There was time now, thought Kid. The last few years had been too much for him, even though now he was supposed to have a power that had little to no limits. The lines of Sanzu were complete, Asura had been killed, but what now?

The concept of time was quite slow to creep up on him. It was like an itch, a feeling of unease that he couldn't quite place. He found himself getting bored, like in the olden days. However, nothing satisfied his mind like it used to.

It was frustrating, seeing the people around him work. The students of the DWMA were allowed a vacation: it was the least he could do after the war that they had just been through. The survivors were more than happy to get rid of the adrenaline that they had accumulated, distract from the pain of grief, through physical work. Death City and number of other places had been badly damaged by Madness, Witches, what have you. One could see familiar faces throughout the city wielding hammers, conversing with locals, things that should have made the new God happy.

But they didn't. It was as if witnessing the agitation was all it took to stir anger in him. Anger at himself, surely, because he still blamed himself. A lot of things could have gone differently if he had only been better.

"Hey Kid, I'll take your card out for a spin I need to go buy drinks with Tsu byyyyyye!"

Liz rushed through the room only long enough to throw the sentence Kid's way and flash the golden credit card in his face.

"It's Lord Death," he whispered under his breath to the rapidly departing footsteps. Something pinched at his heart, like an insect sting. It took him a moment to calm himself down.

Why was the world still spinning while he was at a standstill?

One thing that could be said about the Moon was that it was pretty much empty. At a distance it could be intimidating, but once on the surface there really wasn't much to be seen.

Dust, maybe? There was a lot of it, and the way it fell slowly had been amusing the first few minutes. Now it was more like a beach with no sea. As dry as a desert, as empty as their heart.

It was an invitation to self-reflection. They sat on the ground and crossed their legs.

Nothing happened.

They didn't really know what to expect. They wished for a stick, something to draw in the dust. Like the sand in their mind, it invited creativity.

Instead, they used a finger to draw themself. A lone stick figure, surrounded by nothing but more dust, an infinity of dust. That's not right, they thought, and drew Ragnarok.

He was a separate entity. A dragon, as they had always known him. They were one, for the better and for the worse, but in this fictitious reality of moon-dust he was free.

That word in their mind was enough to remind them of the wolf-man. Free; a single adjective that had become their name. Was he still alive?

In this dust world, he was. They drew the werewolf next to the two other sand beings.

Free and Eruka had been close. They had a budding romance between them that Ragnarok had been sure to point out and make fun of. Crona had never noticed it before, but once they had it seemed so obvious that they wondered how it could have slipped their attention.

"Auntie Eruka, I'll add you too."

Auntie. Auntie, like Auntie at the DWMA?

Something stirred in them. For the first time in a while, Ragnarok tried to wake. It was as if the cold of the moon's pseudo-atmosphere was starting to claw at their skin, but also inside their throat. Something itched. Something hurt, and that was enough to get them to spiral out of control.

Three blades materialised and struck through the dust drawings. The cuts were perfect, like the claw marks of an immense dragon.

The dust settled and Crona, trembling and breathing heavily, let themself gently fall to the ground once more.

They had many things to think about. Thoughts tangles like old yarn, and emotions… Too many, too strong and too complex to even contemplate taking on, even one at a time. It felt like it would take so much energy. Their soul ached at the thought, and again the gentle stir of madness fell heavy on their guts.

There was nothing they could destroy on the Moon. Nobody to hurt, even if they did lose control. Ragnarok was dormant. They were free from consequences, and alone with their thoughts.

And not only that, but there was time now.

They started to draw again.