in the tower block. Back in the sleeping bag. Back in Dipper's arms. She took a deep breath and stared up at the pulsating, bulging, throbbing ceiling. Took in the hollow sounds of The Crawlspace. Listened to the snoring of her new family.

She had just met the damned Axolotl. The giant…frickin'...newt that apparently watched over all of them. The one that had given Bill Cipher a limestone prison. The one that, to all intents and purposes, was aware of the past, present and future…

…And right now, she was more curious about Dipper's internet history.