Never before had Irys felt what she was feeling as she pushed through the workshop doors. It was as if the weight of the entire universe was being applied to this one place. This one time. Her skin crawled, her ears rang, her heart beat with abnormal force, causing her entire body to tremble. The strain being placed on the fabric of reality was too much.

She glanced back at Sana, and sure enough the speaker was also sweating. She felt it too. That itch too deep to scratch. The tinnitus that faded into the background but never really disappeared. The colors blending, becoming muddier and less distinct by the second.

It didn't take much to convince Amelia of the imminent threat. She cursed and threw herself into her work before Irys could even communicate the full scale of the danger. The device she was so frantically tweaking seemed so small. Would it really be enough to protect her from Kronii's attack?

It didn't take long for Ina to burst through the doors with Gura in tow, but every moment they weren't preparing was a waste. Sana got to work the second Ina caught her breath, walking her through the process of erecting a barrier. Irys chose to believe that their plan would work, but she found it hard to keep her spirits up.

Bae's attention was so firmly locked onto Gura that it almost felt like she was there in the flesh. At the very least, that was confirmation enough that she would attack in concert with the others.

"What about Kiara and Calli?" Irys asked, hoping.

Ina shook her head. "They said they had a plan and went off on their own. We'll have to make do with what we have here."

That was one hope dashed. Irys closed her eyes and took long, considerate breaths. She couldn't afford to get discouraged. Even if a fight was inevitable, she still needed to try and talk the others down. To do that, she had to have a level head.

She tried looking at their situation from a different perspective.

Frantic as she worked, Amelia seemed confident in her creation. Gura, on the other hand, looked uncertain, but she was there. That was good enough.

Ina held her book open in front of her while Sana quietly instructed her. Distinctly spacial power surged forth from the text, infusing Ina with cosmic radiance. A small portal to who-knows-where opened behind her, letting through a cluster of tentacles. Her eyes began to glow and she rose off the ground. All the while Sana turned the pages.

As one, they began to chant in a language that was alien even to Irys. A nearly invisible bubble expanded out from them. It passed through the workshop, enveloping the entire building. Difficult to perceive as it was, Irys could detect Ina's uniquely violet color tinged with the color of the cosmos.

The first part of their plan was in place. The only thing left to do was wait for the attack to come.

Minutes passed in near total silence. The workshop swallowed most of the strange humming coming from Sana and Ina, and the clicks and clacks of Amelia's work weren't much louder. With nothing to do, Irys tried to stay focused. But she was so tense she could hardly breathe!

Somehow, despite having just as little to do, Gura didn't seem to be affected by the tension at all. Then again, she was clearly distracted. Irys looked through her physical presence and into her psyche. She figured that the intensity of Bae's attention was drawing Gura's focus towards her, but what she saw skittering across the surface of Gura's thoughts was shocking.

Despair lapped at Gura's mind like tongues of black fire. It roiled and danced, growing stronger and stronger. It would consume her if nothing was done.

Irys moved before she could really think through what she could actually do. She approached Gura, more than a little stiff, and tried to smile. "Thank you for standing with us," she said.

Gura shrugged. "Ame's my friend. It's a given that I'd help her."

"Right. Of course." Irys felt helpless. The Atlantean's sentiment was nice and all, but it did nothing to stem the tide of darkness taking hold. If anything, it just grew stronger. Whatever this girl was dealing with, a few kind words and some encouragement wouldn't be able to overcome it.

Amelia shot to her feet, knocking her stool to the floor with a loud clang. "It's done," she exclaimed, holding a small box over her head. Hope swelled in Irys's chest, but as she watched Amelia's triumph, she noticed a figure standing on the far side of the workshop.

Kronii stood with her back straight, looking down her nose at everyone in the room. Her hands rested on the hilt of a large sword–styled after the hand of a clock–its tip digging into the floor.

Her expectedly sudden appearance stole the breath from everyone's lungs. She glared at Amelia, pointedly avoiding looking at either Sana or Irys.

Though shaken, Amelia took her surprise in stride. "You sure it was a good idea to wait until after I finished my device to show your face?" Her voice was steady, betraying no fear or uncertainty. Her tone was derisive, maybe even a little mocking. She had the air of a genius, but Irys was starting to wonder if she wasn't simply mad.

Kronii didn't rise to the taunt at all. "I don't wait for anything. I chose this moment so I could crush every last one of your hopes." Suddenly, she was in two places at once. The her that was standing on the other side of the workshop flickered as another her appeared beside Amelia. A slim streak of blood marred the edge of her blade.

Amelia fell to her knees with a grunt. She clutched at her side and a dark red stain spread from beneath her trembling hand.

Gura snarled and took a purposeful step forward. But as soon as she hoisted her trident, her grip slipped. No, it loosened. Dark, raging despair bloomed within Gura's mind, reaching every corner of her psyche. There was nothing Irys could do to stop it.

"Stop this, Kronii!" Irys said. She wasn't like Amelia. She couldn't keep her voice steady in this situation. "You aren't truly so ruthless as to–" The warden of time shot her a dark look, halting the voice in her throat. The message was clear:

It was a threat. Clear as crystal. It shook Irys to her core. She didn't have the sort of power capable of interfering with time itself. She had no business meddling in Kronii's affairs.

She gritted her teeth anyway.

She wouldn't fight–she really couldn't, in all honesty–but there was something she could do. Hope and despair were her domain! They weren't forces she could wield as weapons, but she could bolster their presence in others. Normally the direction of her existence would lift people up on wings of hope or dig them deeper into despair without her input, but maybe, just this once, she could flip the script on purpose.

She couldn't fight, but Gura could. Maybe she could turn the Atlantean's despair into hope!

While Amelia injected herself with something, Irys dove into the torrent of darkness flooding Gura's mind. Hope and despair were like oil and water; they didn't mix, but they didn't erase each other either. If she could encourage Gura to focus on hope rather than despair, then she might be able to pull her out of the darkness. She dove deeper, dredging the depths of Gura's psyche. The images and impressions are anything but concrete, but they are suffocating anyways.

There was a tremendous amount of pain at the heart of this darkness. So much so that Irys could barely wade through it. But there was hope in there somewhere. She could feel it.

A kernel of light, tiny and weak, but undeniably there. Irys reached for it, weathering the storm of despair. She cradled it in her hands, imparting warmth and comfort. She encouraged that tiny hope to grow. She couldn't be sure if it would work–she'd never done anything like it before–but she was seeing results

The light grew stronger but that was the extent of her control. The rest was up to Gura. She would have to seize that light, raise it up and banish the darkness herself.

When Irys's consciousness returned to her body she was greeted by the sight of Gura's fingers firmly grasping her trident.

Kronii dragged her blade across Amelia's leg, causing her to stumble. Irys had only been inside Gura's mind for a few moments, but the workshop had already been ransacked. Large, sturdy tables and cabinets were sliced cleanly in half. Huge piles of scrap were scattered across the floor. And there were small pools of blood here and there. All of that in such a brief time . . . then again, when Kronii was involved, the passage of time was irrelevant.

Irys turned her attention back to Gura. "I can't speak to what you've been through up to now, but these friends you've made are the present, not the past. You can help them. You can protect what you've found."

The light of hope peaked through the darkness. It was little more than a glint at first, but it steadily grew more brilliant as Gura started towards Amelia and Kronii. It shone in her eyes as the final wisps of darkness were relegated to the furthest reaches of her psyche.

But then a deep red shadow fell over her and the light faded. Something even darker than despair was trying to snuff out her hope! She stopped in her tracks and her grip loosened enough for the butt of her weapon to hit the floor.

"No!" Irys panicked. She couldn't let the light go out. They needed that hope. She attempted to dive back into Gura's mind, but was repelled. She tried again to no avail. She was being kept out.

Bae was making her move! But the barrier . . .

The truth bubbled up through the panic. It sneered at her, reminded her that she was helpless to change it.

Bae never needed to get through the barrier. She was inside before it was erected. She was inside Gura all along. Their plan had been countered before they'd even made it.

Amelia fell to the ground again with a cry. Kronii stood over her, her statuesque features oddly devoid of emotion. Something was wrong.

"Gura!" Irys pleaded. "You have to come back! You have to push through! Please!" Irys shouted louder and louder as if it would help the poor girl hear.

It was all she could do.

+ Shift +

The workshop melted away in a thick red haze. Amelia was in trouble. She was going to die if Gura didn't move.

But was there any guarantee that she could be saved even if Gura did move? That woman, Kronii, could control time couldn't she? At any point, she could stop time and kill Amelia without giving Gura and the others the opportunity to react. It was the same with all of them, wasn't it? The powers they were facing were just too great to defeat.

The ground fell away, and Gura fell with it. Back, back through her memories.

Her time in the order was a flash. Less than a century was barely anything in a span approaching ten millennia. It was merely the latest stitch in a vast tapestry of lonely travels. She drifted from one place to another in reverse, shunning connection of any sort, until finally she arrived at the beginning. Her home.

The one she ruined.

The one they ruined.

There was another her standing at her side. Together, they looked out over the corpse of a civilization. "It really was a beautiful place, wasn't it? Not exactly peaceful, but exciting." The other her spoke. Her voice sounded like Gura's, but there was something slightly off. "It really is too bad it's gone. But what's done is done. Come on." The other her turned and beckoned Gura to follow. She wanted her to turn her back on the lost city. She wanted her to keep running.

Amelia had said she was running, too. Gura didn't see it that way, though. There was a stark difference between running away from the past and moving on from it.

Amelia carried the burden of her sins on her shoulders, looking towards the future. Gura shied away, dragging her sins behind her with a rusty chain wrapped around her neck. One of them took responsibility for their actions. The other didn't. That was the difference between them.

"What are you waiting for?" The other Gura said, frowning. "All the strength in the world can't bear the weight of what we've done. You know that. Now come on." She started walking away from the ruins, out towards the red haze.

But Gura didn't follow. She didn't budge an inch. She refused.

The wrong Gura's shoulders slumped and she huffed. They were somewhere else, suddenly. The world had moved around them. No steps needed. Gura looked up at the broken frame that used to be her house. The walls were burned out. There was blood on the floor. There was blood on her hands.

Her heart beat furiously. So much so that she felt dizzy. But she didn't avert her eyes. Not this time. She kept those memories firmly in view.

The other Gura grabbed her by the shoulders and shook. "What are you doing? Don't tell me you're going to delude yourself like that time traveler?" A thin red mist seeped out from between her lips as she spoke. "Are you trying to pretend you did nothing wrong? How can you call that taking responsibility?"

Gura shrugged her off and walked past her. This memory, this projection of her trauma was centered around one horrible scene in particular. The blood seeping into the floorboards, soaking the scattered pieces of furniture, and tinting the other Gura's hair was spreading from one point.

The place where her parents' bodies laid.

Gura knelt beside the imaginary cadavers, but she dared not touch them. She severed the bond between them. She had no right to seek comfort in them now.

When she was a child, the burdens she shouldered seemed insurmountable. She either lived up to everyone's expectations, or she disappointed them. There was no in-between. But it wasn't the city she was afraid of disappointing. It wasn't her neighbors. It wasn't the people who cheered her on and called her name. It was her parents. Her father, brash and loud and proud, and her mother, quiet and supportive and wise. Theirs was the disappointment she couldn't take.

The city could lose interest. Her neighbors could scorn her. The people could stop cheering and calling her name. None of it mattered. None of it brought the same shame as seeing her father's shoulders droop. None of it could soften the placating words of encouragement offered by her mother.

They always supported her. No matter how she failed, they were there to help her succeed. But she was only a child. She simply didn't understand. She couldn't see their perspective if she'd tried.

And so she crumbled under the pressure. She wanted a way out. She needed one. That was when she heard the voice. It was her own voice, but different in a way she couldn't articulate. It told her there was a way out. It said it could help. It told her exactly what to do.

And she'd done it.

And this was the result.

Gura stood.

Two people destroyed Atlantis. She'd been manipulated by some malevolent force for reasons she still didn't understand and probably couldn't fathom. She understood that at least, but that didn't absolve her of anything. She was still responsible. It was by her own hand that her home was destroyed. She turned to face the other her.

No, that wasn't right. She turned to face the woman who used her voice and face to manipulate her. Bright red hair streaked with black, large ears like a rodent's laying flat, asymmetrical clothing that made the world look like it was spiraling in on her. Hers was a face Gura had never seen but knew intimately nonetheless.

"Tell me your name," Gura said. It was strange how calm she was, all things considered. What was about to happen aside, the only thing she really wanted was to know who had tortured her all these years.

The voice in her head clicked her tongue. "Hakos Baelz, chaos incarnate, at your service." She did a quick bow and scowled. "You know, it's funny how you spent thousands of years trying so desperately to escape your past, only to grow a spine at the worst possible time. Bravo. Honestly, just incredible."

Gura ignored her jeers. "Why? Why did any of this have to happen?"

"I never did like how blunt you could be," Baelz spat. Her scowl deepened. " My whole reason for existing is to facilitate the spread of chaos. A volcanic eruption here, a decades long war there, a religious schism that splits the world into tiny pieces just around the bend. A prosperous civilization crumbling at the hands of its most promising daughter is about as chaotic as it gets."

"Why me?"

Baelz looked away. She hesitated, but answered. "Maybe I saw something of myself in you. Incredible power, grand expectations foisted onto your shoulders, the isolation that comes with trying your hardest to live up to those expectations." The embodiment of chaos laughed. It was clearly just as much for herself as it was for Gura. "Call it sympathy if you want. A gesture of mercy for someone who is destined to always be alone. Just like yours truly."

For whatever reason, Gura was inclined to believe what she said. But after so long, she refused to accept it.

The space behind Baelz flickered. An image, like one from a projector appeared just over her head. It showed the workshop. Maybe that was a way to get back. Gura ran for the projection, but she didn't get any closer.

Amelia was being battered. Her body flung side to side. Her clothes were dyed by numerous cuts all across her body. It was painful to watch. Infuriating.

"Let me go," Gura barked. She was done with whatever game these council members were playing.

Baelz shrugged. "No can do. We've still got a mission to complete. Kronii's gonna kill your friend out there, and once she's gone, you and I can go back to normal."

Gura's hackles rose. She could hardly sit still, but she wasn't stupid. Baelz was keeping her there somehow. This place bent to her will. But still, sitting and waiting was agony. Gura had come this far piggybacking off of Amelia's determination. If she died now . . .

Gura bit her cheek and tasted the blood mixing with her spit. This wasn't the end. Amelia was still out there fighting. Gura wouldn't run away anymore. She'd stay and watch and believe.

She still had hope.

+ Shift +

The time traveler stood up again. It was admirable to a certain extent. But in the end, she was just delaying the inevitable.

Kronii stopped time as Amelia Watson raised her head. She moved elegantly over scattered bits of scrap littering the ground and overturned stools. She swung her sword, striking exactly where she wanted and leaving a shallow, though not insignificant cut in Amelia's side. She returned to her previous position, taking care to avoid the unsightly red splats from earlier attacks, and let time flow once again.

The time traveler grunted, staggering. But this time, she did not fall to the ground. Her hands moved deftly, producing another syringe and injecting herself in the same motion. Her fresh wound was almost completely healed by the time she pulled the needle out.

Between those miraculous serums and that rickety time machine, the woman's capacity for invention was astounding. Had the administrator not marked her for erasure, Kronii might have liked to pick her brain. Alas, it was not to be.

Another cut. Another injection. It was a doomed cycle, destined to end when the supply of serum ran out. Kronii stopped time and inspected Amelia carefully. Hadn't she prepared something new for this encounter? That was the whole reason Kronii chose the moment she did to show herself. She could crush Amelia's greatest and last hope in the same stroke that she erased her from existence.

But she wasn't using it. What was she waiting for?

Sana's foil, Ina'Nis, lowered her barrier. With Bae already nested in the shark, there was no point in trying to keep intruders out. Her power did not cease its flow, however. Thick tentacles sprouted from the floor and ceiling and attempted to restrain Kronii. Were she not the warden of time, they may have managed to move quickly enough to grapple her.

She stopped time and casually stepped through the dense stand of appendages. They were a distraction. Not worth her time. She cut Amelia again, dragging her blade across the woman's shoulder.

She should have just ended it there. Killing the time traveler right then would take no effort whatsoever. She could conclude her business and return home. The administrator would certainly be happy with that result. Ruthless efficiency. No delay. But that didn't sit right with Kronii, even if her target was a world destroying criminal.

The orders she was given made perfect sense, but an itch in the back of her mind caused her to stay her hand. It was a vague impression, like a word hanging on the tip of her tongue that she couldn't quite land on. She couldn't complete her mission until she understood what it was.

Kronii allowed time to flow. As Amelia stifled a gasp of pain, she offered an explanation. "I need you to understand the gravity of your actions. I need you to feel the pain caused by the loss of potential." It was a reasonable angle, she thought, but the words sounded hollow as they passed her lips.

Amelia just glared at her. The wound in her shoulder began to close as another syringe fell to the floor.

More tentacles sprouted around Kronii, swinging wildly as they appeared. They posed little threat, but they were certainly annoying. Kronii reached out towards the woman controlling them and stopped her.

She had no reason to harm the others' targets. They hadn't wronged her the way Amelia had, so freezing her in place was more than enough.

"Ina!" Amelia cried out. It was the first burst of real emotion she'd shown since Kronii had appeared. Maybe that would finally do the trick. With the shark under Bae's control, Ina'Nis's time stopped, and Irys and Sana refusing to participate, Amelia was isolated. She was backed into a corner.

Surely she would use it now. It was time to play her trump card. They could end this once and for all and Kronii could settle on an answer.

But Amelia made no such move. She clenched her jaw and glared, but didn't act. Why?

Kronii cut her again. She didn't bother stopping time. "What are you doing?" she said. "Don't just stand there. Fight back. Resist!" Another slash. Was justice truly the right answer here? Was it meant to be a simple execution?

The time traveler endured the pain. "I still haven't said what I need to," she said through gritted teeth.

"Fine then," she rested the tip of her blade on the ground and waited, "I suppose I can indulge a doomed criminal's pathetic final words. Go on, then."

Amelia stood up straight. Her wounds closed, but her eyes betrayed her exhaustion. Those injections were taking a toll. In a move so impudent it left Kronii stunned, she strolled across the workshop and casually dug through the remains of a desk. She pulled a hat from a pile of tools and broken fixtures.

"Tell me, how was I wrong?" She said.

Rage nearly overwhelmed Kronii's self control. It was a despicable question. "You acted in total ignorance. You understood nothing of the forces you meddled in, and as a result, you erased the future."

"Is that really such a terrible thing? That future was already a mess. Isn't it better to wipe the slate clean and start over fresh?"

Kronii balked at the suggestion. How could it not be terrible? "Erasing the future did not only erase the pain and suffering. It erased everything. The people, their hopes and dreams. You erased all the good that had been done and all that would have been done." Kronii paused. Had the administrator taken any of that into account when they passed judgment?

Her mind twisted away from the question and towards an urge to strike the time traveler down.

Instead, she restrained herself and continued. "Ultimately, your true crime is the erasure of potential. No matter how horrible things might have been in the time you lived, things always could have gotten better!" Kronii wanted to see the world repair itself over time. Watching those sorts of potentials come to fruition was her greatest joy. But Amelia could never comprehend that. She acted selfishly.

Was that it? Indignation?

"That makes sense," Amelia said, taking Kronii by surprise. "I never could have known that changing the future would lead to its destruction. I was ignorant. But given the chance to do things over, knowing what I do now, I wouldn't change a thing. What I did was right."

Kronii stomped her foot and everything stopped. The entire universe was held in suspension. Everything except for Kronii and Amelia.

"Use it!" Kronii snarled. "Whatever it is you put together to face me. Use it so that I can erase you just as you erased that time!" Discipline, then? The administrator was very clear. The situation was cut and dry, so why couldn't she settle on a reason?

Amelia did not flinch. Slowly, she donned the dust covered cap and gripped the box fastened to her belt. And then she had the gall to smirk. She pressed a button on the box.

Everything started to move.

Kronii's eyes widened. It shouldn't have been possible. It wasn't possible. She was the embodiment of time itself! How could her control be undermined?!

Amelia Watson glowed, a blinding star. She emerged from the burst of light clad in a sleek suit of armor. "The future I knew might be gone for good, but that doesn't mean we can't build a new one. The potential of the present is still alive and well! A new future will be written, and I will be here to see how it turns out!"

Time stopped. This despicable woman, who had only ever done irreparable damage to time, had no right to speak of the future. She had no right to talk sense! Kronii rushed her. The final card had been played. Amelia's life was forfeit. That was the administrator's will. Kronii stabbed directly at Amelia's heart.

But the time traveler caught it. Sparks flew as the edge of the blade ground to a halt between her armored fingers. Kronii's thoughts screeched to a halt in the same way. It didn't make sense. Time should have stopped for everything. No exceptions.

So how was this woman still moving?!

Amelia pulled Kronii in close and planted a kick in her gut. Pain blossomed in her core and spread to her extremities. It was . . . new. And terribly unpleasant. Before she could fully process the impact, an armored fist crashed into her cheek, sending her reeling.

The time traveler widened her stance and raised her fists in a clumsy simulacrum of a fighting stance. "I'll fight for my future. I'll fight for my friends' futures." Her face was covered by a mask, but Kronii could clearly visualize the grin on her face. "I'll even fight for your future if you'll let me."

Unbelievable. Infuriating. Incredible.

Kronii shut the unfamiliar painful sensations out of her mind and drew back her blade. No matter what Amelia had done, no matter how, there was no way her interference was perfect. The tiniest fraction of a moment was all Kronii needed to–

A slender tentacle wrapped around Kronii's wrist, throwing her off balance. She'd forgotten about Ina'Nis and now Sana's little friend was free. Everything was falling apart.

How?!

Amelia took advantage of Ina'Nis's distraction and got close in an instant. She drove her fists into Kronii's arms, legs, and torso with such speed and ferocity that it was as if she were attacking in stopped time.

Those blows were painful. The whole situation was humiliating. But Kronii was the warden of time. She was the embodiment of a fundamental force of the universe! Two on one? They could bring a hundred mortals to bear against her and she would not be shaken!

She would make them regret defying the administrator's will!

Even if she wasn't entirely sure that was the right thing to do.

+ Shift +

No way.

There was no freakin' way!

There weren't enough smarts or resourcefulness in the world to let a person–a regular person–stand up against time itself!

It must have been some kind of joke. Kronii just wasn't taking things seriously enough. That had to be it. But . . . Kronii would never let herself get beat up like that. Things weren't adding up.

Bae didn't need to turn around. She could feel the hope swelling within Gura. the mindspace around them pulsed with it, growing brighter and warmer with every punch the time traveler landed. That wouldn't do. If she couldn't maintain control, then Gura would . . . the administrator wouldn't be happy.

Bracing herself, Bae turned to confront her charge. She couldn't let her escape the mire of self-doubt and regret. She had to keep her chained. Looking at Gura's face sent a pang through her chest. In the thousands of years Bae had been watching the shark, she'd seldom made a face like that. No rage, frustration, or hate. No sorrow, pain, or loneliness. It was a look of pure determination.

"Your friend is making a good show of it. It's too cruel, really. Giving her so much hope. Letting her think she might actually stand a chance, just to take it away at the last moment." Bae laid it on thick. It was all she could do after her display of Kronii's fight backfired.

"I don't think so, rat lady," Gura said with her whole chest. She was smiling. Beaming, really. "My friends are still fighting, and from where I'm standing they're doing awesome. Nothing you say now can change that."

Oh. So that's how it was. She was putting on a brave face. A convincing facade for someone who'd been running for so long. Well, Bae wouldn't be fooled. She'd been with Gura since she was a child. Her emotions were an open book.

Bae pulled them both back into the streets of Atlantis. And then she polished it up a bit. The crumbling, dingy ruins reformed. The marble structures took on a pristine white sheen. The foliage grew in vibrant green with colorful splashes of coral. And there were people. Their faces were indistinct, but that was alright. All that mattered was that this particular scenery harkened back to the happiest of Gura's childhood memories.

Bae gestured to the gilded cityscape and took aim. "I know you remember. I wouldn't be able to do this if you didn't." Her target was Gura's heart. Her ammunition was guilt. "It looks nice alright. But we both know the truth. A nice layer of plaster over rotted wood." Bae flicked her wrist and the world around them shifted again.

Greek, Roman, Persian, Chinese, Indian. The number of great cities they'd visited over the years was hard to fathom, even for Bae. And though she rarely slept, she hadn't even seen them all.

"No matter where you went. No matter how much time passed. It was always the same. They saw what you were capable of and couldn't help themselves." Gura's heart rate began to rise. Bae continued to push on her uncertainty. "It wasn't fair. It isn't fair. Why do you have to bear their expectations? Who gave them the right to put that pressure on you?"

The air quivered. Gura's brain was in turmoil. She'd be telling herself not to listen. It was just a voice in her head, after all. It was the same old pattern. Next, she'd be doubting herself. And then she'd be right where Bae wanted her.

The world around them returned to Atlantis, pristine and shining.

One more push. "Holiv is the same, you know." Bae shook her head and shrugged. "That's just the way things are. Your 'friends' only wanted you here so they could use your power. It's the same."

Gura bared her teeth. The pain on her face wasn't pleasant. Bae took no joy in inflicting it. Tragically, it was the only way.

"You're right," Gura said. It was exactly what Bae wanted to hear, but something was wrong. "I'm afraid of the past. I'm terrified that it'll happen again. Facing what I've done is too hard." Her thoughts were too orderly. Her mind was too steady. "But I want to. I want to confront what I've done. I want to move past it. I won't run anymore!"

The world around them crumbled. The city fell to ruins on its own. A chill ran up Bae's spine.

She clicked her tongue. Why'd she have to go and brag about how confident she was? When the others found out that she lost control like this, they'd rub it in her face. If she went back empty handed, there'd be no end to the sidelong glances and contempt. She couldn't take that. Her standing in the council was already at rock bottom. She didn't want to fall any further.

Hakos Baelz would complete her mission.

Even if that meant beating her one and only kindred spirit into submission.

Bae raised her hand and gathered energy in her palm. The individuality of people was the greatest source of chaos in the universe. Within this mindscape, there was no shortage of power for her to draw on. She condensed that energy into a crackling ball of chaotic might and threw it. It screamed through the air. Gura would dodge it, surely, but Bae was already preparing another. She'd wear the shark down first, and then–

Gura smacked the ball out of the air with a trident of sparkling aquamarine. She didn't have that a moment ago. The confidence of her grip made it clear that she understood where they were. That was bad news.

Bae changed tactics, opting for smaller balls of energy that were less powerful, but quicker to produce. She lobbed a volley of crackling spheres, aiming to overwhelm Gura with numbers, but the shark was unfazed.

She ran straight for Bae frighteningly quickly. The balls were deflected like they were nothing and before Bae could adjust, three glittering prongs split the sea. They almost ran her through. Almost.

Bae knocked the head of the trident aside and rammed her elbow into Gura's chest, sending her tumbling back the way she came. The embodiment of chaos followed, matching Gura's pace. She stood over the shark and raised her heel. One good stomp would do it.

Gura pushed herself away, narrowly avoiding the devastating impact that shattered the ruined Atlantean street. Bae didn't give her time to breathe, though. She pursued, kicking Gura before she could catch her footing. She practically dribbled Gura across the ground, pounding relentlessly against her defenses.

"Did you forget where you got that strength from too?!" Bae chided. A great and terrible power was unleashed to destroy Atlantis. Much of it was Gura's innate strength, but it was greatly bolstered by the apocalyptic power of chaos.

Gura caught Bae's fist and prevented her from pulling it back. "Of course not!" She roared, launching her own series of attacks.

They traded blows, battering away at each other's defenses. Each impact destabilized the imaginary world around them. And the intensity only increased. They tore through the ruins of Atlantis, digging deep gashes in the ground and blowing entire buildings apart! Bae had to admit that it was exhilarating. But it was nowhere near enough.

This facsimile of Atlantis was inside of Gura's mind, born of her soul. But it was just as much Bae's. It would take a great deal of mental fortitude to force her out, and she'd spent thousands of years ensuring that Gura had no such strength.

It was time for the kid gloves to come off.

Bae exerted her will onto Gura's mindspace. Crimson bolts of lightning crashed down around them. Space warped around her as she moved, hitting Gura with more than just her fists. When she roared, the sky shattered.

Gura's attacks stopped. She had to focus entirely on defense, but that still wouldn't be enough to save her.

Bae kept going, hitting harder and harder. "Nothing has changed!" She knocked Gura's arms away and pounded her joints. "I. Am. In. Control!" A quick sweep sent Gura tumbling. A kick to the gut sent her rolling across the ground.

Bae raised her palm to the broken sky. She curled her fingers into a tight grip and pulled the heavens down to earth. The mental projection was bathed in the blinding light of a world ending. Everything was crushed. Everything was melted. Everything was reduced to a smoldering hole in the ground.

Everything except for Gura.

"I push my friends away," Bae said, breathing in the chaos. "It's in my nature. Just like yours. Yet somehow, miraculously, I've managed to keep you close. All this time, it's just been you and me. I won't ever let you go."

The shark looked at the devastated scenery around her. Her eyes were so wide. It didn't take long for reality to set in. She pulled her trident close to her chest. Bae knew that look, that body language. That was the death of hope. A part of her ached, but that was fine. She'd had her fair share of that particular flavor of pain. She dulled the ache with triumph.

The administrator would be pleased. They would praise Bae, and the others would realize that she wasn't a burden. That she wasn't in the way. They would be her friends again.

Gura shouted until her voice broke, giving Bae pause. That wasn't like the lonely shark girl she knew. Her's was the type that shrank back from reality in silence. For her to rage like that was disturbing.

She was trembling like a leaf, but Gura planted her feet. She adjusted her grip on the trident. That was one of the forms her father taught her. "I won't let you mess with me anymore! Get out of my head, or I'll kick you out!" That damnable determination.

Bae sighed. She didn't want to have to hurt her only friend too badly, but if Gura insisted . . . "Go ahead and try."

Gura charged with her trident held at her waist, parallel to the ground. It was a basic offensive form with extremely limited options. Perhaps she didn't realize that Bae knew just as much about using that weapon as she did. Oh well.

When the inevitable thrust came for Bae's throat, she batted it away. The weapon flew from Gura's hands, twirling through the air. Pathetic. It was so easy to disarm her that it was almost embarrassing.

As the trident clattered to the ground, it occurred to Bae that it was too easy. That thrusting form was certainly basic, but it was also sturdy. Disarming an average opponent using that grip should have been next to impossible. To disarm a powerful opponent like Gura . . .

She would have to let go on purpose.

Before the trident could settle, Gura took hold of Bae. She spun on the spot, lifting Bae off the ground and over her shoulder. Chaos hit the ground sending a shockwave across the entire crater and dislodging large chunks of imaginary earth.

Bae's vision flashed white and her lungs emptied. Pain radiated out from her spine in sharp, intense waves. It was like her entire skeleton had shattered! If they weren't in Gura's mindspace, that may have actually been her fate. The fact that she felt such extreme pain in this imaginary place at all was disturbing.

Physical strength had no real bearing here. It was strength of thought, of will, that mattered most. Gura was strong, she always was, but not so strong that she could overwhelm the mental fortitude of a fundamental aspect of the universe!

A fist crashed into Bae's face, driving her head into the ground. Another impact drove her deeper. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong!

Bae wasn't giving her anything, so where was this strength coming from? Impact after impact pushed Bae's nerves to her limit. The sheer trauma of the blows eventually numbed the pain.

A member of the council couldn't be brought so low. It wasn't possible. To be put in such a position was humiliating. Worse, even. Seeing the other members of the council get along just fine without her drove her up the wall, but this . . . It made her want to follow Gura's example and scream at the top of her lungs.

So she did.

Pure, primal chaos erupted out of her body like water from a burst dam. The ground around her evaporated and Gura was sent flying to the edge of the crater. The space around Bae's body crackled and popped as she rose to her feet. She seethed and the rampant chaos she released coagulated, growing more and more dense. It began to take shape. A gigantic torso, tail, arms, legs, and finally a monstrous head.

It was an ephemeral thing–its fluid skin danced with crimson lightning–but it was very much real. More real than any of the memories or mental constructs she'd crafted thus far. It was almost as real as Gura herself. And if Bae interfaced with it, made herself part of it, it would cross that threshold.

The strain of chaos's avatar truly manifesting would surely break the poor shark's mind, but Bae was willing to make that sacrifice. She was done.

She reached up to join with her monstrous other self, but paused just short. She wanted one last look at the only friend she'd had for almost ten thousand years. Gura's face was set, determined. It was like she refused to consider her impending doom as she rushed to retrieve her trident and continue the fight. But it was too late.

Bae breathed through the monster's lungs. She felt the weight of its limbs. It was about to be her, and she it.

Then a light descended from the sky-less void above.

A familiar, terrible light.

The brilliance filled Gura's mindspace, erasing each and every shadow no matter how small. It was blinding. It made Bae nauseous. And it spoke to her.

Please, it said, it doesn't need to be this way. We don't need to fight!

Bae's heart ached. A tiny, deluded part of her wanted to accept that plea. It wanted to believe that the friendships she'd lost could be salvaged. But the rest of her knew better. The bond she once shared with hope was severed. There was no going back. The administrator said so themselves.

She ripped her attention away from the sickening light just in time to see Gura launch herself at the monster Bae was becoming. One moment, she was near the edge of the crater, trident in hand. The next, a hole opened in her avatar's chest. It's not-quite-solid form popped.

The pain was real. It carved a jagged path through every single nerve as she was forced out of the nook she'd been settled in for thousands of years. She cried out, falling to the ground in a limp heap. She was only just barely able to maintain her presence. Weakened, she pushed herself to her knees, but that was as far as she could get.

Gura approached with brisk strides. She was bathed in the light of hope. When she looked down at Bae there was no hatred or resentment on her face. Only pity.

A quick strike with her trident ripped Bae from her mind.

The ravaged mindspace vanished. Hope's light vanished.

Bae jerked in her chair. She clutched her chest where the hole would have been. Her body still ached. Her physical body! She gasped for breath, her voice consumed by the conceptual space of the council chamber. Sweat dripped from her chin as her mind scrambled to adjust to the sudden shift.

The chamber was empty. Of course it was. The others were still trying to complete their missions. She was the first to fail. She was alone.

For the first time in millennia.

Truly, painfully alone.