Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Many legends are not complicated. They speak of a hero, out to rescue a heroine from some grave travesty that will surely kill her and leave her body in the ground for the worms, and each time he truly succeeds. There is a difference between legends and myths, because in the latter, there is usually a death of some sort of heroine, to teach the reader a lesson; legends tell of heroism to bring joy and show how strength and valor can bring glory and fame.

The story in this book, oddly enough, cannot be classified as neither.

“How can that be?” You may wonder, “How can that work? You either have legends, or myths. It is one or the other, or it is just a regular fantasy story where nothing happened.”

Ah, yes, I say, that is a good point. But you are not the author of this story. In fact, even I am not the author of this story; this story is authored by the characters that play their roles themselves. I am merely a sentient Muse of glorious Space that is set to tell the story of why you, yes you, are alive this day.

Because without the heroics of those in this story, you would not even be existing. Funny enough, there is a 50% chance you would be dead because of me.

This author is getting ahead of herself though, and we have much to discuss. Yes, yes, we certainly do!

Do know this, though—you may realize more about the Fable of the Son of the Messiah than you ever learned before. I am sure you have heard of this story, yes? The story that can be classified as legend, fable, and myth all in one go? Your mothers and fathers told you soon after you were born, and the troll and human children that were your neighbors told you with hushed whispers about the exciting tale, and how they wished to grow up to be like David Strider or Karkat Vantas, or even Kanaya Maryam.

But did they tell you everything? Hardly.

Because they were not witness to every single moment of the journey. They did not see every single stolen moment, every powerful punch or race for vitality and life.

And that is why I, finally, will send this story out to the masses of Alternia. Because this story needs to be remembered the right way.

And every story is remembered the right way by starting at the beginning…

----

Years and Sweeps ago, before you were born, Alternia prospered. At the creation of the planet, trolls had not been the only ones created at the Vast Croak—humans had appeared as well. Though the population was smaller than that of Earth’s, it was substantial in the beginning, enough to grow into a prosperous society along with the trolls. No one was exactly sure why humans had appeared alongside their grey brethren; religions stated that it was fate, a divine surprise that was meant to have greater consequences in the future. Some said that it was just a genetic mishap, and that could have been a possibility—some humans had troll-esque features in the beginning, while some trolls seemed more human in personality and physicality. After time, though, those mutations slowly died away, and the planet was left with two distinct, yet similar, species.

Because there were humans amongst them, Alternia’s culture was different from what could have been. There was a society of democracy, for neither species could be ruling over the other, lest there be a war. Though the humans were outnumbered in population (the trolls at sixty percent, the humans at forty), the humans had intelligence and power that could strike the trolls down—and it did, in the early days.

No, there was no immediate peaceful democracy in the beginning of Alternia’s infant years. There was indeed a war that brought each side to its knees, with weapons and fierce armies that lead to bloody rivers and dead forests. Animals were recruited by orange bloods; humans rode horses and crafted spears and slowly studied how to create basic guns and weaponry. Trolls in the seas sunk ships and even left their watery wetlands to destroy and kill on land.

This war, to no one’s surprise, was named The 100 Years War many years in the future; because of the length it lasted.

But others, though, called it another name: The Sufferer’s War.

No, no, silly, the Sufferer did not start the war…he was the one to stop it.

In year one-hundred and one of the War, as both populations were finally beginning to dwindle, one troll stepped up to preach what many would later call The Word. Deemed by any and all who would listen to him as the “Messiah”, he spoke of how the trolls and humans were meant to live together in this world, and not kill one another. That combining our talents, hearts, and even genetics, would cause a new race to rise up that would be prominent and powerful throughout the entire universe. It would surpass Earth, Mars, Skaia, and every other planet. He believed that the planet would prosper, succeed, and proclaimed that he had seen a vision of a bountiful world that would last hundreds and hundreds, if not thousands, of years.

He was a prophet, a herald, a Messiah, and Visionary, who was the vessel for an invisible God…

Of course, one would expect that the humans wanted the red-eyed, tall troll preacher dead, and many of them did. Until another human stood up for him.

No one had heard of this young male before, but the moment he stepped away from the edge of a crowd, a crowd gathered at one of The Sufferer’s (Then named Signless) sermons, and came to stand next to the other, and spoke to the human dissenters that had showed up as well, all knew what he looked like. He was tall, eyes hidden by a black blindfold due to blindness, but wearing the clothes of a Knight nonetheless, with spiky, blond hair, darting out at all angles, while brandishing a cane—no, a sheathed sword—out in front of him to guide him towards the troll giving the sermon. This young man, whose name remains an invisible mystery to this very day, and even I myself shall not give it away (I know it, yes! But where is the mystery in telling you what it is? Heehee!), stood upon the rock with The Signless and proclaimed he agreed, and that humans must stand up and listen.

Well, at that point? Oh, changes began to form.

Many more humans could, and did, relent and put down their weapons, while the trolls began to follow suit, and even did so a bit beforehand. There was a chance for peace—finally, after one hundred years of bloodshed and debacles and tirades.

And if you were wondering how deep the partnership between the Knight and the Signless went, well, why leave that up to the imagination? They were lovers of a deeper form, and though The Signless had many followers, he only had eyes for the Knight who had been the first human to stand up for him, for him when he was being beaten down with boos and dissent at that particular sermon. The Knight, who was blind due to light sensitivity, and could only take off the blindfold when it was pitch black, both orbs being of a red, vibrant hue (the same hue as that of The Signless!). These men, legends and fables tell, had a love that went beyond the four quadrants of trolls and the one romance of humans.

Of course, like any good prophet and follower who entered a romantic relationship, they were brought to their knees by a powerful opposition—A woman, with an army of sea dwellers, named Her Imperious Condescension. Her wrath underneath the seas had been a vital role in the war for decades, and now that she was losing footing, even with those under her command, she became desperate, vicious, and cruel.

For it was her that put out the assassination hit on The Signless, the hit that came to pass as being a bow to the troll’s head, slicing through him and downing him instantly, blood spilling into the streets. The Knight, of course, was at his side at the time of the killing, shouting into the air as the crowd erupted in fear, running for their lives, while the others amongst The Signless’ party searched out the assassin, The Psiioniic screaming and blasting mind-waves at any and all that got close and seemed a threat. The Dolorosa, the maimed one’s mother, cradling her son’s head while the Knight joined her in the display, tears in his eyes as the Disciple wept nearby.

Though, the Signless was not dead instantly—the arrow, barbed with poison of the White Lily, entered his veins while he coughed up blood—he did not die instantly, but instead Suffered for many minutes in his Knight’s arms—and once the light left his eyes, and the Knight proclaimed a final “I love you so”, he in turn was struck down by another arrow, this one killing him instantly, shot through the heart with deadly precision. It was then that the famed assassin, The Darkleer, was grabbed by The Psiioniic and the Disciple, and his blood was spilled into the alleyway near the sermon, The Condesce’s name on his lips as his head was sliced off with a quick swipe of a claw.

One would expect that, after the deaths of the two biggest leaders of the Rebellion, the Condesce would take control, and even perhaps lead the planet into greater dictatorial eras…this was a false notion by all means, truth be told.

Instead, once it was revealed by The Orphaner Dualscar, the secret lover of The Psiioniic, that the Condesce had been the one behind the surprise attack, an all-out war against the Sea Witch began, resulting in two races, both similar and different, uniting together to destroy the sea-breathing creature that had sought to claim enough power that would have destroyed an entire planet.

Therefore, The Signless had to truly ‘suffer’ to see change in his world, and his victorious and able-bodied Knight had to follow a code of chivalry and die with him. But in the end, when the Condesce was proclaimed dead (and unfortunately The Orphaner as well, slain by The Condesce’s own hand), the two races put down their weaponry and embraced one another, taking the time to form a democracy, a coalition of men and women trolls and humans that would lead the planet into a Golden Age, The Signless and Knight never being forgotten about, their words put down in writing for every man and woman to read.

But, it was truly not just the last of The Signless in a physical, realistic sense either—for in throes of passion, he had made love with the Knight, and, according to troll custom, The Signless emptied his genetic material into the pail that the Knight always carried with him. Though he never put his own material into the pail (he was a bit squeamish with pails, but did always go into a blissful state during their copulation), he always made sure The Signless kept up his culture’s tradition; in time, that genetic material was sent to the Mother Grub, where in turn, perhaps one day, it would be used to create offspring.

And centuries passed and trolls were allowed to copulate and raise children, like those of human adults, the Mother Grub did produce troll children as well, and either gave them to humans or trolls to adopt, or sent them out to different Luses to be their Guardians; The Signless’ genetic material, however, still stayed with her, until she knew that it was time for The Signless’ son to be born…which, he would be.

Of course, the birth of the Son was not an event that was prophesied everywhere and to everyone—it was an event that was told to one religion, and one religion only, the one that still followed the texts of The Signless perfectly and fluently—the religion hand-chosen by Yours Truly Herself. It was called the MatriChurch, an organized religion run by various Mother Grubs (those under the Head Grub herself, of course) and nuns underneath their command. They opened their doors to the poor, be they human or troll, and gave them shelter, food, clothing, and warmth. Though they were poor compared to the Mega Churches that some humans had developed, they were one of the warmest and most powerful religions in the land. It was to them that the true prophecy of the world was given: that the Son of the Messiah, the New Messiah, was to be born. And his birth would herald the End of Days. This prophecy, given to them merely decades after the death of The Signless, was delivered in a bright, white light, but the voice whom spoke to them was He himself—though some would doubt that.

And one can see why this prophecy could not be given to just anyone—such a prophecy could be scoffed at, judged and proclaimed false. Some could even scoff at the notion that the son of The Signless would be a harbinger of doom—after all, his ancestor had been no such thing! But not long after the religion was formed, some say by The Dolorosa herself, this "good news" was delivered, indeed.

Of course, after centuries went by, many in the church believed it may not come true…that the world would live on forever, that the Golden Age of more technology and less hunger would exist forever; that there would be trolls of all classes with one another, that humans and trolls would interact with one another, and even fall into relationships with one another.

That all changed when one young woman, merely two sweeps old, opened her church’s door one rainy, gray day…

---

Kanaya Maryam was a Sister-in-training in the Capital of Alternia, her branch of the MatriChurch having existed for centuries before her birth. She had been a troll child born of genetic material from other trolls, having come into being thanks to the Mother Grub herself. She, being seen as having potential (and possibly the genetic material of The Dolorosa?), was sent to the church as a child, to be raised by other Mother Grubs, her jade blood being a rare and useful quality about her.

She was short at this period of time, her skin a healthy gray, eyes their normal yellow and dark-purple and gray hue, having not changed yet due to her lack of maturity. Two sweeps old, with nimble legs and lanky arms, Kanaya Maryam was proud of her heritage and her duties as a Child Sister. She learned the ways of the Mothers, the preaching and gospels that echoed out not just every Sunday, but every day and to every one.

Each night, she read—by herself! What intelligence, needing not much teaching in regards to reading—from an old, leather-bound tome, filled with Alternian script that told the teachings of The Signless in great detail, all of his travels throughout the plains of Alternia. His weary feet spoke of charity in the Forest of Helium and Crypts; his words of love echoed out in the volcanic region of Heat and Clockwork down towards the south. His travels on horseback through the Plains of Wind and Shade, a formerly desolate area of the planet that was now inhabited, were many and complete with thrilling praise and warm words. Each night, Kanaya read the tales until they were memorized in her mind. She could believe, in her childish mind, that she was walking amongst her hero’s footsteps each night as she slept, holding his other hand as his Knight held the other.

And though she loved each and every sermon dearly, the jade troll could never forget the last sermon, the final sermon that he ever spoke; the one that was not even completed due to his untimely demise:

And blood begets blood, ye of little faith,

For I have seen a clear-sighted future, where my children, the children I will one day share with this man before me, will live in peace, and we will have no need for any weaponry of any kind.

I know you worry of a future, and I know you feel threatened by the Unknown!

But thou must remember that if you believe in one another, the future will not and cannot control you in any sort of fashion.

I know you fear the End of Days, and I can honestly say you have many, many centuries before that time will come!

I know the End of Days will arrive upon the wings of four transportation vehicles, of red, white, black and a pale, crystalline sheen. The sky will alight with fire and rock, rubble and chaos.

The angels above and the demons below will come to this plain and fight, fight for power, fight for destruction. Your descendants will need to be strong, but if you prepare for it now, you will be able to be fighters and warriors of justice!

And yes, I know what will herald the End, and He alone will bring about the Doom on the Wriggling Day of his fifth sweep. He will be a strong hearted male, and he will need to choose between three ways.

And he is-

That was where the sermon ended. The Disciple, the writer of all of his sermons, had never ended it in any sort of fashion, but had left the sermon open-ended. And any and all who followed the teachings could only guess at the ending…until it was revealed to the MatriChurch itself by the Signless’ Holy Ghost.

He, in a spirit of white, ghostly eyes and gray skin, spoke to the original Mother, stating that it would be his son that would be a Harbinger of Doom, and spoke of two of the three ways the story would end:

One, his son would be taken by the demonic forces, ripped to shreds, his power given to the Leader of Hell, and the demons would raze the Earth of all life and it would be a desolate rock for the rest of Time.

Or two, his son would be taken by the angelic forces, who too would rip his body and soul to shreds, stealing his unbridled and his hidden powers to give to their Holy Lord, who would ‘cleanse’ the world of the majority of life while eliminating the demons for Eternity. Anyone deemed unworthy would die a painful, tear-causing death, and the remaining population would be small, horror-stricken, and ill with grief.

There was a third way, though, and the Mother Grub had asked of this, he said this as a reply:

I will not tell you…The world must be ready for that result for it to be revealed. And my son must be strong enough to make that sacrifice, and anyone who accompanies him as well must be brave of Heart and on Time to do so.

She also asked, ‘When will your Son come to us, Holy Messiah?’

His response:

You will know—merely look for my Sign, Mother.

His Sign, indeed. And henceforth, from that day, all those who followed the MatriChurch were told of this prophecy; but of course, as years passed, they were less inclined to believe such a thing, and were too busy in their own lives and tasks to truly care as much.

But Kanaya was taught to care, taught to look and preach the Word, and to make sure all knew that one day the world would need heroic humans and brave trolls to stand up and do their best to help save the world in its darkest hours, even if they could not fully complete said task.

Even greater to the Maryam child, though, would be the days when she would be old enough to research the Third Way—the way the Signless did not speak to them about.

Each Mother did her best to look in old tomes, desolate tombs if they were physically capable, and through maps and charters and papers, seeking out hints to where and what this Third Way would be. Kanaya, once she was of age, would continue on the tradition, bringing her own wisdom and knowledge to the experience, and would hopefully one day succeed. If she was indeed one day to succeed where her other Sisters had not, she would be a legend in the religion, a legend to rival that of the Dolorosa…

But for now, she was just a child, and took care of the church in the simplest ways; cleaning the altar and steps, straightening and organizing the books that she could carry and reach, and escorted the needy into the church and helped clean the kitchen and the bedrooms.

On the Most Important Night, as she was to later call it in the future, she was blowing out the candles that were alight with blue and yellow flames in the main center of the church, her little feet pitter-pattering down the aisle away from the altar and the metal sign of the Signless that hung behind the snow-colored clothed holy table. It had been a quiet day in the holy building, few men and women gracing its doors, but that was not a problem, in all truths. They would come when they were ready, as every loyal religious follower would.

The child was about to turn into her respiteblock on the second floor when, to her sudden surprise, loud banging occurred at the front door; a curious action indeed, for it was very late, nearing the eleventh hour of the Alternian night, and every respectable troll and human was away in their homes, or in some other part of civilization, doing business, enjoying life—surely they had somewhere else to be? Late visits were very rare to the church, for everyone knew that the Mother Grubs and Sisters had lives too, and needed their own forms of beauty rest.

At first, Kanaya, alone in the darkened holy place, figured she had misheard, and was just sleepy and needed to curl up in her cocoon soon. But the banging rang out again and again, two more times, before a thump was heard—not a loud thump mind you, but enough to startle a troll of two sweeps indeed.

Cautiously, knowing her place and duty was to check the door, the jade-blood inched closer, dropping the metallic device used to put out the candles. Green and black shoes inched across the tile floor, her Sisterly robes of matching color brushing across the floor with ninja-esque ease as she gently pressed a pale hand to the wooden door and its golden knob; inch by inch, careful and fearful that there could be danger on the other side, Kanaya opened the door to the cold, nighttime air, only to be greeted by a peculiar sight.

No, it was not an adult troll, begging for food or shelter…

It was a gray bundle, sitting atop the steps.

A gray bundle, wrapped up in a brown basket of burnt wicker material, sat before Kanaya’s childish eyes, and she let out a surprised,

“Oh my goodness!”

And it was then, at that sound, that the bundle began wailing—screeching angrily with a rage Kanaya had never seen in a babe!

Instinct told her to bend down, quickly, to look upon the child’s face—was it injured? Had that banging been an abandoning parent throwing the basket against the door? Or had it just been powerful hands signaling that there was a delivery upon the porch, this child being it? She would never know the answers to the second and third questions, but she came to find the child was uninjured.

The child—a baby male grub, of all things—continued to scream as she turned the blankets over, revealing a chubby, freckled face of yellow and purple eyes, nubby horns—the tiniest and most rotund horns she had ever seen on any troll in her two sweeps. He was plump, his grub body bright red, redder than any rose Kanaya had ever seen, and full of life, for if his screaming wasn’t an obvious sign of life, then Kanaya did not know what was. His little grubby legs were moving this way and that, perturbed at having been picked up by the girl before him.

“Shh, hush, hush!” Her size was small, but bigger than the babe by far; easily, Kanaya picked up the child, clutching it to her chest, hurrying back inside, shouting,

“Mother! Mother! Mother, come quick, please!”

The baby’s cry escalated for a moment, frightened due to Kanaya’s own fear; but when the jade blood touched his face with pale hands and black nails, giving him a simple “shh”, it hushed up immediately, murmuring dissent, but silencing himself afterwards.

“Mother! Please come! I-“

“Silence, child. I hear you.”

The Maryam child gave a jump; the Mother Grub had appeared from the door to her right, having heard her cries; the Lusus was dressed in her normal garb: black and forest green robes, her face hidden by a black veil with green flowers embedded into the embroidery. Her bug-like legs and features were invisible due to her clothing, except for her two arms used to grasp anything and everything.

“M-Mother, I am dreadfully sorry to have disturbed your sleep, but-“

“Hush, hush, I know. But first, hand me the child, and then close the door.”

With perfect obedience, the child listened and handed over the baby to her Guardian, who herself took up the child in her insect appendages, cradling him close. Kanaya speed across the floor, feet almost off the floor and floating on air at this wondrous, unusual event, and she quickly closed off the church from the outside world.

“Mother, he was just left on the doorstep! Honestly, what sort of creature does that to a poor baby? Yes, I can understand if they are orphaned, or if their Guardian or parental figures can no longer take care of them, but why not a hospital? Why us? And why this late at night? And why-“

But as Kanaya turned her body to her Mother, she froze, for her Mother’s stance was very steely, as if she had formed a new revelation in her mind while staring down at the troll baby before her.

“…Mother?”

“…Kanaya, come closer.”

The child obeyed, nervously fidgeting; she had rarely seen her Mother this stern, this…concerned.

“Mother? What ails you?”

The Lusus did not reply with words immediately; instead, she lifted an appendage, the right one that was not holding the troll in her arms. The tip of the claw brushed against some object against the child, and a clinking noise was heard—and when she lifted her arm to show Kanaya what she had spotted, a metal symbol—a necklace wrapped around the child’s neck—was revealed.

It was the symbol of the Signless.

It was the Sign of the Signless.

“…M-Mother…That is our Church’s symbol.”

“Indeed, my dear girl. But have you ever seen it upon a form of jewelry like this before?”

“…No…” Kanaya hesitated, her childish wonder showing confusion.

The Mother Grub was silent for a minute, and then let out a breath, “Kanaya, this is no ordinary orphan. We have taken in children before, yes, and given them all to good homes and homesteads…But this will not happen with this boy.”

“Because of that necklace…?”

“Yes, dear girl. This is not just…No one should have this Sign like this on a necklace. We have never portrayed the Signless’ sigil like this, not since…not since the Messiah himself wore it.”

Scarily, the Mother wondered if this necklace was His… After all these years…Had the original been put with his genetic material after his death…? And now…now…had it been given to…

This child…?

“…Kanaya. This child will remain in our care. Because he holds the Sign of the Signless. Because he is the Son of the Messiah.”

The girl’s eyes widened, “The Son of the Messiah?! Truly?”

“Yes, child; there is no other explanation for those of this faith.” The Mother bent down, softly speaking to her Daughter, while passing off the child again, who had begun to squirm and murmur more noises of annoyance, “Kanaya, take this boy into your arms again, please. I wish for you, from this day forward, to take care of this boy as if he were your biological brother—he is now your brother by association, by relationship, and you must guard him with your life. Guard him, protect him, even if I am dead at any point in your lives.”

“B-But Mother, I am merely a child! I will do what you say, but-“

“Child, do not fear—your protection will not be needed for some time, if the prophecy about this child is truthful. But even before then, take this child under your wing. Show him how to live, for we will raise him in this church, by our ways, and soon enough we will tell him who he is. We must explain what is to come with his birth and his fifth wriggling day, and from his life overall. We must explain to him his legacy, but…” She took a breath, “All in due time. For now, I want you to take the child into your room—he will be small enough to sleep with you in your recuperacoon, and I shall build him a proper one tomorrow morn. Understood?”

Kanaya, clearly nervous, sucked in a breath and put on a stern face, nodding once, “Yes, Mother. Thy will be done.”

“And thy blessings go to you in slumber, child. Peace. And two final things: one—make sure he never leaves this church whatsoever. You are to help raise him, and you must watch over him. He must never leave this property whatsoever; danger awaits him, and I do not want him perishing while under our watch. Second, he must never open the door to this church."

“Never open the door?” Kanaya echoed, “Why ever not?”

“His presence alone invites the alertness of demons and angels—normally, this church is warded against them—you have seen the symbols on the basement ceiling, yes? But I fear…I fear that if the Son of the Messiah himself invites them in, the wards will be null and void. Please, do not ever let him take that chance.”

“Understood, Mother. Once again, thy will be done.”

The Mother Grub nodded, “And thy blessings go to you in slumber, child.”

Kanaya began walking once more, towards her own respiteblock, with the grub curled up against her shoulder, when, of course, another thought stopped her in her tracks with a gasp,

“Oh! Mother! What shall we call the child? He has no name!”

The Mother, who had turned back to her own block, stopped, with her back to the troll child; a pause, but then she straightened her back, replying with,

“…Karkat. Karkat Vantas.”

“…Why that name, Mother? What does it mean?”

The Mother was silent; she could not tell the girl that she had heard the name in a vision, seen it too, seen it in flames on a wall, while her own body died in pit of fire and rock, while the vultures in the sky cried out in anger and thirsting for vengeance and souls. But she had, immediately after the dream, known what the name meant:

“Knight of Blood, child. Knight of Blood. Now go.”

Kanaya, in all her young wisdom, asked no more, and immediately obeyed her Mother’s commands, hustling off to her respite block with swift, speedy feet; meanwhile, the Mother—the powerful Sister she was—retreated to her own block, and once securely inside, crashed to her kneels with a gasp.

So this was it—the Son had finally come. He, in all his adorable, red glory, was here in her Church—and now it was her fate to bring him up and raise him well, hopefully with a good head on his shoulders.

Well, yes, he would have Kanaya—she had seen her other Child, and how she was truly the descendant of The Dolorosa. Kanaya had the blood of the First Mother in her, and would turn into Karkat’s Mother—even if it would cost her precious things. Yet embraced in the light of her candles, the Mother Grub had seen that the Maryam would take this all in stride, and shoulder many burdens to come—she would begin researching soon enough of a way to save the world—the Third Way The Signless had begun to mention, and she would find a way—though it would be through…unorthodox means. But good means, nonetheless.

And here, at the Eleventh Hour, the Mother Grub removed her veil and knelt at her own private altar, feeling jade tears coming to her eyes, as the visions—the visions that never gave a warning to when they came to her, a woe that came with being the Head Sister—came to her again. There was so much blood, so much anger…

A Warring Empress in a Red Ship…

A Humble Host, a Man of White…

A Black Knife-Wielding Loon…

And green…Green for a Man who was already, always Here…

There were screams, and some were even of her new Son’s name…

But it all ended in a blast of white light, and the Mother gasped—swearing she had just seen the face of God…

But a calm settled over her, her bug-esque shoulders shaking, but her breathing calmed enough to where she was able to stand and enter her cocoon for slumber…

And she knew what she had to do: stand tall, and live.

After all…

If she only had five more sweeps left to live…

Surely she had to live them to the fullest, yes?

Chapter Text

One

Blessed Be the Fire

~ Five Sweeps Later ~

He liked hiding in the shadows, really. Sure, he had been told to keep to himself as soon as he was old enough to understand the damn language of humans and trolls, but he had actually agreed with it, funny enough…

Ehem. Excuse the language, for when the narrator speaks of this protagonist, anger always seems to creep up in the story! I dreadfully apologize. But it is actually quite a normal phenomenon—you see, his anger—ah, well; you will find that out later. Moving on!

Yes, he had agreed with the pronouncement to stay hidden in the church—not fully invisible, for he could interact with guests that were deemed safe—but in the shadows enough to where he was rarely noticeable, unless he boisterously spoke up—and he often did.

Not that Karkat really cared if others cared when he ‘boisterously’ spoke.

Nor did Karkat care about it even if it was a special day—and yes, today was a special day. His Wriggling Day, if you have to bloody ask. And how was he spending it? Curled up against a column of the church, watching as guests sat amongst the pews sat with their heads bowed in prayer. And what a mix of guests there were! Trolls of all hues sitting amongst each other, holding hands with one another, and holding hands with humans of all shapes, sizes and colors.

He dreamt of a world like this, you know…That is what his Mother had told him as soon as he was old enough to walk; that their Savior had preached and wanted a world so much like this one, and here it was—standing tall and proud. Sure, there was still some hatred for each other, but then again, that hatred was more just, and more…well. Spread even. And hell, Karkat? He just mostly hated everybody.

And yes, he knew—he knew that their Savior was his genetic Ancestor—technically, by all standards, his blood father. Son of the Messiah, his Mother and Kanaya called him with pride, and yes, by now, he knew the story of his “Fate”.

Not that he really believed that whole nonsense…Okay, he could maybe believe the Son of the Messiah part, but the end of the world? We’re talking shit here, right?

At that thought, Karkat snorted, watching from the shadows as two children got up from the pews to receive the blessing from the Mother, who was bent over with more frailty these days. It was unusual, but hey, the Vantas could guess she was getting on in age.

He could not help but watch them with mixed feelings, in all their happiness, as he fiddled with the necklace he had never taken off his neck—the Sign of the Signless, they called it. The smooth two circles with tails brushed against nubby fingers that matched in size the horns that still refused to grow after all these years. Bushy hair sprouted from all over, and Kanaya, at this point in their lives, found it a wonderful idea to ruffle it every so often—as in, every day.

His current feelings, though, mainly stemmed not from being annoyed at hair ruffling, but about his own self—sure, okay, Son of the Messiah. Not such a bad deal—the guy seemed pretty cool, actually wanting people to get along, love one another, yadda yadda, and apparently he was loved by a lot of people, and had this one great guy and all that bullshit. And after all, he had been found with this necklace by his Mother and Kanaya years ago, and his blood was candy-red—the color of the Signless.

But this…End of Days, stuff? Yeah, Karkat knew it was supposed to happen on his Fifth Wriggling Day, but was that really all true? Who said that the translation of the whole thing hadn’t gotten jumbled along the way? That happened all the time, right?

Maybe, deep down, Karkat did not want to believe he was capable of causing such…destruction. Such pain. That just by being born, by existing, people would die…

Truly, each time he thought about his prophecy, his mood plummeted, and he could and did feel his anger boil over to the surface in his body, sometimes finding himself growling for no particular reason, and he would be lying if he said it never scared the other Sisters in the MatriChurch.

And it scared him, too.

His existence scared him…

So did the constant nightmares that came in his sleep on a nightly basis—clearly seen from the permanent dark circles under his eyes—but everyone already knew about those.

So maybe Karkat did not mind being hidden in the shadows—the patrons knew of him, but not who he truly was. If they knew that the Son was standing only five feet away, they probably would either become elated with joy, or grab the pitchforks and crucify him.

Another growl came up from his throat, and the Vantas child pulled his legs closer to his body, huddling more into himself; dressed all in dark hues, with a black turtleneck sweater and gray slip-on pants, he matched the black color of the MatriChruch perfectly, even if he refused to wear green.

A sigh escaped his lips as the sermon for this Holy Day was beginning to end, and Karkat heard soft footsteps come up behind him; lifting his gray-skinned head, his yellow and purple eyes rested on Kanaya herself, having stepped down from the altar in secrecy, and came to stand beside him.

“You look deep in thought.”

My, how much she had grown—she was seven-point-four sweeps old, and looked like it indeed. Her eyes had changed, and were now filling in with jade hues, showing signs of maturity, even if there were still a few years left before she reached full adulthood. Her robes had become more elegant: her skirt had slanted green and black lines, with fuller lines towards her rear; her shoulders framed by pointed ends, with black fabric draped over her chest in form fitting style, with green loops towards the bottom. A collar stretched across her neck, and a veil hung from her shoulders, brushing down to the ground.

Dressed like this—in a robe she herself created, apparently inspired by The Dolorosa—she brought back memories that were not his own, and yes, that scared him…but these were not true memories, merely flashes of warmth, and kindness, and for his five sweeps, Kanaya Maryam had been nothing but kind to Karkat, so perhaps it was just the truth echoing in his mind…but he was hesitant to believe so.

“Aren’t I always deep in thought?”

“Hmm,” She hummed, “Not always. Most of the time yes, but not like this.” Despite the floor being probably dirty, and despite her robe being elegant and borderline-holier-than-thou-in-a-good-way, Kanaya sat, curling up next to the other troll, “What is troubling you?”

A shrug was the response Kanaya received, and she laughed in a melodic tone,

“Karkat, really. What is it?”

“I just…Stuff.”

“Mmhm. Would this stuff, pray tell, have anything to do with your Wriggling Day? Which is today, if I’m not mistaken.”

Karkat sighed, finding his body calming down in his Sister’s presence, “It’s just a lot to think about…I mean, I don’t even believe half the shit Mother told me, but. Whatever, it’s no big deal.”

"Yes, but you know what is? It being your Wriggling Day.” Kanaya let out another little laugh, as if she was trying to lighten the mood, trying to make it the best of times in a dire situation…which…was she?

“Uh, yeah, that’s not really big news. I’m freaking older, so what?” Karkat snorted, stretching out his legs in annoyance.

“You are now five sweeps old. The humans would call you a teenager at this point.”

“Ooh!” Karkat rolled his eyes, “I’d be fourteen years old. Yipee! Let’s get a cake and celebrate me turning into a juvenile delinquent, Kanaya. Then I can go off skipping into the sunset while setting buildings on fire and stealing candy from children and grubs!”

“Do not be sarcastic with me, even though I’ve told you not to do so how many times now?” She chuckled, “And be happy—some trolls never make it this far. You have come a long way.”

“Yeah, for not being able to ever leave this building—ever. Did I mention I can never leave?”

Okay, maybe that was a bit of a stretch—sure, he was allowed to leave—under guarded supervision. And sure, maybe Karkat snuck away—under unguarded supervision.

“If you continue to complain, I will not give you your gift.” Kanaya quipped with a smirk, hands resting atop her knees.

“…Gift?”

“Of course. Every troll receives at least one on his birthday, correct? Why should you be an exception?”

“Because I’m not exactly a normal troll, Kanaya. I’ve lived forever in this church, I’m apparently some hot-shot’s son and our Mother and the other Sisters, and probably you, think I’m supposed to end the world.”

A pause from the elder female, and after a heartbeat she replied, with a wan smile, “You do not know what I think, Karkat. So don’t assume.”

“But you do think that, right?”

The Maryam placed her fingers in the younger’s hair, giving it a soft ruffle, “You don’t need to know my thoughts. Just know that I have faith in you.”

A snort, “Thanks. That’s really uplifting, Kan.”

“Oh, stop this sulking, Karkat. It is your Wriggling Day! And no matter what happens, that is a good thing, right?”

He was silent, because he knew she would not want to hear his true thoughts; for how could his Wriggling Day be a good thing if he was meant to end so many, many innocent lives? Lives that were so much worthier than his—lives that were like Kanaya’s, or the other Sisters’, or even these people here, praying in the church.

In Karkat’s mind, he himself was not a being one could label “worthy”. An insomniac haunted by nightmares for years, skinny and bony and still immature with childish-colored eyes; messy hair that he never seemed to be able to tame; horns that were nubs and never grew into powerful points or something worth praising. Heck, his favorite color was black! What did that say about him?

“Come, come, stop brooding. We’re going outside. You have not been in the gardens in ages, I know. Mother should be awaiting us; she has a whole lunch planned for you!”

“Fine, fine…Whatever.” He sighed, standing and brushing off his clothes; turning, Karkat offered a hand to his Sister, bringing her to her feet, and he actually gave a little smile—she was more than a Sister to him, for she was a Sister to him. A Mother, too, because a Mother Grub lusus could only be so loving, so compassionate. Kanaya had been the one to wipe away his tears as a child when he would fall, the one to hug him when the nightmares had begun at such a young age, showing him visions he did not and could not understand. She helped him with food, with chores, and had been by his side the entire time…

It was Kanaya now that put a hand on his shoulder and guided him towards the back door of the church, the wooden entrance situated in the dark corridor to the left of the altar; it was she that opened the door out to the back gardens of the church that Karkat visited often, even though the majority of those times had been in secret, and without permission.

Something about the gardens (and the woods farther behind the property line, here at the edge of the city) always calmed the Vantas child; the roses and lilies were potent in scent, and he always liked to breathe them in, and as a child he would curl up among the leaves and thorns, impervious to the pricks and dagger-sharp dangers some of the flowers could hold, hiding away from the world for a short time. The apple tree in the far left corner of the garden was his other favorite hiding place as a child, the fruit delicious and ripe during the warmest months of the sweep, its shade never-ending whenever the leaves were blooming happily.

It was hard not to smile while Karkat stood at this spot, gazing at something in his world that was…comforting, of all things.

It was hard to not grin as he noticed the Mother Grub sitting amongst plates filled with troll delicacies, and a human cake in the middle of it all, surrounded by troll meats and cheeses and vegetables that their race had been eating and using to create other dishes for eons; here, in this little corner of the world, Karkat Vantas was being honored, even if he did not believe he deserved it.

And sure, a part of him wondered if Kanaya and the Mother were trying to cheer him up, and were hoping that it would be a normal Wriggling Day, and were praying for it, probably. They were not necessarily faking their emotions, but were trying to do their best to pretend it was like the last sweep, and the one before it, too. But deep down, the red-blooded troll realized this…was not such a horrible idea. Perhaps if they hoped enough, pretended enough, it would actually come true…

And it was not hard for Karkat to shuffle over to his Mother and sit next to her, as she offered him a plate of food, Kanaya coming to join him not a few seconds later; crazy enough, it did seem like another one of their ordinary family meals—those ones where they would joke and chortle and even laugh with one another. Truly! For here, in the afternoon, Kanaya jested about his clothing (again), whether he had caught the eye of another male or female troll yet (again), while the Mother spoke in dulcet tones, comforting words and wishes, saying she was proud of how far he had come, and that one day he would take over this MatriChurch…as if she actually believed in this hope…

Part of Karkat wanted to believe it, too; ever since he had been told of Who he really was, a stubborn part of him did (and still did) believe that his life could continue on as normal as it possibly could be. One day, he would marry someone with whom he could share a life with (male or female, he was pretty sure he would not care; but now, of course, this hope had lessened, for he did not find himself to be truly worthy), have a profitable career in the church, and would actually be able to make friends outside this enclosed religious home.

And each time there was something grand in his life, like this afternoon picnic with his Family, hope for normalcy grew—his life had not been perfect thus far, but it was not horrible…

After most of the meal had been consumed, this thought, the thought that things were not so horrible after all, drifted into Karkat’s mind as he lay out in the grass, taking in the scents many in the big and towering cities envied. His Maryam companion sat next to him, reading from another one of her dusty tomes with a cordial smile on her face, the Mother reading her own book of religious sermons. The boy’s wide eyes could not help but gaze up at the tree in front of him, only a few feet away from his body. It called out to him, the sweet fruit and its juices having not danced upon his tongue in ages.

Slowly, he stood, asking, “You want one too, Kan?”

“Hmm? An apple? Certainly.” Came the reply, Kanaya nodding as she turned the page with a lick of her finger, and a swish of paper turning on paper, the sound gently breaking the silence in the garden.

Silence that was peaceful, and the boy reveled in it, as he felt he should…

But as his hand gripped a red apple, and snapped it from the tree, that lone sound breaking through the garden’s peace…

…Something seemed off…

Kanaya must have sensed it as well, because she too lifted her head from her book, eyes wide, mouth in an “o” of confusion; but Karkat did not have his eyes linger on his Sister for too long, and instead turned his eyes skyward, feeling…feeling off, feeling as if the wind had stopped blowing its gentle breeze and had become stagnant instead...

And there, there was the reason for the discord that had immediately entered his body…

High, high in the sky, zooming through the crystalline sky at a powerful speed, breaking through the white clouds and blue sky…

Was a meteor…

Red, black, and brown and angry…

And heading right for Karkat and his family in the garden…

Time slowed to a snail’s pace, and all was silent, as Karkat realized the truth as he stood there, frozen to the spot as the fiery rock became larger and larger in his vision; his hand should have dropped that damn apple—but the Vantas’ whole body seemed unable to work, his legs petrifying into the hardest and most immovable marble in the world, his lungs feeling as if they were filling up with water, and he was drowning, drowning in fear…

And drowning in Reality…

It was speeding up, quicker and quicker, and Karkat kept screaming in his head, “MOVE FUCKASS, MOVE! MOVE MOVE!” but no movement ever came, and he knew this was it, he was going to die, and the world was going to end, and-

“KARKAT, MOVE!”

Somehow, in some miraculous way, Kanaya did not freeze to the ground when she saw the meteor plummeting to the ground, and instead screamed with rage and despair.

She flung herself at the other troll, throwing her body as hard and fast as she could as she grabbed the boy, hugging him close, as close as she could, hurdling them towards the church.

Karkat, eyes wide, could only stare over the elder troll’s shoulder as the meteor came closer and closer, fire and rocks dancing down from the gargantuan rock; and before it finally touched down in the middle of the garden, the Vantas saw the Mother calmly sitting amongst the food and the blankets and flowers, tears of jade hue streaming down her face…

And she gave the other a final, sorrowful smile, and a wave goodbye…

And seconds later, the outer-stellar rock crashed into the ground with an explosion and a bang, the demolition of it and the ground sending the two troll children farther away from it; and it was clear Kanaya had saved the other just in time.

Fire and sparks crackled after the crash, and Karkat could barely catch his breath, but when he struggled into a sitting position, he felt the air rush back into his lungs in fear—the rock had crushed the majority of the garden, fires starting in many of the plants and bushes…

And had completely crushed the Mother, her bug-like appendages sticking out in a grotesque fashion.

The sight was enough of a shock to Karkat that he let out a scream of, “MOTHER!” with a choked sob coming out immediately after—he felt tears brewing in his eyes like hot water for tea, and red liquid poked at his eyes, “Oh dear GOD, MOTHER!”

Kanaya, in a state of panic, kept a hand braced against the wall at Karkat’s back, eyes staring at nothingness, her body doing its best to shield the other, even though she herself was covered in debris and dust all over, including her skin, hair and clothes. It took another moment of sobbing from the other before she took in a breath and snapped out of her stupor.

“GET INSIDE!” It was a shriek, her face firm as a stone, and the jade-blooded stood immediately, yanking Karkat out of his sitting-crouch so he stood, “GET INSIDE NOW!”

She gave the order, running with all her might and dragging the ghostly-pale Karkat inside, the boy still crying out of shock and heartbreak…

Because this was it.

Meteors—the first one—had finally fallen.

Crashed into the ground, though, was probably a more accurate description.

Karkat’s mind blanked, and it felt as if he was in an out-of-body experience as Kanaya dragged him into the heart of the church, the female keeping him close to her body as if she was a living shield (crazy enough, she was); when they finally reached the center of the building, she stood in front of the altar, bending down to clutch Karkat close, hands shaking as they rested on his elbows.

The male troll himself, eyes glazed over in fear, breathing labored from the run and the rush of adrenaline, felt himself ready to fall to the ground, and feared he would have if Kanaya did not have a steel-vice grip on his body. Neither spoke for a few moments, until both turned to look out the front windows, a hodge-podge of stain-glass colors of reds and blues, with yellows and greens and purples sprinkled in; their colors were alight with bright light…the light of fire.

It seemed that the entire town had not been spared, as both hoped it would have been—smaller rocks had landed, setting off a chain of fires out in the city, crashing and burning and destroying whatever they touched. In all actuality, only five meteors total had landed so far, but already, the news was spreading outside the Capital, and out into the nearby cities and metropolises, and eventually those in observatories would spot more meteors coming to Alternia in the distant space, appearing—as if—out of nowhere.

Kanaya finally shook her head, ignoring the commotion outside the church, and spoke with a shaking voice,

“Karkat, I…I need you to stay here. Right here, you understand?”

“W-What—What do you mean? Are you going somewhere!?”

She nodded, “Yes. This is-“

But Karkat cut her off, “Fuck no! You are not going out there, and you are not going to finish that sentence. I know what you were going to fucking say and I don’t want to hear it, okay?”

“Karkat…We cannot just ignore this. You know what this is! I know you’re upset and I know you’re angry-“

“UPSET? ANGRY? I just watched my Mother—okay, surrogate mother—get fucking killed right in front of my eyes and by all technicalities, it’s my fault! Why the hell would I be angry at that, Kanaya?! And now you’re telling me you want to go out there into that mess! So excuse me if I just want to pretend that this isn’t fucking happening because of my own cursed presence on this God-forsaken rock of a planet!”

The Vantas boy shook somewhat, but did not register the tears that were starting to flow out of his eyes, but Kanaya herself did; she lifted a bony hand to brush his cheeks, a sorrowful smile on her face,

“I cannot understand your pain, but I understand your anger and your denial. But I need you to listen to me. What was decided by those before us is happening, and I am not going to ask you to put on a smile and accept it. But I need you to let your emotions out now, calm yourself, and stay right here. I have a plan.”

A sniffle came from the younger troll, “Last time I checked I don’t have an option, Kan. You and Mother told me that it was either death by freakish demons, or death by freakish angels. You never found the third option.”

The Maryam woman took on a stony face at that comment, mouth drawing into a thin line; her makeup had smudged down her face, eyeliner dripping a bit onto her cheeks and lipstick stained on her lips by blood and dirt. Karkat’s soul, the part of him that was brotherly, wanted to wipe away the wreckage on her face; but his mind was more curious about her expression, and slowly, like a rising sun, an answer dawned in the red-blood’s mind.

“Kan…Did…Did you…You found the third option?”

She said nothing in return, but stood to her full height and bent a bit to kiss Karkat’s forehead, “I don’t know. But I know someone who may be able to help, and she may have the third option we need. But I am running out of time—I need you to stay right here, right on the steps of this altar, and I will be back shortly.”

“B-But where are you going!? Fuck, I can’t just sit here while those things fall!”

“I believe they may have stopped for the time being, or it will at least take longer for the rest to come. Remember, the world isn’t supposed to end by meteors falling, dear.”

Kanaya briskly strode to the doors of the church, grabbing her outdoor coat, a thin sweater of green, and pulled down her veil over her face—partly out of vanity, and partly out of fear of being spotted.

“T-Then where are you going?” Karkat sat down, with aching legs and feet, atop of the steps leading to the altar, “Is it far?”

“It is on the edge of the city, yes, but I should be able to get there in time. And you have my phone number if you need me, dear."

“Yeah, but where are you going? Tell me! What if something happens to you and I need to find you?!”

“Nothing will happen to me, brave one,” The girl gave a smile underneath the cloth that hid her face, the black and green concealing her features perfectly, “It is you that needs protecting. Stay here, and promise me, promise me: Do NOT, for whatever reason, open this door after I leave! Promise me!”

“B-But what if-“

“PROMISE!” It was a shout, a desperate plea, and Karkat only found himself replying with a nod, whispering,

“Y-Yes, I promise…”

“Thank you. I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

“…Just be safe, okay?” He truly did not know what else to say to her, and could only give a desperate, trying-to-be-hopeful, smile as the female troll exited the building, and while those doors were open for a few, fleeting seconds, Karkat could hear the screams of terror echoing out in the outside world, and the moment Kanaya slammed the door shut, he gulped in terror.

It really was happening…the first meteor was not just a random happenstance.

But Karkat did not need to see the outside world to know that fact…something in his blood told him so…It was if parts of him were on fire, and were glowing from the inside—as if some time bomb had kicked off its countdown in his bloodpusher organ, and the electric flow of fear was traveling everywhere, from up to his thinkpan down to his tiny feet.

He could only hang his head, a pulsing sounding out in that part of his body, hands and claws gripping into his hair; for once, for the first time, in his life he felt fear and confusion at the unknown, and he could only hope that whatever was going to happen next happened soon…Karkat could not take the inevitable pause in events that was happening now, and he could not stand to feel so useless, and so exposed, in his normally-safe home.

“Please hurry back…”

He needed answers, needed reprieve, reprieve from feeling like a behemoth, a monster, in a world of good people; needed sanctuary from the idea that if he had never been born, none of this would happen…

He needed a break from the visions that had started coming into his mind since a month ago, little flashes of scenes he had no definitions of, no answers to, and they were so fuzzy at this early stage in his powers that he sometimes wondered if they were just daydreams…but when they started happening in greater frequency, he could not deny what they were.

And as he sat upon the steps, he could only see sit there in fear as his eyes glowed red, a bright shade of red, and he saw streets filled with blood, and his own sister suffer and take a blow through the stomach and fall to the ground in pain, while a female in gold stood above her…

And there was a flash of red and steel, and red and gold, and white and green…

They were colors, but they were burning onto his mind, staining his conscience, and Karkat wanted to scream but his throat was closed up from everything, and he just wanted something…

Something else, someone else…

He just did not want to face his damnation alone…

----

Kanaya had never run this fast before (it was an unlady-like thing to do!) but she certainly did not care now. The moment she had stepped outside the church, and heard the screams of trolls and humans, some clutching their children in fear as they stared up at a blue sky with dotted meteors heading their way, and staring at those that had already landed, Kanaya burst into a sprint, not even taking the time to stop and ask for a ride anywhere—not that any sane person would have given her one now.

She ran, slippers tripping on rocks and crags of rocks and debris of houses and homes, her body jumping over benches and around trees…

Down one alley, then another, then another…Avoiding being seen lest someone spot a Sister out in the chaos around her acting calm and quiet, acting as if she had been turned from ivory to steel, acting in some form of militaristic mode, focusing clearly on her mission.

Twenty minutes of avoiding spectators and gawkers, she finally reached the edge of the city; the guards of the Capital were on the alert, so with sneaky skills, Kanaya kept to the shadows of the gates, eluding them the best she could, and eventually managing to get to a hole in the ground underneath the wall. With deft digging and clawing, she emerged on the other side a few moments later, dirt clinging to her robes, but too absorbed in her task to care.

Because she could see her destination from where she stood now.

A few more moments more, dodging trees and dead logs on the ground, eventually throwing off her veil after it caught on a stray, prodding branch, she finally stood in the place she had sought for over thirty minutes:

The Temple of Light.

It stood and proud, golden walls akin to those of ancient Asian cultures on Earth, temple roofs steeping off in elegant swirls and twirls; there were multiple buildings, each with at least one hundred steps, in honor of the Hundred Founders of the ancient religion

And here specifically stood a sect of Seers and Sylphs of Light, a religion from the days of old, the temple itself having been erected outside the Capital years ago, and it stood there today, proud and glorious and shimmering.

And she hoped that, after many conversations in the past, the answers she sought finally awaited her inside.

Hurrying, only stopping to take off her slippers as she ran up the steps, she took them two and then three at a t time, not stopping for any sort of breaths. And when Kanaya tripped once, she pulled herself back up, and wiped the cut on her lips that she got with a quick swipe, and continued the rest of her journey as fast as possible.

Simpleton cuts on her face be damned.

Finally, the wide open entrance stood before her, and she felt she could collapse for a moment to gather herself, and she did just that, her knees hitting the ground with a thud, breaths coming out faster than they had ever done so.

The noise that accompanied Kanaya’s arrival alerted the Sylph who always sat at the entrance to the temple each day; hurriedly, her little feet pattered along, yellow and orange robes fluttering behind her.

“Kanaya!” The troll was of short stature, and wearing blue glasses that brought out her hollowed-out white eyes; many of the Sylphs and Seers in the Temple of Light were blind, in order to achieve a higher sense of knowledge, and this blindness was usually taken on their shoulders as children. Her lips were a similar dark blue hue, as were the fluttering wings stretching out from her back. Though not all the Sylphs achieved the high, prominent status of being winged creatures, this troll, this Aranea Serket, had done so just over a year ago.

“Aranea!” Kanaya returned the shout as the blue-blood helped her to her feet, “I need to see Rose, immediately.”

The Serket girl frowned, hands coming together in a fidgeting manner, “I apologize, Miss Kanaya, but Rose does not wish to be disturbed. She is meditating.”

“I do not have time for Rose to be meditating! Can you not see what is going on!?” The Maryam shouted in retaliation, pointing to the pinpricks in the sky that were alight with fire, and coming closer and closer to the ground.

“I know! B-But she clearly stated-“

“And I am overriding her statement, Aranea. Take me to her immediately.”

The blue-blood gave a sigh, but nodded her head and lead the way into the temple. The walkway consisted of orange and white tiles, while silver and snow-white candles hung on the walls, their lights shining off the yellow drapes and marble floors. There were numerous halls on Kanaya’s left and right sides, each opening up to other bedrooms and meditation halls; with careful eyes, she could see other Seers hiding and curiously poking their heads out, trying to catch a glimpse at this foreign Sister.

After another moment, Aranea pushed back curtains in front of them, revealing the inner-most chamber of the Temple, containing a skylight; sunlight lit up the room, and gave the enclosed space a new sense of life, and gave the trees and flowers planted in miniature gardens joy. The center pavilion was made of glass as well, and was adorned with yellow and orange plush pillows, while the farthest wall was home to the Sigil of the Seers and Sylphs—a giant sun made out of silver metal, the Symbol of Light that had existed since the religion was created years ago.

But Kanaya’s eyes had no need to gaze upon the Temple’s adornments—she had seen them for months. Instead, she turned her orbs upon the young human female situated amongst the pillows, her head bowed.

“F-Forgive me, Miss Rose, but Kanaya-“

“I knew she was coming, Aranea. Her presence is not a disturbance,” was the reply that came from the girl, whose body was in orange robes with yellow trim, the Sigil prominently on her chest, while a hood of dark orange hid her face, "Please. Leave us."

Aranea nodded, and skirted out of the room, closing the doors behind her with rapid speed.

“…Kanaya. It is a pleasure to see you again-“

“Do you honestly believe we have time for pleasantries?” Kanaya crossed her arms with a soft sigh, the motion causing Rose to smile, even if the human’s eyes remained hidden, and trained, possibly, on the ground.

“…It is Karkat’s Fifth Wriggling Day, yes?”

“Rose! This is not a joking matter! In case you have not realized-“

“In case you have not realized, Kanaya, I have known that this was to happen for some time. Seer, remember? Calm yourself.”

Kanaya let out a breath, “You and I have been working in tandem for months to find the Third Way that my Messiah left as a secret, and the last time I was here, you told me you found it out. Is that true?”

Rose paused, and once again smiled, “Yes. It is true.”

“Then I need to know this information! Today! It has started, and-“

“And do you honestly believe that you finding out this information at this very moment will help solve all your problems? Don’t mistake my question, though, I will share with you what I know, because I am on your side. But you must answer a question of mine in return.”

Kanaya snorted, “Is this some sort of Lightgame?”

That caused the other to laugh out a melody that made the troll roll her eyes, “No. But If I am going to be helping you and your religion, you should be willing to give me something I desire in return. It is only fair. Think of it as a form of equivalent exchange, like that found in alchemy.”

“You never spoke of this before!” Frustrated, the Maryam growled, but shook her head and relented, “Fine. What is it that you want, Rose Lalonde, the prophetic Seer of Light?”

Silent for a moment, Rose kept her eyes trained on the floor, but her shoulders were tense, as if she feared the reaction she would receive from Kanaya; but after a moment, her soft voice spoke up again,

“I wish for you to stay here with me during the ordeal that is to come from the Son of Messiah’s birthright. Stay by my side as we venture further into what is to come, and then when this is all over, I want you to reside here in the Temple, with my sisters and I, and you will stay here until our lives end.”

“…You are serious.”

“Yes. That is what I desire, nothing more, nothing less. Do you agree?”

It was an unusual proposal, and it made Kanaya quite inquisitive as to where it had come from. Why would Rose wish to have her spend her life here? It did not seem to be an anti-MatriChruch crusade, because Rose had repeatedly spoke of how she accepted Kanaya’s beliefs and did not care they were from two different walks of life.

So was it a bid for friendship? Sure, the two women had bonded in secret over the past few months while looking up different literature and maps and past journals from ages old; they had searched every crevice of the Capital and the dregs of the Temple of Light for information, while joking and laughing all the mean while. They had shared small lunches and even smaller high-fives of victory, and they had become something akin to friends.

But why would Rose ask her to stay…?

“What of my MatriChurch duties? Are you asking me to give them up?”

“Not in the least. Your church is very close to your heart, and I would never take that away from you. All I ask is that you live here with me in the Temple, and assist me when I need it.”

It seemed to be a call for friendship…As if Rose was afraid that when this was all over, she would lose Kanaya’s presence…Did she care that much…?

And yes, Kanaya realized that when this was all over, Karkat would most likely not be around, one way or another, and she would be without her closest companion…So being in Rose’s presence would not truly be such a burden, yes?

“I accept your deal. Now tell me what you know.”

Rose gave a smile, and slowly stood, her long legs unfolding to reveal feet wrapped in sky-blue slippers, and blonde hair on her head as she pulled back her hood.

“Excellent. Though I already knew you would agree, Kanaya.”

Purple eyes sparkled with mirth, and Rose hopped down the glass square, while the skylight was dotted with a single meteor streaking across the sky, and both women turned to gaze up at it, mouths set in a firm line as Rose spoke again,

“Now come with me. And let’s hurry.”

----

His eyes kept flashing red, and it made Karkat want to pull out his short locks and stubby horns; the visions had never existed in the daylight for this long before, and the psychological pain was extremely unusual for him. He had nightmares, flashes of pain in his sleep, but they had never been this vivid, and you knew when they came and when they went.

These, though, these…abominations in his mind…they never warned him as he sat on the steps, and every few minutes, when he felt he could take a breath of air and relax, he was struck down and would let out a little scream.

“G-God damn it, Kanaya, where are you…?”

He growled, fangs showing, and all he could think about was his dead Mother in the back garden, and the screams from outside-

…Wait…

What screams?

Karkat shook his head, ears buzzing from the last vision of children running from fire, and realized that it was completely silent outside the church.

There were no more screams of terror reaching him…

Did it mean the meteors had stopped falling for now?

Oh, he prayed that was true…But Karkat had seen ones in the sky before he had been ushered into the church, so the first round may be over, but the entire ordeal was not.

He could only hope that everyone in the city had hidden as best as they could, and were preparing themselves. More were sure to come and-

BANG.

…A noise.

A loud, powerful noise had echoed out just then, and it had made the Vantas boy jump with fear.

…BANG.

Gray and yellow eyes looked about, but did not find a source-

BANG

With the third hit, Karkat gulped in trepidation…

…Someone was banging on the church’s front door.

----

They stood in a study, the study they had occupied for weeks—but there was one big difference.

A giant map of Alternia stretched across the Eastern wall of it, with a big red circle across a specific patch of land on the far right hand side of to it.

“This is it?” Kanaya asked, pointing to the circled area.

“Indeed. The place I have found that will solve our conundrum is called the Altar of Blood.”

“And what is that?”

Rose smiled, coming to stand next to her companion while opening a large tome, turning to a page written in Trollian, an ancient language she had been taught by Seers before her.

“Last time we spoke, we found writings on the Cult of Blood, and I did more research. It turns out not to be a Cult, but more specifically a Sect. A sect of your church that was abandoned centuries ago.”

“A sect?” Kanaya gasped, then scoffed at the notion, “I have never heard of this Cult.”

“Cult is probably a misnomer, and was appropriated because it was such a secluded sect; many probably assumed they were doing blood sacrifices because of their name. But in fact, they were quite docile and, get this, many of their members were humans.”

“…How is that a surprise?”

“Your religion’s Messiah is a troll. From what I can gather, this Sect was made of the majority of human males—some of them possibly possessing powers of Time and Space. But it is the human aspect that is important, for they were followers not just of The Signless, but of his human lover. Apparently, after said lover’s daring sacrifice with The Signless, many human males took on a role of preacher hood, and believed that there was power in one’s blood, but not one's birthright.”

“…I am unsure what you mean.” Kanaya gave the girl a puzzled look, coming to sit on a stool.

“They believed that his human lover was special, in that his blood made him the perfect candidate to be with your Messiah, and they believed that your Messiah had his own special blood, and possibly powers—I would not be surprised if he did, yes. Regardless, they set up their own sect of the MatriChurch, just for males, as your church is just for female Sisters. But they kept to themselves, praying to your Messiah—and his lover. They revered him just as much, and felt he was an important part. Some even proclaimed that he had had the powers of Time, which are in short supply these days.”

“Alright, but how does that help us, Rose?”

“Your Mother named the Son ‘Karkat’—did she ever say why?”

Kanaya shook her head, causing Rose to nod,

“It means ‘Knight of Blood’, as I’m sure she already told you. I was curious about his name, so I meditated at the end of last week, after we had found this information. It was revealed to me that the Cult of Blood had a name for their priests—it was, yes, ‘Knights of Blood’. Of course, they weren’t all named ‘Karkat’, because that would have been silly!” Rose laughed, “But that was their official title. They felt it was a combination of both The Signless’ title, and his lover, and that it was appropriate.”

“…Therefore, you think there is a connection between Karkat and this altar because of his name?”

“Yes, but that is not the only reason. More than likely, your Mother saw, in a vision, that she was to name the boy this, and, if I had to guess, she saw the name etched on a wall in fire and blood. I say that not just because I saw something similar in my own vision, but because the Altar of Blood is prophesied to be an abandoned place with, and I quote this from this tome, ‘a place of bloodied walls and fire pits of prophecy’.”

Kanaya moved to glance over her friend’s shoulder, and yes, where Rose’s index finger was pointing was indeed the sentence she had just quoted.

“…So you feel the Third Way is there? At this altar?”

“Indeed. It has been abandoned for years, but it should be it. I have found writings on where some Knights of Blood recorded seeing the Messiah and hearing him speak, but they never said of what. Only that they were forbidden to tell of it.”

“…” The jade-blood stood, robes sashaying across the study’s floor as she came to stand in front of the map again, and she bit her lips,

“It is across the entire world! I…Do you really expect me to send Karkat, who is in all respects a brother to me, across the entire planet to this desolate location? Past these cities? Past the Mindfang Ocean? Past the Land of Clockwork and Heat? Past…all of this?” She gestured with a hand, and then turned back to Rose, only to find that the human girl was smiling.

“Yes, I do expect you to send him there. But I don’t expect you to send him alone.”

---

Whoever it was, they were still banging at the door, and it was getting louder and louder…but they were not speaking, not crying out in pain, not doing anything else…

Karkat slowly stood, a hand twitching for a weapon, but he had never been given any at his time at the church; instead, his hand grasped his cape, while his knees shook with trepidation.

Stop that, you idiot…You got to be fucking brave…It’s probably no big deal…

But he remembered, then, that Kanaya had ordered him not to open the door whatsoever…

But…But something was off…

And what if this was someone in danger? Someone who had been hit by the meteors or burned by the fires, and was seeking solace at the only place they could? And they had no other way to communicate to the outside world?

For Karkat had seen looters and evil doers out amongst the chaos in his visions, and he could not help but wonder if someone had cut this poor soul’s throat, and they were bleeding out on the steps, and, and…

He shook his head, and then had another worrying thought: What if this person-

BANG.

What if this person at the door was Kanaya…?

What if she had been injured on her way to…wherever it was she had gone?

What if she was the one on the steps, and she was dying and in pain…?

“…Oh fucking grubmuncher…N-No, I’m sure she’s fine-“

BANG.

He normally only talked to himself when he was truly scared…

And as he inched closer to the door, inch by inch, it was clearly obvious that Karkat Vantas was not scared…

He was terrified…

---

“Do not misunderstand me! I do not expect you to go yourself.” Rose gleefully chirped, when she saw the shocked look on Kanaya’s face, “Though I am sure you do.”

“Of course, but-“

“But you alone cannot protect him. Neither of us could. But I know someone who will, if we ask him to.”

“And who is that?”

The blonde girl did not reply right away, and instead took out a small, circular device—a new age cell-phone in Alternia, created just in the past few years; Kanaya herself had one, though hers was green compared to Rose’s yellow, and she only used it to stay in contact with Karkat, for the Sisters were too old-fashioned for such ‘nonsense’.

“My cousin.”

“…Your…cousin?”

“Yes. His name is David. Though do not call him that.”

“…Then what do I call him?”

“Dave. Or Strider.” Rose sighed as she pressed buttons on the calling device, “He can…be egotistical.”

“Really…”

“And he can be a bit…complicated.”

“Complicated? And you wish for him to escort Karkat? This…complicated and egotistical man?” And yes, Kanaya was voicing this question in a disbelieving tone.

Rose smiled, “Yes. But he is also a Knight of Time.”

That caught Kanaya’s attention, her eyes widening, and then narrowing, “I could just swear, Rose, that you said men of Time were in short supply.”

"You are correct, I did say that. But I did not say they were extinct. When my cousin was born, we were alerted to him being born under the sign of the Angel of Time, and were hoping that it meant he would be blessed with its gifts—and he was. “

“Truly?”

“Yes. I know many of the Knights have died out, and we have not had many new ones born in years, but Dave is one. He has already begun showing promise, and I believe he would keep Karkat safe…if we paid him.”

“Of course I am willing to pay him! But is he reliable?”

“Ask him yourself.” With one last button press, Rose’s phone flickered to life, and a holographic screen appeared, with a young boy’s head appearing in the center.

“Sup, Rose?”

“Dave. Glad to see you’re doing well.”

Atop his head was the lightest shade of hair Kanaya had ever seen—a blonde-white that was almost white as snow, and dark shades covered his eyes. His voice was truly Southern—a twang and a drawl came out each time he spoke,

“What’d you need me for? I’m kinda busy here.”

“You remember how I spoke to you about that ‘trial’?”

A pause, the boy’s blank face not giving away anything, “Is it the one about the-“

“If you say ‘apple juice’, Dave, I will hang up.”

A snort came from the boy, and he gave a hint of a smirk, “Cute. And I wasn’t going to say that.”

“Mmhm. Regardless, it is the one I told you about in regards to escorting a young man.”

At that, Dave gave a low whistle, “Not gonna lie, Rose, when you told me that shit, I thought it was about something really, really dirty.”

“Now who is being cute? I do not mean an actual sexual escort—“ At that, Rose saw a fire light up in Kanaya’s eyes, and hurriedly spoke her next words, “It is about escorting him across Alternia. To the altar I spoke of.”

“Yeah, that whole ‘save-the-world-Dave-because-you-need-to-be-a-shinging-knight-in-armor-bullshit’? Sure, why not, got nothing better to do. That, and I think my house is on fire.”

“DAVE!” Rose shouted, eyes closing after a minute in frustration.

“Excuse you, I ain’t the one who ordered the meteor meatball sandwich with a side of grisly screams and fire-Mignon. It just sort of showed up—kind of like morning wood and those weird little bugs that-”

A sigh, “When can you get to the Temple?”

“In a sec.”

“I need more specifics than-“

At that moment, Dave’s feed cut out, and Rose put down her phone with a slow breath outward—but she did not have long to wait, because two minutes later—exactly—a crackling red light appeared in the study, fizzing and buzzing—and soon it reached a high, wailing pitch that caused Kanaya to cringe and cover her ears, though Rose was used to the noise.

Red light appeared, and a hole—not against the wall, not against anything—opened up, and out stepped a young man adorned in red pants and shirt, with a cape billowing out behind him, and a hood over his head, while the sign of Time stood out proudly on his chest. A short-sword was hitched to a red belt over his waist, glittering silver and gold.

And with a quick jump, he landed on his feet, and crossed his arms…

“Sup Rose. Troll Chick.”

…And fell to the ground, clearly out of exhaustion.

Kanaya let out a sharp gasp, but Rose just nearly sighed and turned to her companion, stating,

“Did I forget to mention he has not truly matured into his powers yet?”

---

He stood there, standing at the doorknob, and Karkat realized the banging had gotten louder and louder, and it was draining out all logical reasons to not open the door…

At this point, he wished to merely stop the racket, and help whoever was the poor soul behind the door…And all the while, he kept thinking—nearly ‘knowing’—that it was Kanaya over there, in danger, in turmoil, and his darkest thoughts grew and grew and he just could not lose his last family member!

Slowly, Karkat gripped the knob, and took a breath…slowly cracking it open…

…Until it burst open against him, as if a giant windstorm had kicked up, and the Vantas child’s hand was ripped from the knob, his body flung backwards against the floor a few feet away.

And a craggy voice sung out,

“Why aren’t you just the little cutest motherfucker I have ever motherfucking seen?”

---

“His powers have not matured?!”

“…Yes-“

“Now, now, calm down, Miss…uh…”

“Kanaya, Dave. This is Kanaya.” Rose sighed as her cousin got to his feet after a moment.

“Right, Kanaya. Now, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but trust me, I’m clearly capable of handling anything that’s going on.”

“Just how old are you?” The Maryam questioned, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“…Thirteen.”

"Thirteen!?”

“Kanaya, please, remain calm-“

“Rose, he is younger than Karkat! You want me to put his life in this…this…young…knight-in-training’s hands?!”

Dave let out a snort, “So I’m still learning. Big whoop, I know how to do shit. Did I not just jump two minutes into the future to get here?”

“…It is true that Dave is still learning how to swim through the Time Stream, Kanaya, but he is taking well to it. He also can fight well—he is currently being trained in swordplay.”

“But that is just it! He is being trained! He has not completed anything yet, is what I am getting at!”

“I just said I was thirteen, lady. I’m still learning. But here’s what I’m gathering from what my cousin told me,” Dave strode closer to Kanaya, and although she was a bit taller than him, his air came off as cool, collected, and did not show any fear whatsoever—but the shades clearly helped there.

“From what I gather, you ain’t got much of a choice but to go with me. Do you honestly have someone else who will take your baby brother to wherever the hell we’re going?” A pause, “No? Didn’t think so. So you get one shot with me, and that’s it. So I suggest you get used to how I am, and just pay me to do this.”

“…How much do you want?” Kanaya looked away, knowing that the young boy was correct, “Our church is not a mega, multi-million-dollar Corporation.”

“How does one million boonbucks sound?”

“…” It sounded like too much, in all honesty—what happened to chivalry? What happened to a man doing a good deed because he wished to? The world was at stake, for Signless’ sake!

“Look, I need the money, and right now, this is looking like it’s going to be a big job. Saving the world, and shit. Plus, looking at that map, it looks like I’m going to be going across at least seventy-five percent of Alternia to get there. One million or no deal.”

“Dave-“

“Look, Rose, I get it, the world’s ending, yay, cheers, let’s have a beer and an orgy and live while we can. Or, I would, but I have to be doing this. “

“Do you honestly not care?” Kanaya asked in a soft voice.

“I never said I didn’t care.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying I need the money.”

“And if the world ends?”

“Then I don’t get any money. But if, lo and behold, I am able to save this world, I get to live my life out pretty damn well, don’t you think? And we’re not extinct, and hell, maybe even Baby Bro gets to live. So I don’t think the question you should be asking is ‘why is he asking for so much money’, it should be, ‘why isn’t he asking for more’?”

“…” Kanaya looked away, realizing that the boy was making a good argument—even if it was a selfish one.

“Look, I don’t want the world to end as much as you do, but I need to know—we gotta deal or what?”

---

Karkat let out a shout of fear, but it didn’t sound as if it was coming from his own orifice and vocal chute.

Standing before him…well.

It looked like a troll.

But the purple, bat-like wings that were coming out of its back made it not a troll.

“Hi, motherfucker. ”

It was grinning, with purple eyes, sharp teeth, crazy hair and crazy, candy-corn-like horns, and two juggling clubs in its hands.

It was a demon.

Karkat’s breath was coming in short, shallow gasps, and his prone body on floor was shaking.

“C’mere, Motherfucker, we gotta have a nice, long talk…” It threw one of the clubs up in the air, and caught it with a deft hand, “A nice, long talk…S’gonna be fun! Hell, I bet it will be miraculous, don’t you think so?”

At that, Karkat could not help himself, and let out a louder scream, scooting farther back away from the creature in front of him; the stupidly dressed creature, who was wearing polka-dotted pants, and a black and purple striped shirt.

“Aw, little man, where you going? We’re about to have a lot of fun! HONK!”

At that, the creature lunged, its purple eyes glowing with fire, his fangs showing, and Karkat let out a terrified shout, because it hit him right then and there:

His life was in danger…

And he had to run.

---

“…Deal.”

“Great! See, easy, no skin off anybody’s nose. And I don’t need to be paid up front, either. See, I’m a nice guy.” Dave gave a shrug, leaning back against the table, hands in his pant pockets.

Rose let out a sigh, “Fine. Dave, we’ll take you to meet Karkat, and you two will leave immediately. Kanaya, you and I will follow them soon after, is that okay?”

“…Yes.” The troll stiffly nodded, realizing she had no other choice but to agree, even if this…Dave Strider gave her a nauseating feeling in her food-holder.

But before she had time to think anything else, a beeping sound emitted from the pockets of her robes—it was her own phone going off.

“Who…?”

Kanaya took it out, and pressed the “ANSWER” button, and the screen lit up—it was Karkat.

“Karkat!”

“KANAYA!” It was a scream, and the boy’s face had a small cut across his cheek, while a crash rang out in the background, “THEY’RE HERE, HELP ME, OH SHIT, OH FUCKING SHIT.”

“W-What is going on!? Karkat!?”

“A DEMON! HE GOT IN-“

“Oh where are you, little Motherfucker…?” A sing-song voice echoed out in the background, and the holographic face of the Vantas body immediately paled with dread, as another crash was heard.

“KANAYA, HELP ME! HE’S GOING TO FUCKING KILL ME. SHIT, SHIT, I THINK HE FOUND-“

The feed cut and fizzled out with another scream, and Kanaya looked as if she was about to faint, as she whispered, “Oh Gods above, no…no, they found him…”

“Kanaya?” Rose ran to the other, touching her shoulder, “What-“

“A demon has him cornered, in the Church. I cannot get to him in time.” Tears billowed up in her eyes, and a little gasp echoed out; already, not even an hour into The End, and it looked like it was already ending.

But both women turned when they heard a sword unsheathe from a hilt, and Dave turned his back on the women.

“Where is he?”

“…The Church. B-But you’ll never make it in time!”

A little smirk came on the Strider boy’s face, “Exactly. So I’ve got to go in time, Kanaya. Where is it? The one in the Capital?”

“…Yes. But hurry-“

“Don’t worry. I’ve got this.”

With a slash, Dave’s sword cut the air, and red lightning exploded and crackled around them both, while the boy let out a shout of, “Time’s my thing. Remember that. If he calls back, tell him to hold out for three minutes!”

And the boy jumped into the red hole, the hole akin to a cog-wheel of a clock, and disappeared just as Kanaya let out a cry into Rose’s shoulder.

A cry of hope—but also dread.

----

Karkat was cornered…

Around him, the benches patrons would sit on were in shreds, having been destroyed by the demon’s clubs—clubs that held unearthly power. Wood and glass were everywhere, and as Karkat sat behind the altar, a leg having shards of glass in his knee, and splinters in his face, he knew he could not move any more.

He had repeatedly thrown glass and wood at the demon, but it had been to no avail. It had no effect on him, and when a shard had embedded itself in the creature’s forehead, he had merely laughed. Said shard was still there, too.

“Man, why you gotta run away from me? Name’s Gamzee and we’re going to have a swell time.”

“G-GET AWAY FROM ME!”

“Can’t do that, little bro. Boss said I gotta bring you to him.”

“JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!”

“Now, now, this shit is gonna be miraculous. You’re gonna love it, I promise. And it ain’t going to hurt for long.”

Karkat knew this was it—by all definitions, hypotheses, and guesses, he would and should die here, with a club to the head. The demon, Gamzee, even raised his right hand as if to strike a blow.

…But the blow never met its mark.

Light—blood-colored light—exploded between the two beings, and sparks of electricity struck out, and the demon was sent backwards at the force of the hole appearing between him and Karkat.

And out stepped a boy, sword in hand…

A boy who made eye contact with the troll on the ground, and both had their eyes widen at the sight of each other…

And when the whole disappeared, leaving the human standing in front of Karkat, the latter could only state in a pained and confused voice,

“Who the fuck are you!?”

Chapter Text

Two

Blessed Be the Fearful

Karkat expected a polite, normal reply.

He expected something along the lines of, “My name is So-and-So, and I’m here to help you!” Or: “I’m Fill-in-the-blank-here, let’s get the fuck out of here while I save you!”

Heck, Karkat would have settled for a one-worded answer of the guy’s name, and then a heroic rescue.

What he got instead was a cocky smirk and:

“Who the fuck are you?”

All the Vantas could do at this unusual reply, besides stuttering like a complete fool (which he was already doing, great job, Karkat) and standing there agape while there was a giant shard of glass embedded in his knee, and splinters in his hair, was stutter out a shriek of,

“I-I asked you first!?”

And the stranger, without missing a beat, replied with, “And I asked you second.”

Funny enough, it seemed that the demon in the room was just as confused as Karkat, which was probably a very good thing, since neither he nor the human stranger were dead just yet.

“T-THIS IS STUPID!”

“Yeah, gotta agree, Kitten. But you started it.”

“I started it!? I just asked who you fucking were, you asshole! I just wanted you to give me a name, not some backwater back-sass!”

The stranger raised a pale eyebrow at him, smile growing wider, “You have a temper on you, don’t you—SHIT!”

The boy never got to finish his sentence, as the demon, finally realizing there was someone else there—and someone who was a threat to this ‘mission’ of sorts—charged towards the two of them, a goofy grin on his face, clubs coming forward, about to crash down; but the human boy—the boy with blond-white hair and hidden eyes—took the initiative (or just finally used his reflexes) to bring up his own weapon to parry the blow. His own weapon was a wide, silver sword, with a golden hilt decorated by a black, white, and red circle that Karkat had never seen before in all his sweeps of life; it gleamed in the broken light of the church, and the Vantas could have sworn that he saw red sparks jump out from the blade at the clash of weapons.

“Can you walk?” It was taking all the boy’s strength to hold off the creature before him, Gamzee cackling underneath his breath, and not even sweating from exertion at all; the stranger turned his head to gaze at Karkat while asking the question, the latter just giving him an exasperated look in return.

“Does it look like I can?!” Karkat returned in a shout, gesturing towards his wounded knee with a large slab of glass stuck inside the skin, while his hands had shrapnel of wood in them, along with other parts of his body.

“Shit.” The other just rolled his eyes, muttering something about having gotten paid up front, but then just shook his head. “Fine. Then close your eyes!”

“What?!”

“Close your damn eyes!”

Whoever this boy was, he gritted his teeth, slowly moving one hand away from his sword hilt to reach into his pocket and pulled out a disc that matched the one on his sword, except it had—strange enough—red gears lining the edges of it; gears that were a twin to the symbol on the boy's red chest. Releasing it from his hand, the disc floated, unbound by gravity, and with a swish of the teenager’s hand, the disc flew at the demon in front of it, crashing into the creature and sending him flying into the wall, it exploding with the impact, and blinding red light swam out into the room, and Karkat found himself closing his eyes just in time.

Gamzee, having not seen the bomb coming towards him at all due to his simplistic mind, let out a screech of pain and confusion, purple wings twitching in agitation for a few seconds at the impact…until a red orb sprung from the remains of the disc, encircling his body.

“Alright, let’s move princess. We’ve got about sixty seconds before your friend wakes up.”

“What the fuck was that!?” The candy-red blood shrieked, “And what the fuck are you doing!? Get your hands off me!”

“It was a Time Bomb, oh great and wise Shouty McNumbs. And I’m helping you stand, so shut up so I can help you.” The boy was wrapping an arm around Karkat’s waist, trying his best with one arm to lift him to his feet; in all honesty, it was not too much of a struggle—he was not only taller than Karkat, but more muscular, the other being almost too thin for his age.

“Screw you, I don’t need your-“

“If you finish that sentence with the clichéd line I’m thinking of, I’m dropping your fine ass right here on the floor and leaving you to deal with the angry purple bat.”

Karkat knew the other had a point—he had been about to die on the first day of all this mess, and the death in itself would have been a mess; whoever this guy was, probably someone Kanaya had gotten, knowing her, he knew how to fight despite looking like he’d just stepped inside the puberty cocoon and was waiting for maturation.

“Fine. Shit.” Karkat winced as he threw an arm around the other’s shoulders, leaning into him as the boy quickly scurried across the church floor, blood trailing behind the Vantas’ body from his leg wound.

“Do you have any holy water? Didn’t have enough time to grab some before I got here.”

The troll nodded, “B-Basement.” A bony finger pointed to a door on the south side of the church, “You think that’ll work?”

“Fuck no, but I can’t think of anything else to use at the moment. Damn thing’s got an extra weapon on me, and he’s fast. I need to stun him somehow, Kitten.”

Another snarl came from the troll as the pair hurried towards the basement door, “I have an actual name, fuckwipe. It’s Karkat.”

“Knew that already, sweetheart.” Another smirk graced the boy’s features as the words flowed out in a Southern drawl, and Karkat would have bet all the boondollars in the world on the fact that the guy probably winked at him behind those ridiculous shades on his face.

“…Well, you just got five times creepier, asshole. Now tell me your name.”

“How about this?” The boy panted out as they descended the stairs as quickly as possible, Karkat’s damaged leg scraping against the wood, the troll himself whimpering out in pain, “If we survive this, I’ll let you know who your savior is, got it? Now sit tight.”

“E-Excuse you, but I can fucking fight!”

“Uh-huh. Sure. In this state, you can totally fight. I’m amazed at your sheer ferocity. The bloodshed you have already caused and wrought amongst the army we face stuns my soul and gives me heart palpitations. I am ready to get on bended-“

“Do you ever shut up!?” Karkat shouted back, as he slowly let go of the other and sat on a crate, watching as the other, still talking, rummaged in some of the dusty barrels in the dimly lit basement, the one window with peeking rays of sunlight showing how the room had not been cleaned in weeks.

“I am ready to get on bended knee and praise your holy warrior powers. You are a godsend to all of the Knights of the World and—ow.”

Karkat figured the best way to shut the jerk up was to throw a spare Book of Scripture at the kid, and then politely hand him one of the Holy Waters he had been seeking (idiot, they had been right above Karkat’s head the entire time).

“Don’t damage the merchandise, Karkles.”

“I’ll fucking damage the merchandise if this is the shit you’re selling.”

That caused the other to smirk while he opened the bottle and poured the liquid onto his sword; steam immediately lifted up from the weapon, and it caused the human to smile wider as he reached for another bottle—and did so just in time.

Gamzee had recovered, and a terror-filled honking sound echoed out in the church; slowly, the creature descended the stairs, and once he reached the end of them, he stood completely in shadow. The only features visible were his bright eyes, yellow and purple standing out, and three purple gashes streaking across his face from left to right.

“Man, why you gotta try and take my new best friend away, motherfucker? That makes me really…angry.”

The creature’s eyes flashed red out of pure rage, and it caused Karkat to gasp; shit, shit, this was it, it was about to end here, what could this kid do-

"Yeah, well, I just became so smitten with Karkles over here that I just had to take him away from you. Sorry man, it ain’t personal. It’s just that you’re a murderous creature from Hell, and I’m just a poor, lonely kid from the city of Tixa on Alternia…Wait, that probably does make it personal-“

“LOOK OUT!”

Gamzee apparently had had enough of the boy’s rambling, and had unfurled his wings, jumping into the air and flying at the human with clubs ablaze with purple fire…

But the human teen just smiled and muttered, “Dumbass.”

While flinging the unopened bottle of holy water at the creature’s face.

The bottle shattered at the impact, and Gamzee let out a howl of brutal pain, collapsing to the floor in a heap, his striped-shirt immediately turning wet, and then dissolving into thin threads, to the point where gray skin and abdominal muscles were visible; the water had not just seeped into his skin’s pores and paralyzed him that way, but into the open cuts on his face; the water was now soaking into his bloodstream, ‘purifying’ the creature in the most agonizing way.

“Well, that went better than I thought it would.” The human took a moment to brush off some debris from his pants as he strode over to the collapsed demon, who had fallen onto his back as he thrashed about, shouting “MOTHERFUCKER!” every few seconds in despair. “The rest will be easy.”

Calmly, the boy lifted his sword with one hand, even taking the time to casually flip it “cool-guy style”. Meanwhile, Gamzee, still in pain, with skin bubbling up, whines coming from his gravelly throat, turned over onto his back, eyes darting about in fear and confusion.

“Motherfucker….Agh…” A whine, and a chuckle from the boy was the echo,

“Yeah, guess I am.”

And the boy swung the sword—but missed his target.

Not of any fault of his own—for Gamzee had moved. More than likely, he had moved out of pain, and not to protect himself, because the teen’s weapon did hit a mark: the demon’s wing.

“AGH!” Another scream came from the creature, the blade slicing through his wing instead of his back, purple blood spurting out and oozing, and the demon found himself crawling, on bended knee and bloody palms, towards the basement steps. His dirty claws eventually reached the last step, digging into the wood as he turned and faced the sword-wielding male; his face went from worry and fear, to pure, unadulterated rage, while panting out huffs of air.

“That was a good swing, motherfucker. But I ain’t just going to sit here and let you kill me, you hear?”

A scoff, “And what are you going to do, then?”

“This. See you later, fucker. I’ll be back for my new, bitchin’ best friend—“ Here, Gamzee paused to grin at Karkat, and even give him a wink, “later on, when you learn to chill out.”

With a damaged arm, the demon reached into his polka-dotted pants pocket and pulled out a small, fizzing bottle of purple liquid; with a small twist of the cap, purple smoke escaped from the container, enveloping Gamzee. It billowed, surrounding him, and before Karkat’s eyes, the demon’s skin and being turned black (save for his upcoming scars on his face), and the creature evaporated into the air with a lone “HONK!”, and his empty bottle dropped to the floor, his hand no longer being in existence.

It was clear that Gamzee was gone, having fled the scene, and the human teenager was not happy about it—or at least, Karkat assumed as much from the other’s stiff posture, for the boy’s back was still to the troll’s front for the time being.

But even when the other turned, his facial expression was blank and mild; if he showed any annoyance at the demon’s absconding, it did not come across. But another expression did—a smirk appeared after a moment, and the boy strode over to Karkat, gently lifting him up from a sitting position with his free hand, the other appendage replacing his steel in its hilt.

“So…Now that the illustrious, ironic Knight of Time, named Dave Strider—see, I told you my name, I can hold up an end of a bargain—has saved the voluptuous princess’ derriere, does he get a kiss?”

The resulting punch Dave Strider received as an answer not three seconds later was answer enough.

---

“I think the brat broke my nose, Rose. Heh. Rhymed.”

Rose merely sighed, and glanced at her cousin, who was sitting on the steps up to the altar, and just shook her head.

“What?”

“Your nostrils are fine, Dave. It was just a bit bloody. Kanaya fixed it up perfectly for you.”

“Then why do I still have to hold this tissue to it and sound like I swallowed a bunch of sand and-or inhaled a lot of helium?”

“Because.” The Lalonde girl gave the other a smile, the boy frowning and about to retort again when a third voice spoke up,

“Shut your fucking vocal chute, asshole! I’m the one getting—OW! FUCK!—glass taken out of his leg!” Karkat screamed from his prone position on half a remnant of a pew, legs spread out, pants rolled up so Kanaya could gingerly remove the glass and wood embedded in his skin with tweezers.

“Hush, Karkat. Dave just saved your life.”

“Yeah, well, HE ALMOST DIDN’T MAKE IT IN TIME! AND HE NEARLY GOT US KILLED ANYWAY!”

“Do you always complain this much?” Dave quipped, taking the tissue away from his face, and throwing it in a waste-basket a few feet away, the container having been brought from a bedroom for Karkat’s benefit.

“Only when I’m surrounded by fuckwads like yourself. OW!”

“I’ve almost got it out, Karkat—it is quite a large piece.” The Maryam sighed, gently tugging on the piece, it inching out of the Vantas’ knee inch by inch.

The Strider boy stood, stretching his muscles and quickly slid over to Karkat, smiling mischievously, “Should I hold your hand, babe? You’re screaming enough to where any old folk would mistake you for a pregnant lusus.”

Karkat’s head slowly, extremely slowly, turned to the human, a blank stare on his face and a deadpan tone in his voice as he spoke,

“I’ll kill you in your sleep.”

“Not if I do it first. Or if I do something else while you sleep.”

“I know where all the kitchen knives are stored at this very moment.”

“I know where my swords are stored at this very moment.”

A pause, “…You only have one—OH FUCK YOU. YOU WILL KEEP ANY AND ALL HUMAN APPENDAGES THAT ARE CONCEALED IN PANTS AWAY FROM MY FUCKING PERSON.”

“Enough!” Kanaya let out a shout, yanking out the glass from Karkat’s knee, and the boy let out a painful howl, falling onto his back on the bench, letting out a few soft screams afterwards. Dave, trying to hold in a smile of vengefulness, failed to do so and he let out a snicker.

“Screw you, Strider. How about I stick some glass in that neck of yours, and we’ll see how you feel then.”

“Or I could just take you back in time, and have you repeat that horrible moment of sheer agony over and over?”

“I dare you to say that to my face.”

“I am saying it to your face, dumbass.” Dave leaned in, shades close enough to Karkat that he could see himself in them.

The troll let out a snarl, hands and claws twitching in rage, “Get your pompous face out of mine. Now.”

“Why? Am I doin’ you some harm by having my face in yours?”

Whatever it was about that question—be it Dave’s haughty attitude, or the fact that he was invading Karkat’s personal space—it caused the troll boy to snap, and he lunged, bloody knee and all, at the Knight, and both tumbled to the floor. Dave let out an “OOF!” of surprise, and then frowned angrily, spitting out with fire,

“Okay, KitKat, let’s see what you got. I didn’t want to start this shit, your choice, remember that when I’m-“

“DO YOU EVER SHUT UP!?” Karkat screeched, trying to claw at Dave’s face, while the human boy pulled at his hair; the scuffle lasted only a few seconds, because Kanaya easily intervened, shouting,

“Stop this! Enough!” Slippers ran across the destroyed tile floor, and the jade-blood began to heave Karkat off the other, while Rose attended to her cousin, separating him from the Vantas. After a moment, both boys struggling in their respective women’s arms, they stopped and breathed.

“We do not have time for this! Last time I looked out the window, the world was ending!” Kanaya huffed, and then sighed, “Karkat, this boy is the one who I have found to assist you. He will be escorting you to a place that I feel can solve our problem.”

“…Wait, WHAT? HE is escorting me?” Karkat pointed with an accusatory finger, “I fucking KNEW you got this prick to help me! Oh, gods DAMN it!"

“Karkat…He is the best we could find. He is a Knight of Time…in training.”

A pause from the boy, while the Knight in question stood stone-cold, arms crossed and not giving away anything.

“He’s the best? Hell, Kanaya, if he’s what you consider the best, I don’t want to see what you think is the worst.”

Kanaya closed her eyes in frustration, breathing through her nose, while Rose rubbed the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming on.

“Maybe I ain’t technically the ‘best’,” Dave piped up, “But I’m the best you’re going to get, Karkles. So you’re going to have to suck it up. I sure as hell would rather be swimming in a pool with puppets and babes than travel with you at this point-“

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“It probably started when you threw a Bible at my head and then punched me straight in the face.”

“YOU WERE HITTING ON ME! YOU WERE…YOU WERE TRYING TO WIN ME OVER WITH FANCY HUMANOID FLIRTATION TACTICS!”

“Or maybe I was just being my lovely self and didn’t deserve a punch. You ever think of that, Shouty?”

Karkat merely snarled, and Kanaya, not wishing to see more fighting, came to her charge and placed a hand on his back,

“Karkat, Rose and I would not have agreed upon this if we did not think it would be the best—for both of you.”

“Yeah, I am getting a million boonbucks outta this deal. Thanks for that, Maryam.” Dave gave the girl a smile, even waving his pair of pointer fingers at her like a typical “cool boy”; Karkat, meanwhile, had his eyes widen until they resembled those of a cartoon.

“You’re giving him a million boonbucks to get me…to wherever the hell this place is?!”

“It…It was part of the deal.”

“Don’t worry, KitKat!” Dave grinned, sliding back over to the troll boy on bended knee, dramatically placing a hand on his chest, “You are worth so, so much more than a million boonbucks to me.”

“Screw you.” The Vantas snorted, pushing at Dave’s face, who only muttered, “Watch the merchandise!” and backed up from the other.

“Boys, please…This is serious.” Rose spoke, and came to stand next to Karkat, unfurling the map she had in her sylladex, showing the boy the path he would take. “You are to head to the Altar of Blood, and it is here. We believe that it is the key to the Third Way the Messiah hinted of—it more than likely will help you to stop The End.”

“…It’s on the other side of the world.” Karkat found his jaw dropping as he gazed over the path Rose had highlighted in bright red ink across the map—it wound through woods, lava, ocean, tall grasses and only a handful of cities.

“You are to avoid the main roads. If the demons already knew where you were the moment this started, they will be out in full-force, and will try to look for you in the metropolises of the world. Stick to only the small towns I have highlighted.”

Dave came to stand behind Karkat, looking over his shoulder with ease—the asshole was taller than Karkat! How was that fair?—and he pointed to a particular city in question.

“Why do you want us to go to Neon? Last time I checked that was just a gambling town.”

Rose frowned with a twitch of her lips, “Neon is where Roxy is, Dave.”

“…Oh.”

“Who the fuck is Roxy?”

Dave gave the troll boy a sharp slap on the top of his head, “Roxy is my other cousin—Rose’s sister.”

“Specifically, she is a Rogue of Void. A woman blessed by the Angel of Void. Where I am a Seer of Light, blessed by the Light Denziens from Old Age, she is a woman of Darkness; I am all-seeing and she is nothingness. Her powers may be of use for your journey, so I recommend you visit her.”

Dave snorted, “Her powers are only gonna be helpful if she ain’t drunk, Rose, and you know it.”

A sigh, “I know. Regardless, go see her. She is still my sister, after all, and her safety is on my mind. I also recommend you go find your brother.”

Silence echoed out at that statement, Dave sticking his hands in his pants and shrugging, “Why?”

“…Your brother is still in the city of Xen, isn’t he?”

“Well…Maybe?”

“Dave.” Rose gave him a hard look, “Your brother is still in Xen, yes?”

“…Yeah.”

“…What the fuck are you two talking about?” Karkat spoke up, eyes having darted back and forth between the pair of cousins.

“Dave has a brother who has been…preoccupied in a certain city for a little while. His brother is an expert swordsman and would be a wonderful ally to you two. This road you are traveling on is going to be dangerous, and you will need assistance. Kanaya and I will eventually join you, but we must take our time and gather information, intelligence, and resources.”

“I don’t know if I should really bother Dirk, Rose…”

“Dave.”

“…Fine.” The Strider boy looked away, “But if he says no, I’m tellin’ him you asked, not me.”

Rose smiled, “He will not say no. Have more faith in your sibling, Dave.”

“Whatever. What else?”

Rose rolled up the map, handing it to him. “Nothing else. The map will guide you, but you will have to use your wits, mostly. We will give you some supplies, though.”

At this point, Kanaya smiled, and took out her own sylladex container, pressing a few buttons to release the items she had stored—three camping tents, clothes for both Dave and Karkat, a few rations of food and bottled water, sticks of wood, four sleeping bags, some money to use, and a few extra pairs of shoes.

“That’s it?”

Kanaya glanced at Dave, “Were you expecting a motorized vehicle?”

“Uh, it would’ve been nice.”

“You cannot travel via car, train, or flying machine—would you like to be attacked by demons while fifty-thousand feet in the air?”

“…Point taken.”

“Good. Now, Karkat, sit, so I can bandage your knee, and give you something.”

Karkat sighed, flopping down onto the pew so the Maryam could kneel and wrap linens around his largest cut; the others had already been wrapped and tended to, and would heal in a few days—this cut, though, would take at least a week, if not two. He could walk on it at this point, since the glass had been removed, but the little sparks of pain still danced up his nervous system. In time, he would get used to it--he had to.

“Now, although I have not given you…any weapons before…this is one of those times where you need them.”

"I thought you told me you could fight, Kitten! Don't tell me you've never used any weapon before?" Dave shouted out when he heard that statement, but Karkat took the high road and just ignored him.

Kanaya once again brought out her sylladex, and released from it two sickles—black as night, shining in the sunlight filtering through the broken windows of the church; gently, the Vantas took them into his hands, caressing the metallic weaponry.

“They…They look old.”

“They existed in the time of the Messiah. Some say they were even his at one point. I know you will use them well.” Kanaya gave the boy a soft smile, patting his good knee with motherly fashion. Silence echoed out for a heartbeat, and Karkat slowly put the weapons away on his person—on his own catalogue of goods, a black-as-night sylladex he owned—and fell with quick speed into Kanaya’s arms, hugging her tightly, much to the surprise of everyone else in the room.

“O-Oh!”

“You’re going to come with us eventually, right?” Karkat whispered from her shoulder, clinging just a tad to the only troll companion he had had for the majority of his life.

“Eventually, yes. Rose and I are going back to her Temple very shortly. She must meditate and do her best to predict the best pathway we must all take. But we will be following you.”

“I also can find you through my Seer powers, Karkat,” Rose spoke, coming to stand by Kanaya and the other, and gently rub the boy’s shoulder, “We shall teleport to your location if we ever sense the need to. Understood?”

The red-blooded boy nodded, still not wanting to let go of Kanaya, and soon Rose found herself joining in the “group hug” of sorts…which was then made awkward by Dave standing to the side, watching them all as they turned to stare at him.

“What? I don’t do group hugs, I thought that was obvious.”

And all Karkat could do at the other’s bluntness and isolation was growl, and then hide his face in Kanaya’s shoulder once again…

…It was going to be a long, long journey ahead of him.

And he had to leave—today. There was no putting it off.

There was no putting off having to deal with him…

And there was no putting off The End any longer…

---

They had to be quick with goodbyes and the pleading that followed; Kanaya could only hug Karkat for so long, and Karkat could only complain about the human boy by his side for so long as well. They both knew, there in that moment, that it was either now or never. Dive off the precipice now, or stall and wait for annihilation later.

“Hush, my lovely boy,” Kanaya had whispered softly once a few tears had sprung up; tears of frustration, tears of anger, tears of fear and hopelessness, “I will be with you soon, I promise.”

“Yeah, right…Can…Can I hold you to that?”

“Of course. A Maryam woman always keeps her promises. Even death could not stop that!”

And so the Vantas had dried his eyes and had put on a stern face while his innards were raging with self-hatred and self-depreciation; he knew, he knew every moment that he breathed in air, every second he blinked his visual orbs, that what was to come was because of him—because he existed. But he also realized that an inner part of Karkat needed to accept this fact, and move on…

He never said that this inner part would, however.

Regardless, once the emotional waves had crested and ebbed, the jade-blood lead the others out into the woods behind the church; the chaos of the back garden still existed, the meteor’s remains and the giant hole still standing strong, and Karkat found himself shielding his eyes from the remains of his Mother Grub, who had yet to be removed from underneath the rubble.

“I will take care of her,” Kanaya spoke up, touching the younger troll’s shoulder, “Rose and I will give her a proper burial. But this is where you must start out.”

“…Here in the garden?”

The Maryam woman smiled, replying with, “Yes. Go into the woods. You and I both know that you know that this stretches out to the wall around the Capital. Once you get to that wall, dig your way underneath—and do not give me that look! I know you can!—and keep going into the woods that is outside the wall. And then start to follow the map. Understood?”

“Wait, I’m going to have to dig and get in the dirt?”

That had been Dave, and all three other members of the party slowly turned towards him—a subtle cue for him to shut up, which he did, with just a shrug of his shoulders.

“Go on.” Kanaya gave Karkat another pat on his shoulder, nodding her head towards the woods, “You’ll be fine.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Don’t give me that look.”

“…” Karkat merely continued to give the other a deadpan look with raised eyebrows, but the look eventually melted into something more somber, “Bye.”

“I will see you soon.” Kanaya returned with a small smile, Rose coming to stand beside her; there was no need to say goodbye, because she knew—Rose knew—this was not a goodbye. It was not time to say goodbye—not yet.

Karkat let out a sigh, turning swiftly from the women, stalking forward with deft speed, “Let’s go, asswipe. Sooner we get started, sooner I’m rid of you.”

Dave snorted, rolling his eyes behind his shades, and turned to his cousin and shrugged, “See ya.”

“Don’t do anything stupid, Dave.”

“Psh. This is me we’re talking about Rose, do you really think—oh shit, little guy walks fast. Gotta run, Rose, my bad, little guy might get himself killed if I ain’t watching.” A snort, and with that, he hurriedly took off, quick enough to where he did not hear the giggles of his family member—or the chime of her teleportation abilities, gold dust settling to the ground as she and Kanaya took off to parts unknown—well, not truly. Though the destination was unknown to Karkat and the Strider, the two women had actually retreated into the church, to begin quick repairs, and to bury the Mother Grub as they had planned.

“Wait up, babe, not everyone here has itty bitty troll feet that can jump over logs like rabbits.”

Karkat just shook his head, and continued to walk, “If you can’t keep up, you can just go back home.”

“Pretty sure my house burned down.”

That caused the other to stop, shoed feet crunching against dead leaves, “You’re not sure? Are you that much of a dumbass?”

Dave hopped over a log and came to stand next to the other, “I left while it was on fire. Pretty sure the whole city’s burned down, so I’m gonna guess my apartment was included in that.”

“…Whatever. I’m totally mourning your loss.” With that, Karkat continued to meander through the dead, barren trees and leaves; this woods was not populous with greenery, but instead beige trunks and slim, pointy branched reaching up to the sky; grass was dead underneath his feet, leaves littered about, and some trees having even been split open by storms from days past. But he was used to this terrain, for Kanaya was correct—he had traversed these woods many times in his childhood, in secrecy of course.

Dave, on the other hand, was not an expert, and as the duo began walking further and further into the tough terrain, the thirteen year old continuously having his cape getting snagged on branches sticking out from all angles on the dead trees, or the logs underfoot.

“Ah, shit.” Dave growled out, it having happened now for a fifth time—this time on a log, and now it looked as if there would be a hole in the fabric, oh what joy—and he proceeded to tug at his fabric with firm hands, “How do you walk through this place? There’s so much shit to get in your way.”

Karkat blinked, and shrugged, “Unlike you, I didn’t spend five sweeps locked up in a box in a city.” A pause came from him, then, “When you’re stuck in one place for the majority of your life, you tend to make the most of it, and find places in that place where you can stretch your legs.”

“I wasn’t—ugh—stuck in a box for my whole life.”

“Exactly. You at least had a city.”

“I still don’t get it. How are you walking around without getting your shitty, raggedy cape stuck in—shit—these shitty branches and logs too?”

Again, the troll boy shrugged, and let out a tired sigh, taking the moment to glance down at his body; Kanaya had ordered him to change his clothes before they had set out, and now he was wearing a fresh set of black, billowy slacks, a loose, midnight-colored long-sleeve shirt, and a brown and red hooded cape, Kanaya having stated that it was extremely old—and possibly belonged to the Messiah when he was a youth, if the rumors were true.

“Like I just said, dumbass. I didn’t have many places to go, so I came out here all the time. So I learned how to walk around trees and logs and shit so I didn’t get stuck.” Karkat smirked then, continuing with as he started to walk away from the human, “Maybe that’s what you get for being a pompous city boy.”

“You know, you could be a gentleman and come back and give me a hand.” Dave deadpanned as the other continued to walk away.

“I’m not a gentleman to you, or most people.”

The Strider muttered something akin to “Screw you” and continued to pull at his article of clothing, finally yanking the cape free, and yes, there was a hole in it.

“You owe me a new cape, Vantas.” Dave let out as he hurried to catch up to the other, “And stay close to me. Wouldn’t want you dead this early, now would we?”

“I don’t know, if I’m going to be stuck with you for weeks at a time, I could go for dying right about now.”

“Aww, but Kitten, then I wouldn’t get my money.”

“And me depriving you of money that should go to people in need—like, oh, I don’t fucking know, MAYBE THE NOW-HOMELESS-CITIZENS BECAUSE METEORS RAINED DOWN ON THEIR FUCKING CIVILIAN HEADS, or, say, THE CHURCH YOU’RE BLACKMAILING IN MANY SENSES OF THE WORD TO GET SAID FUNDS from—would be such a travesty!”

“Careful, you scream any louder, and you’ll frighten away the wildlife.” Dave snickered, giving a subtle grin as he came to walk next to the other, whose face turned sour and disgusted, replying with,

“THERE IS NO WILDLIFE OUT HERE, DUMBASS!”

“I dunno, you’re starting to seem pretty wild there. I’m waiting for you to start squawking like a bird—“

At the quip, Karkat let out a snarl and turned on the human; sharp claws dug into red fabric and Dave found himself slammed up against the nearest tree with a bang, his eyes wincing behind his shades, even if his mouth gave away nothing.

“Does this look like a fucking game to you? You need to stop fucking joking around.” The troll grounded out, face inches from the other’s.

“And you’re the one who needs to get the stick out of his ass, Vantas.”

“Don’t you get it?” Karkat’s voice raised a decibel in pitch, “People are dying out there! Shit is on fire, my mother is dead-“

“So is mine.”

“FUCK YOU! This isn’t about you! This isn't about your mother! It’s not about you and your dumb human flirtations or your stupid statements. It’s about a whole lot of other shit!”

“Mmhm,” Dave nodded, “You’re right,” And his voice dropped to a deathly, angry whisper, “It’s about an angry little loser troll whose is such a pariah in his own place that he has to rely on a smelly human to get his sorry ass to some even sorrier place of holy worship so he can save a bunch of people who don’t even know he exists. It’s about an angry, bratty troll who never shuts up and keeps crying about how his Mommy is dead and how he’s causing the world to end. That is so much more important than everything else.”

He knew some of what he said were low blows—Hell, he brought up his dead mother, and how he’s been locked away for five sweeps in some church, and was isolated from every other being. Maybe that was why his social skills were so poor; maybe that was why he was so angry all the time (or maybe he was just angry because of this? Now that Dave thought about it, he had not seen Karkat smile once so far).

He also knew he probably deserved the slap-scratch across the face, red marks and tiny pricks of blood blooming because of the troll’s claws, his shades loosening on his face, and on instinct Dave finds himself closing his eyes—because Karkat sure as the almighty sky above their heads does not need to see his eyes.

Even though they would probably make the troll laugh and some miniscule part of Dave thought that that would be a lot nicer to deal with than the anger and the hurt…

Anger and hurt that was clear on the other’s face when Dave was able to open up his eyes again after fixing his shades—and shit, tears too, and a part of the Strider’s brain is wondering how the heck he’s already screwed this up not thirty minutes in, and then he’s thinking about how many times has Karkat cried already today and does he truly need to do more?

“Hey-“

He tried to say something—an ironic apology, maybe, or another quip that’s meant to be funny, maybe get them back on solid ground, because they can be angry at each other, but that doesn’t mean he wants Karkat to cry—but it fails to work, and the troll went stomping off into the woods without a care, almost running as he jumps over a long, fallen branch with nimble legs.

“…Shit.” Dave let out a huff as he wiped the light amount of blood from his face, realizing that some of this just would not do. He didn’t like the other—he was too angry, too unfunny, too…something. Dave wasn’t even sure what yet. Maybe it was bossiness, maybe it was that stick up his ass.

His dislike was borderline hatred, but that didn’t mean he would…would stoop this low.

And besides, even if he did hate Karkat, he was pretty sure that hatred could not compete with the troll’s own self-hatred right now…

Or the self-hatred Dave had for himself.

---

They had found a small town a few miles past the Capital—which, getting out of the city, had been an excursion in itself.

They had found the wall, just like Kanaya had predicted they would, Dave having to run after some time to keep up with Karkat’s deft speed—and his determination to stay away from the human for some time. Eventually, they were at an even pace--though they were not speaking to one another.

The wall—alabaster stone glittering like snow—stood proud and tall above them, and on the parapets men were running back and forth in purple and yellow armor, the moon sigil of the Capital shining proudly on their chests as they scattered about, giving orders and proclamations. Carefully, the duo blended in the shadows, Karkat beginning to kick the dirt in front of him.

“Let me help you.” Dave had spoken up, not out of jest or brutishness, instead hoping to make some sort of amends for earlier.

“I can do it myself, thanks.” The rage was more subtle, and Karkat just sounded tired as he shook his head and got on his knees, hands immediately starting to dig, “Just keep an eye out that no one spots us.”

The other did not reply, but did as the Vantas asked, hand on the hilt of his sword—but he did not have to wait long, because Karkat’s hole was off to a good start after only a handful of minutes; enough of a good start to where he could get his lanky body into the dirt and dig the rest of the way through; it took longer at that point, but eventually Dave heard a triumphant “hah!” and he knew Karkat had punched and clawed the rest of the way through the dirt—even more so when the other spoke back through the hole, his voice echoing out,

“C’mon, Strider. I know you don’t want to get your pretty red dress dirty-“

“Oh lawdy, I certainly don’t.” Dave shouted back, not hiding the smile on his face since the other could not see.

“But we need to get a move on. Get over here.”

“Oh, Karkitty, I hope you say that later tonight. You certainly know how to make a girl quiver.”

Dave wasted no time in climbing into the dirt and roots and worms—even if it was disgusting—and after squirming his way through, there on the other side was the troll, staring down at him while he crouched down.

“Even with dirt all over your face, you’re so pretty, Kitten.”

Karkat said nothing, choosing instead to blink, scoop up some tossed aside grime, and bend forward to smear it on the Strider boy’s forehead with a smirk.

“Now who looks pretty, hmm?” And he was smirking still—some part of Dave’s brain squeaked out that that was a good sign, because they did not have to love and care for each other to a horribly disgusting level, but they sure as hell had to get along. Maybe they were reconciling--maybe this was how they reconciled with one another.

“Excuse you, but I always look pretty. And I take it as an insult that-“

But Dave never finished his sentence, because before he could even blink, there was a hand in his face—Karkat had outstretched his arm.

“Uh…” No one could ever say Dave Strider was not eloquent.

“Come on. We need to keep moving.”

It was all kinds of crazy that Karkat Vantas was standing before him, telling him to take his hand because he would help him out of this hole, even though no one had been there to help Karkat himself, and Dave, if he had gone first, probably would not have been as courteous.

Fuck, Karkat really was the blood descendant of a holy religious figure, wasn’t he?

With a snail’s pace, Dave had taken the other’s hand, his own right appendage falling into the troll’s, and his left came up to grip Karkat’s arm; because even if he was getting help out of his hole, he was not just going to be a damsel and let Karkat completely lift him up all on his own self.

Even if, surprisingly, the other had a lot of strength in that wiry body of his, and Dave was on solid ground after only a few seconds.

“Uh. Thanks.”

A pause from the troll, “Sure. Come on. I’m starting to really hate the woods, and we need to keep moving anyway.”

“It’s kinda crazy, but I’m starting to agree with you.”

And so they had thus walked miles through the trees, pausing only to stop when one of them needed a drink of water, or when Dave had to empty his bladder because of said water breaks; by the time the sun was going down, the sky having been painted blood red and tangerine orange, they had found the small village. Its buildings were shanties, with roofs of metal and wood, and there were only a few electrical wires connected to only some of the homes.

It was hard to ignore the hidden faces that peaked out from the wreckage of homes at the two strangers; Karkat, as he walked next to Dave, silently looked into the homes and back at the children who peaked out at him in wondrous awe. Their skin color was a malnourished gray, horns nubby and hands shaking as some of them held broken toys—while one even held a baby grub of olive color. As the duo continued to walk, the children were ushered into homes, adults gazing at them with suspicion and dread, and why shouldn’t they? Their town was already a disaster zone for the poor, the only place they could afford to live in, and even if there were no televisions and newspapers to alert them to what was going on in the world, it did not take a telescope to see that the Capital was still slowly burning from the earlier meteor attack—it was just out of sheer fate that these peasants and paupers had been spared.

But some of them were still drawn to Karkat’s presence, and it only moderately surprised Dave—walking next to the shorter-than-him creature, he could easily sense an…unusual aura about him, despite his average, moderateness about him. The Strider could not help but wonder that if they had just met on the streets in a normal situation, would there have been anything special about Karkat? Even standing here, though, watching the other bend down to a curious child who had walked up to him, Dave could sense it—there was something different about the other, be it his maturity and destiny was finally kicking in, or the stars and tiredness in his body were playing tricks on Dave’s psyche.

But really, he still thought the troll was an average, borderline-sociopathic, needing-anger-management boy.

Even if he did gently out and take the little child’s doll, neither of them saying anything verbally—probably because words did not need to be said between them.

“…Thanks…” Until Karkat whispered a polite appreciation, and the human realized that this was the calmest he had ever seen the Vantas boy.

The spell broke, though, when the child scurried off at the plea of her mother, her lithe body running in the raggedy, patchwork dress fluttering behind her as she went inside a shack that could not have been even as big as one of the church’s bedrooms had been.

“…What was with that?” Dave piped up as Karkat stood still as a stone, his eyes trained on the ground.

“…She was a mutant blood.”

That caused the human to blink, “How could you tell? She wasn’t bleeding anywhere.”

Karkat merely took out his sylladex, captchaloging the toy he has received as a gift, and took a moment to reply softly to Dave, “I could just tell. And if she’s living in this environment…she won’t have long to live.”

Neither had noticed that Karkat had actually seen her blood color--because neither of them knew such a fact.

Neither of them had seen Karkat's eyes--pupil and iris--turn a bright red and glow for a precious few seconds before remaining red, and then fading to their normal color.

And neither of them could tell that Karkat's vision had shown him a girl with bright red blood--who would die by the time their journey came to an end.

“…” The human kept silent, and patted Karkat’s shoulder, guiding him to a larger building in the town, hoping it was a hotel—and it (sort of) was. More of a restaurant than anything, but with a few beds for travelers that would pass through the town. It was one of the few ways the entire town made money, and the two companions did not have a problem with giving them a little coin and boondollar.

But because it was a poor place meant that there was a lack of good food—and as they took a seat at a table, Dave snickered at the look on the other’s face; because the town rarely had trolls passing through, the restaurant had a lack of edible goods for him, and he was forced to suffer through staring at a plate of “shitty gunk”, as he called it.

“…What the fuck is this again?” A gray appendage poked at the yellow and green mass on the side of his plate.

“It’s called a casserole, Kitten,” Dave replied as he snacked on the last chocolate chip cookie the place had; when they had been shown the last remaining food the restaurant had for the week, the next shipment not coming in until three days later (if they were lucky—with The End coming, the boys could not help but wonder if that shipment would ever make it), there had only been a human cookie, casserole, cabbage, three apples (which Karkat sure as hell did not want to eat), a small roasted bird (which Dave sure as hell didn’t want to eat), and bread. Dave took the cookie and the apples (which Karkat shoved at him, Christ, the guy had a complex about apples now after today, what luck), while the troll helped himself to the rest, begrudgingly.

“Just eat something, Kitten. We don’t want to waste the rations Maryam gave us, so we need to eat this instead.”

“I don’t even know if I can eat this shit! Didn’t they teach you in your anatomy classes that we have different food processing units?”

Dave shrugged, “I highly doubt you’ll get sick over bread, at least.”

“…” With a tired sigh, Karkat complied, picking up the hard loaf and clawing off an end to munch on—it was not great, not like his Mother’s bread, but it was something; they fell into a comfortable silence for some time, Dave wondering if he could possibly turn one of the apples into juice (and should thus save it), while Karkat morosely stared at the table, saying nothing for some time.

“…Sorry about your mom.” Until he spoke up in a whisper, snapping Dave out of his ironic reprieve.

“Say what now?”

“…Your mother. You said she was dead. I’m sorry I brought her up. Even if I’m disgusted by your very presence, I shouldn’t have brought up your mother like that.”

“Shit, don’t apologize,” Dave waved a hand, trying to blow off the subject, “She died when I was a baby, hardly remember her.”

Karkat said nothing, and the silence they fell into was more uncomfortable now—because really, Karkat was just continually showing how he could be a good person, while Dave kept showing he was an immature brat. And Strider boys certainly couldn’t let that happen.

“Uh. Sorry about your mom, too.”

But he was still far from eloquent about it, though.

“…I never even got to say goodbye…”

“…Me neither, really.”

Karkat shook his head, “But you didn’t even get to really know her, right? It’s more painful when there’s something to miss…”

Silence for a moment, then Karkat spoke, and just like that, Dave wondered if the boy before him had aged sweeps before his very eyes,

“Have you ever had the pleasure of watching someone die right before your very eyes?”

Dave’s expression gave away nothing, except for the miniscule twitch of his mouth, “Yeah. I actually have.”

At that, Karkat blinked, “Who?”

Immediately, the walls came up, “Why should I tell you?”

“What do you have to fucking lose?”

The Strider boy crossed his arms, turning his head away as he spoke, “You know about Dirk, right? Older brother, three years older than me, obsessed with robots and tech and cute English boys. I had another one. We just called him ‘Bro’—really, that’s what we called him, don’t look so surprised—and he took care of us after Mom died.”

“What happened?”

“Hey hey, Kitten, you can’t rush a masterful storyteller.” Dave quipped as he took a drink of water, “Anyway, Bro…was really cool. Took care of two boys on his own, gave up his whole life. He wanted to go into music production, own his own studio, and I kind of want to follow in his footsteps—no, I’m not copying him at all, which people have said—but anyway…He uh. Our apartment was getting robbed one day—kind of crazy, the guy was all dressed in black, and he supposedly had a few crows with him, it was just insane, and my Bro grabbed his sword and was eventually in an all-out fight with the son of a bitch. Me, I was crouching in the corner in my pajamas, watching him go to town on his guy.”

Dave took a moment to take a drink from his own glass of water, continuing afterwards, “And before my very eyes, Bro slashes this guy down and he’s bleeding out on the floor; and Bro gets down to kneel before him, making sure the guy is dead, and…”

The boy trailed off, because he could not finish that sentence…

He could not speak the truth—that the little child Dave was at the time muttered out, spoke out with, “Bro! You did it!” and had distracted his elder guardian enough to where he had turned his thin and baseball-capped head to his sibling, and missed the slow, but still alive, breaths from the intruder…

And he missed the intruder’s hand grabbing the Strider's own katana, and shoving it into Bro’s chest with a painful and quick slash, dying not a moment afterwards with a diabolical smile on his face, while Bro staggered back, his face not betraying his pain and fear, gloved hands shaking as they touched the thin steel and its black hilt.

But none of them missed Dave’s scream as he watched his brother collapse, as his other brother came running into the room to grab him and hold him back, Dave watching as Bro bleed out on the floor, Dirk grabbing the home phone to call for help.

And only Dave knew that he had distracted his Bro enough to where he had not seen the deathly blow coming.

“And? And what, you asshole?” Karkat was snapping his fingers in his face, Dave blinking out of his flashback.

“W-Wha-…Oh. Uh. The creep grabbed me at one point, and Bro tackled him to the ground, but, well…Got stabbed in the chest while killing the guy. So he’s pretty much a hero, saved my life and everything.”

The last part of that was true, though—Bro had saved the lives of his two siblings that night, and had died heroically. He had been quite a true hero.

A hero Dave could never measure up to…

“That…Well.” Karkat could not say anything for a moment, and then, “You loved him a lot, didn’t you?”

A flash of red. A pool of blood.

A child’s scream.

“No, not really.”

Whether it was because Karkat saw right through the lie, or just didn’t care, he failed to contradict the human, and instead smirked down at the table, still eating the bread in his hands without any more conversation.

They said no more words as they entered their sleeping quarters, but once the both of them glanced at the other at the fact that there was only one bed for them to share, that changed:

“I’m not sleeping on the floor.”

“Me neither, Kitten. Guess you get to cuddle up to a Strider for the night.” Dave smirked at the other, his mind still a torrential downpour from the earlier conversation, but what better way to recover from angst than to jest with Mister-Stick-Up-His-Ass?

“Remind me to shower a couple of dozen times in the fucking morning, then.” Karkat growled out—literally, growled—and flopped onto the bed, back to Dave, his body curling up into itself as the stars were coming outside, stars that could be seen from the small windowless hole in the roof; thank goodness it was not going to rain.

“Like I won’t need it? You kind of smell too, Vantas.”

But Karkat said nothing, and merely pulled the thin sheet they had been given for a blanket over his body; and truly, Dave did not care…

For the moment his body hit the bed, after a quick change of clothes once he could confirm that the other was asleep, and his head hit the pillow, he was out like a light, and found himself dreaming shortly after.

---

There was blood—so, so much blood.

It was a similar color to his, but bright red—candy red.

Dave could see it at his feet, and while he sat there on his knees, it was pooling all around him, soaking into the fabric of his red Knight pants; and when he lifted up his hands, it was all over his fingers.

He could hear his voice—but not HIS OWN voice—panting out and hyperventilating and when Dave lifted his head, there was the body of Karkat in front of him, stomach sliced open with a giant hole, eyes glassy and unmoving, hands at his sides.

“KARKAT! Oh, GOD, KARKAT!” Dave scrambled over to him, hands clawing at the troll’s, and his could see that they were surrounded by lava and floating gears and rock fragmentations stretching up to the sky, “Shit, shit, you’re going to be okay, Kitten, you’re going to be fine, she’s gone, you’re going to be okay.”

Through his first-person vision, his hands—but not his own—were working on Karkat’s chest, pushing, trying to resuscitate the troll even though it was clearly a losing game; Dave even saw his stained hands pick up the other’s face, trying to kiss him (or was it so he could breathe air into his lungs? He could not tell) in hopes that something would work.

“No, no, no , no, we’ve come too far, come on Kitten, wake up for me, it’s going to be okay, Dave’s got you, didn’t I tell you I’d always catch you? Come on, babe, you gotta wake up, you’re going to…you’re going to…”

He could hear his own voice cracking, and a choked sob made its way out of Dave’s lips and throat, and before he could react, his vision changed, and it took Dave a moment to realize that he was falling back with a scream, eyes looking up at the burning sky as he started to cry.

But he did not have much time to react, before two hands came out and covered his eyes, vision fading to black, and-

He sat up with a wrecked breath, wide red eyes staring at the wall across from the bed; his body was covered in a sheen of sweat, pajama shirt of red and white (with the Knight of Time disc sigil on them) sticking to his skin. Immediately, Dave’s head turned to the left, and there he was.

Alive and well, Karkat was slumbering, and Dave found himself sighing even if his heart was still beating five hundred miles a minute; a tired hand rubbed the bridge of his nose where his glasses usually sat, but once he had made sure Karkat was well off in his slumber, he had removed them. He also would make sure to only put them on when the other was not looking (or hopefully still asleep), but right now, in this moment, he was not worried about that.

With shaking fingers, Dave reached out to touch the other’s neck for a pulse point, and yes, there it was, still beating. Even if Karkat could have probably mimicked the dead while he slept, on his back, hands folded across his chest in a reverent pose.

“Shit…Shit…” Dave could only whisper as the images still wracked his brain, even when he closed his eyes in fear and shame. Striders did not have horrible, terrifying nightmares about other people dying. They just don't.

…But that had been no nightmare.

He knew what that was.

It wasn’t a dream.

It was real. Horrifyingly real. Real in all senses of the word.

It was real, but it just did not exist here. It did not exist in this Time.

And it was just nightmare number one…

There were many, many more…

At least ninety-nine…

To come…

Chapter Text

Three

Blessed Be the Liars

Dave didn’t go back to sleep that night; after looking at his watch, and realizing it was just shy of three in the morning, he crawled out of the dingy bed to sit against the wall facing it—and facing Karkat as well. Every time he closed his eyes to try and rest, all he could see was blood and gore and a dead Karkat. So, he figured, he might as well not close his eyes at all.

They had warned him about the soon-to-come visions, once he had been proclaimed to be a Knight of Time; others in the organization had contacted him through letters and Pesterchum, the online chat server that was popular on two planets, not just one, and told him that when he was coming into the height of his powers, he would start to see visions—of other time streams. Of other time lines that existed in other realms, in other places; places that maybe in adulthood he could enter and look upon physically, but for now, in the heat of puberty, he could only see them in his dreams—his nightmares—without warning.

But it was the subject of the dreams that bothered Dave; if that was an alternate timeline—and at this point, because it had been in first-person vision, and had contained both Karkat and himself, he was pretty sure it was—what had been going on? Was he taking Karkat to the Altar of Blood in that timeline as well? In every timeline that existed?

Worse, though—was that Karkat truly dead? Had he, in some alternate world, lost the goal of keeping Karkat safe enough to get him to the Altar? And was Dave himself dead in that world…?

But probably the biggest question was this—was Karkat alive and well in other worlds? Because surely there was not just one alternate timeline…

…Right?

There were too many questions and not enough answers for Dave, and he was getting a headache pretty damn fast, so he decided to stop thinking all together for the next few hours, and instead chose to sit there, and either watch Karkat sleep, or clean his sword, for there were still some spots of purple blood from yesterday’s strife with Gamzee.

Though at this time of the morning, the Strider boy had no qualms watching Karkat, for he slept the opposite of how he talked: peaceful, curled up in himself, only tossing and turning once in a while. He wasn’t sure if Karkat ever experienced nightmares because of who he was, or if they had just not started yet. Dave made a note to keep an eye on that for future reference.

Around seven, Karkat finally stirred, and Dave looked up from his knees and broke his inner monologue of strategies and rap lyrics (an odd combination, but hey, it worked, right?) and gazed at the other; the Vantas’ eyes were open just a slight amount, his mouth a small frown, and when his voice came out, it was the softest the human had ever heard it,

“Morning, asshole.”

It was quiet—and tired. Karkat had never sounded so tired, and right then and there, Dave was pretty sure the other hadn’t slept well, either.

“Morning, Sunshine.” Dave retorted with, a half-smile on his face.

“What are you doing up already?” He didn’t sound accusatory, and it was strange, because most of Karkat’s questions were accusations.

“Just felt like getting up before you.”

“…You’ve been up a while?” The troll slowly sat up, pushing the sheet aside and rubbing his eyes.

“Does it matter?” Dave shrugged while standing and their eyes met after his question; no more words were spoken, because it had not been a denial, but it was not a confirmation either.

They both did not need to banter back and forth about the subject any further—both of them just knew.

They skipped out on a morning meal, instead choosing to change clothes and head outside, foregoing any conversation with the rest of the denizens of the small town; for once, they were in agreement that they might as well leave as soon as they could, and get further along the pathway of their journey.

They, unfortunately, did not get far before a distraction turned up.

Just outside the town, sitting on a triangular boulder seated in the ground, was a girl. She looked no more than five sweeps herself, and the boys got a clear view of her front—she was a troll. Gray skin stood out against the mint gingham dress she wore and the matching green and white tennis-shoes she wore. On her face were red glasses, and on top of her head were two pointy horns, while her hair was short and black as night. Once she lifted her head and spotted the duo in front of her, a gigantic grin split her face.

“Hello boys! Hehe.”

“Uh, hi—HOLY SHIT.”

And that was when she unfurled her wings from behind her back.

Teal-colored wings exploded behind her, bat-like and demonic—a sister pair to Gamzee’s from before—and a matching tail slithered out into a view. A tail that had been missing from Gamzee's form, so did only the females have them? It was possible.

She was no average troll girl. She was a demon.

On cue, Karkat pulled out his sickles, while Dave unsheathed his sword; instincts kicked in for the latter, and he found himself moving his body in front of the troll boy. But the girl? She merely laughed.

“Woah, woah, sheesh guys, calm down.” She waved a hand and hopped off the rock, dusting off her dress. “Name’s Terezi, and yeah, I’m a demon-”

Karkat let out a nervous chuckle, “REALLY?! I just thought your wings were a fucking COSTUME.”

“Let me finish!” A huff, and Terezi then continued, “As I was saying before you interrupted me, I’m a demon, and I was supposed to kill you, Karkat. Yup, don’t look so surprised! I know exactly who you are! A Demon of Mind knows these kind of things, see?” She stuck out her tongue between black lips and sharp teeth, and began to stroll around the duo, Dave slowly following her and staying in front of the Vantas boy.

“Oh yeah? Listen, sweetheart,” Dave spoke up, “We’re not looking for trouble. I just gotta get Vantas here somewhere, and we don’t have a problem with you. ”

“Mmhm, and I don’t have a problem with you!” She let out a cackle, and stopped walking, leaning in to let out a sniff or two directed at Dave, “You’re the cool-kid, right? Strider? I saw you in my head, I saw that you were coming, and I knew you’d be here. You’re just a lot cooler in person!”

“Uh, thanks-“

“Anyway, if you had been listening carefully, I said I was supposed to kill Karkles.” Terezi pointed right at the troll boy, “But I’m not going to.”

At that, the boys began lowering their weapons, Karkat slowly letting out a “What?”

“Yeah! I was ordered to kill you, bring your essence back to the Big Guy himself, after that stupid Gamzee failed, but I realized, after looking at you both through my Mind abilities, you’re actually pretty cool. And in all honesty, I’m pretty tired of having to work for a big troll with way too much hair.”

The boys paused, saying nothing until Dave questioned the girl with, “So what are you saying, exactly?”

“What aren’t I saying? Hehehe! I’m saying I’m not going to kill you! And that I want to come with you guys!”

“Come with us?”

“Hell yeah!” Terezi moved, and threw an arm around Dave’s shoulder, “Think about it. You’re headed to the Land of Heat and Clockwork next, and you’re gonna need a gal with wings to get you two boys places. And I figured at the end of this, we can all just be friends. They won’t find me, anyway. I can smoke myself out of places pretty quickly. Besides, every dashing, cool duo needs a female companion—it always happens in every troll novel!”

The Strider boy stood still for some moments while Terezi rocked on her heels, smiling at him, and letting out small cackles now and then; Karkat, meanwhile, while bristling underneath his baggy clothes, felt something was off about the entire situation. A demon, choosing to go against her kind and be their friend? After they were nearly killed by one? It just seemed too…too off.

“Come on! I swear, I'm not gonna hurt you guys!” Terezi skipped over and moved her arm to Karkat’s shoulder, pulling him in close, “I can fight, I can use Mind powers to help you, I can fly, and I can fight with a cane-sword, see?” She pulled out from her pink and purple sylladex a plain red cane, cracking it open to reveal a pointed, white sword. “I’m great at this, you guys need me!”

“…Fine.” Dave finally spoke, and Karkat immediately whirled on him,

“WHAT?! Are you out of your damn mind?! She’s a DEMON! YOU TRUST HER?!”

“She hasn’t given us a reason not to trust her, Vantas.”

“She doesn’t need to!” The red-blood shouted back, “She’s a demon.”

“Aw, Karkat, that’s a bit racist, don’tcha think?” Terezi spoke up, letting the boy go in order to cross her arms and smirk devilishly at him, “Can’t I be that good-demon put in a bad spot?”

“UH, NO!? You’re forgetting that I read about your kind for sweeps, and that I was always taught—and I believe this is pretty fucking true, since once of you nearly killed me—that you things were evil!”

“Dude, come on,” Dave countered him, “Why can’t we just give her a shot? And if she turns out to be bad news, we can shank her.”

“Yep!” The creature saluted the boys, with a little hop and jump in her step, “Demon Pyrope at your service, Mister D-Strider! And if I disobey you or end up trying to kill you due to demonic instincts, you can slice open my throat, and listen to me bleed out at your feet, hehehe!”

Dave let out a laugh at her statement, and lifted his hand; Terezi let out a gasp at the motion,

“Are you…Are you offering a high five?!”

The other shrugged, “Eh, why not? You seem pretty with it, and you’re at least not punching me.”

“HEY!” Karkat spat and fumed at the statement, while Terezi just laughed.

“HEHEHEHE!” Terezi let out another giggle and slapped the blond’s hand with her own sharply-clawed one, and then gave him a pat on the back. “Well, let’s get out of here! C’mon boys!”

Dave only grinned and began following her at an even pace…while Karkat began to lag behind, watching them walk ahead.

He had a very, very bad feeling about this—he just knew. How could Dave just so easily go along with this…this demon-chick!?

It probably was because she was a chick, knowing his luck. Dave probably swooned in front of all the ladies while putting all his irons on the fire, Karkat believed; he probably couldn’t help it, though. He was good looking by human standards, and had an aura of mystery and deceptiveness that made him alluring to any female of that species. Or at least, that was what Karkat was willing to hypothesize. He knew a few trolls had been like that—well, the ones he read about in stories, anyway.

And okay, maybe Terezi was pretty cool, and a pretty girl, but she was still a demon…Demons lied, demons took souls, demons seduced for crying out loud!

He was never born to be trusting (and certainly not trusting of creatures and cretins) because it was in his nature; he was a troll that never pulled anyone close, and only those that had been there from the beginning were allowed to blow up his walls, or at least try and climb them half the time.

And in this situation? This was no different.

Karkat barely trusted Dave, so why should he even try to trust this Terezi girl?

Unfortunately...

It looked like he had little choice in the matter.

Again.

---

She was charming him—that was clear.

At first, Karkat’s idea of being wary of the Pyrope chick seemed to rub off on Dave; he was cordial, laughing once in a while, and still having his sword on him at all time, and he never left her alone with Karkat.

But all that began to change as their journey towards LOHAC grew shorter and shorter. They were sticking to the fields away from civilization, and for two days alone, they were up to their waists in wheat-fields and weed-fields. At night, they camped out on flat dirt patches and gazed up at the sky, Terezi making cracks about how she could smell the stars and they smelled like balls of sweet sugar some nights, and feces other nights. But each time there were meteors streaking across, all three of them were silent—yes, even the demon was silent at the oncoming destruction that happened randomly and happenstance on Alternia. And boy, did it happen, at least every other night, for at least five minutes at a time. Meteors streaked across the sky, landing in different directions each time, little, light balls of fire popping up on the horizon wherever they landed.

And her jokes about the stars (and lack of jokes about the meteors) were part of her charm. Because, Karkat noticed, as they got closer and closer to the lava-drenched world that awaited them, Dave grew closer and closer to the creature in their party. He would laugh more often at her jokes, draw pictures with her in the dirt and sand at their feet, or on the stones with her bright red chalk, and talk amongst themselves—without Karkat.

Okay, part of that was due to Karkat’s own doing. They had invited him, at first, on their excursions and joyous romping through the grass and he had been more than welcome during their artistic explorations—he just never said yes. For the first three times, he turned them down, huffing in anger at their stupidity and saying they were being distracted from the entire journey.

They had countered by saying they were just having fun, and they thus stopped inviting him.

And now, in current time, they would go off on their own into the nearby green woods to talk and do “whatever it was they were doing”, in Karkat’s words. He would hear Terezi giggle and Dave make some “cool comment” and hear more giggles…And then even when they were walking in the grass or Terezi was hopping from tree to tree in the woods, he could hear flirty remarks from both of them, and see the demon hop onto the other’s back with a laugh.

They were closer—in an uncomfortable fashion—and Karkat was the man on the outside looking in.

Once again, he was on the outside of the world, looking in at people who were enjoying themselves, seeming to not care that he was being hunted for dead, and that he would probably die by the end of everything.

So that was why during another lull of their journey, Karkat decided to wait for the Strider boy to get back from the woods with Terezi—and it didn’t take him long.

“Sup?” Dave quipped as he appeared from the trees, Karkat sitting in front of another, one leg stretched out on the grass, another pulled towards his body.

“Listen. I don’t like this.”

“Don’t like what, Karkles?”

The troll growled at the nickname, and stood as Dave brushed some dirt off from his pants.

“This. You and Terezi hanging out so much. I thought we weren’t going to trust her!”

Dave shrugged, “It’s been almost a week since we met her, Vantas. And has she tried to kill you?”

“…Well. No. But that doesn’t mean-“

“I think it does. Just let it go, man.”

“So just like that, you trust her now?”

“Why not? She’s helped us, hasn’t she?”

That caused Karkat to pause, because it was true. Terezi had been very useful to them. She had helped them scope out safe places to sleep, away from dangerous wildlife and wild luses; she had used her cane to fish from the river they had passed a day back; and although she was blind, her sense of smell and sense of taste were superb, and she had found fresh berries and useable logs for fires.

“She’s done nothing we couldn’t have accomplished on our own, asshole.”

At that, Dave snorted and just shook his head, “You’re a special kind of paranoid, Kitten. If it wasn’t so annoying, it’d be fucking endearing.”

“And you’re a special kind of naïve. I would bet you all the money in the world that by the time we get to the Land of Heat and Clockwork, she’ll have gutted me like a fish!”

“Okay, I have to ask,“ Dave paused, smiling, “Is this about the time she licked you just to make you smile?”

“What? NO!” Karkat shouted back as Dave laughed, “Can’t you take me serious just this one time?! She’s still a demon, and demons lie! She’s lying to and is trying to get to you!”

“I don’t think she’s lying, little man. She really does want to help us.”

“Says YOU! Me, I think she’s just trying to get on your good side!”

"Oh come on, Kitten, really…?”

“Yes. So you should stop all those…all those human flirtations that you do with her! She’s just using you!”

“Human flirt—“ Dave blinked behind his shades, raising a pale eyebrow, “Dude. You think we’re flirting.” It wasn’t a question by any means.

“Uh, yeah, because you ARE!”

A snort, “Okay, look, I don’t know what God has been telling you through those funky little visions in your head-“

“I don’t get visions from God, fuckwipe. They don’t work like that!”

“But Terezi and I aren’t a thing. We ain’t dating. We’re just friends.”

“Sure you are.” Karkat snorted, crossing his arms, “She hangs all over you and you go off to spend time with her alone.”

“News flash: we invited you to hang out with us, and you just kept saying no, so we stopped bothering with you.”

A twitch—and a twang of hurt—came across Karkat’s face, “I…I still think you’re flirting with her. And that—that’s not something we need! Look, I don’t want to be doing this as much as you, but we have to. You saw the meteors last night just as clearly as I did. And…And FLIRTING with her is just a distraction! Your head isn’t with it!”

Dave snickered at that, “Holy shit. You’re jealous of me.”

“WHAT?!” Karkat’s eyes buggered out, his hands stilling in mid-air at the shock, “I’m WHAT?!”

“Face it dude. You’re jealous of me. Look, Terezi likes cool guys. I can’t help it if she’d rather hang out with me than you. Though, it’s also probably due to the fact that, one, you still don’t trust her, and two, you’re a prickly little bitch the majority of the time.”

“I’m not JEALOUS of you! I could never be jealous of you!” Sure, he could have enjoyed the idea of being friends with Terezi—maybe in another life, in another time, he could have been—but that…that was not the problem. Or at least, not the heart of it. It was not the arrow in Karkat’s back, it was not the knife in his heart—there was something more and he wasn’t sure what it was.

“Please, Kitten. Everyone’s jealous of the Striders.” Dave let a slight grin bloom on his face and began to walk away from the troll boy, obviously done with the conversation.

“Just…Just stop flirting with her, and keep your head in the game! And you just need to spend less time with her! We need to just…stay together and keep going. You and I just need to stick together and keep going, screw her being involved.”

“I don’t need to do anything-“ But Dave did not finish his sentence, and instead chose to cease his walking, biting his lip in concentration; slowly, he turned back around to Karkat, and questioned him with a tilt of his head.

“You’re not jealous of me. You’re jealous of her.”

Silence— pure silence echoed out in the forest, and Karkat sputtered out a, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You’re jealous of her. You want to be spending time with me, is that it? You want me to flirt with you, right?”

“WHAT?! N-NO!”

But something in Karkat’s gut twisted at the accusation—a part of him did want the Strider’s friendship. He wanted Dave to look at him with compassion—or at least kindness and liking. The same kinds of looks he gave Terezi, even though he’d only known her seven days. He wanted some kind of alliance and friendship between the two of them, because they had been drawn together, they had been put together. It did not have to be actual friendship—Dave could be such an asshole, and Karkat could hardly stand him half the time—but some actual kind words, and not silence. Silence that occurred while words were shared with Terezi.

“Oh God, this is actually pretty fucking hilarious. Now you want to hang out with me? Even though you’ve repeatedly told me you hate my fucking guts? That’s classic.”

“SHUT UP! I NEVER SAID ANY OF THAT!”

“You didn’t have to! It’s pretty clear now what you want. And you want me to flirt with you? You actually missed me calling you Princess and making comments about kissing you?”

“FUCK NO! SHUT UP!” Karkat let out another shout, face turning away, eyes wide and a bit misty, shame creeping up into his blood-pusher.

“You are. It’s pretty clear, dude.” Dave snickered, stepping towards the troll, until the Vantas child was nearly backed up against a tree, “Look, here’s the thing. You don’t have any people skills. Nothing ever seems to satisfy you. You constantly berate me, and sometimes it’s actually pretty funny and I even kind of like it sometimes. But more than half the time, I can’t stand you. And you’ve repeatedly told me you can’t stand how amazing and wonderful I am. So why should I even be bothered to try with you half the time? You’re not willing to change.”

“Neither are you. And you’re not willing to talk to me or even ask me why I’m so angry—are you?”

Dave paused, trying to recover from the unfortunately true statement, and countered with, “And now, of all times, when I actually find someone I can converse with as a friend, you immediately get all up and angry, and want my attention instead? You’re like that jealous bratty kid next door.”

“Shut up. Just shut up.” Karkat closed his eyes, turning his face away, eyes closing out of desperation.

“And you think I’m flirting with some girl and you’re furious about that? Look, take this personally, or don’t if you want, I don’t care, but they couldn’t pay me to flirt with you. And it’s not because you’re a guy—trust me, I think I have a bit of a thing for guys’ asses—it’s just because it’s you and your ugly face.”

Dave had pointed his sentence with a poke to Karkat’s chest, and the latter’s shoulders slumped—he understood immediately.

He knew he was ugly.

He knew he was shorter by troll standards, skinner by troll standards, with gray pasty skin, dark little freckles on his cheeks, and horns that were a shame compared to everyone else’s horns of varying shape and stature. Even Terezi's horns were at least pointy and worthwhile.

His body was freezing up, and it clearly showed; or maybe Dave just realized the magnitude of what he had said, because he slowly backed up, looking away for a moment, trying to pull back into his cool guy façade, and after a moment, he softly spoke up,

“Hey…Karkat…I…”

The words were stuck in his throat, and he chanced a glance at the other, who was staring at the ground as if it held all the secrets in the world.

“Karkat, I didn’t…Look, man, I was pissed-“

He reached out, hoping to touch the other’s hand, but the troll immediately tensed and bolted, running around a tree and quickly darting over the bushed surrounding him.

“KARKAT…Shit.” Dave had taken a few steps after the other, but the Vantas had a knack for being lost in the shadows—and had easily done just that.

None of this—any of this—was turning out to be great.

He knew immediately, once the words had left his throat, that he had been out of line and had delivered (another) low-blow to the red-blood; and hell, it wasn’t even totally true—Karkat did have a bit of a cute butt and his grumpy face was kind of—okay, NOT important right now!

And it was not certainly important that some small, small part of Dave had gotten a bit of satisfaction that Karkat had wanted his attention…had actually been jealous that Terezi had captured his attention for the time being.

That was certainly unimportant for the time being, too.

Because everything was just…just…

“Shit…Just. Shit.”

---

In his frustrations, the albino boy made his way back into the woods back to Terezi, and flopped down with all the grace of a hunted-and-killed swan, with a frustrated grunt added in for extra value.

“Something the matter, cool kid?”

Dave shrugged, “Just screwed up things with Vantas, again.”

“Mmm…” Terezi was seated on a rock, eating what appeared to be some form of gummy candy, all the pieces being red; she claimed the “gummy grubs” were the most delicious of treats, and had been handcrafted from the depths of the Seventh Circle of Hell. “You seem to do that a lot, don’t you?”

“Don’t remind me. Seriously, don’t. I don’t know what the little dude’s problem is, TZ. He’s just…always like a volcano. Spewing hate and…anger and shit. It drives me crazy, he drives me crazy.”

Another few moment of chomping on candy was the only response Dave got at his statement for some time, until Terezi spoke up,

“Have you ever asked him why he's so angry all the time?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s because of this ‘end-of-the-world’ bullshit. Add the obligatory ‘duh’ to the end of that sentence, would you kindly?” Dave rolled his eyes, but Terezi just smirked back at him.

“Yeah? You really so sure?”

“…Yes?” The Strider turned towards her, “What, you know something?”

“Yes and no, hehe! You see, you’re right. It really is about the end of the world stuff, but don’t you realize that he blames himself for it?”

“Well, yeah? Fuck, Terezi, he just happens to mention it every single day. Don’t you hear him?” Dave went on to imitate the troll boy, “’Oh, woe is fucking me. I’m causing the end of the world, blah blah, blah, someone, everyone, wants me dead.’”

The demon girl sighed, shaking her head, “Yeah, yeah, but have you ever actually listened to him? And thought about why he says any of that?”

“Is there even a need to?”

Terezi, who normally smiled all the time, now pulled her black lips into a frown, “Dave. He wishes he was dead—no, he wishes he’d never been born. Karkles is angry at the world, but he’s angrier at himself.”

“I…I knew that.” Maybe a tiny, tiny part of him knew that—but he never just realized it.

“Did you?”

“I…But come on, why does he need to hate himself? It’s not like he wanted to be born…right?”

The Pyrope girl looked away, out at the river in front of her, “No one should feel enough despair that they’d wish to not have been born. Hell, I’m technically supposed to be evil incarnate and I don’t want that for anyone. Life’s a bad enough road as it is, no one should feel that kind of pain, right?”

“…Yeah…”

“…Dave. He blames himself for everything. For every single person that died days ago. For every single person that’s going to die. He blames himself for his Mother’s death, for dragging you out of your normal lifestyle. For the money, for everything. And he knows what’s coming, too.”

“…He does?” Dave’s voice was becoming smaller and smaller, shoulders sinking lower.

“He’s been having visions—he’s not sleeping well. I know you haven’t either, but…he hides it pretty well. Hides it from you, anyway. But demons like to get up at night, and I don’t need sleep, so…I’ve seen him. He’ll get up and wander away and come back just before you wake up, so you think he’s been sleeping.”

The Strider looked away, to pick at the grass, “Do you know what he’s dreaming about?”

Terezi shrugged, “Pretty sure he’s dreaming about the Four Horsemen. The angels. The demons. Death. Everything a Messiah’s supposed to see. And every time he sees something, he wishes just a bit more that he was dead.”

“And you know this because of Mind powers?”

“Yup.” Terezi nodded, eating another candy, “…You want the honest truth, cool guy?”

“Shoot. Can't be any worse than what you've already said."

“You might as well put him on a suicide watch.”

Well, Dave realized he could retract his earlier statement. And at that, his hand stilled, and his head whipped over to the girl beside him, “You’re not fucking serious.”

“Think about it. If you had two large groups of people wanting you dead, and you didn’t see any way out, and one of them was going to kill you—without a shadow of a doubt—wouldn’t you rather go out the way you wanted to go out?”

“Well, yes, but c’mon, there’s this third way that we’re going to-“

“That might not even work, D-Stri. You and I both know that and Karkat’s pretty sure of it. I wouldn’t be surprised if he just did it to himself so nobody would get the satisfaction of winning. And he already feels alone, depressed, self-hatred, without friends…you’ve got a ticking time bomb on his hands.”

Dave let out a breathy wheeze of frustration, running a hand through his hair, “Are you telling me all of this to make me feel like the biggest jackass on the planet? Because I really fucking do.”

“Nah!” The teal-blooded creature let out a cackle, “Even if you are an asshole in general. But I like that about you.”

“Yeah, well, I hate that about me right about now. Shit, TZ, I…You don’t know what I said to him earlier-“

“Uh, yeah I do?”

“Fuck you and your mind powers.” Dave spat, but there was only a tiny bit of malice in it.

“Hehe.” A pause, “…He’s got a fine ass?”

That got a chuckle out of the human, “Well, kind of, yeah…Shit, you’re not going to tell him I thought that, right?”

“Nah, that stays between us cool people.” They let another high five happen between the two of them, and Dave, though still in a sour mood, and already hating himself more, found something to smile about.

“So…You think I should talk to him?”

“I think you both need to talk, hehe. Or yell. Or do something involving butts, whatever.” Terezi let out a snort when Dave just rolled his eyes, “Seriously! Butts are fun.”

“Real butts are fun. When I was a kid, I got smuppet butt shoved in my face the entire time and that wasn’t fun at all—I still did before I came here, hell, let’s just say my whole life, okay?”

“I’m not gonna ask what a smuppet is, but yeah, you should talk to him. And I’m not saying he’s off the hook either—he’s still pretty rude and brash and screams too much at everyone, but…”

“…But he’s got a reason to. And I’m one of those reasons. Or I have been, right?”

“Yup. I think some of it’s in his blood, too, though. You know his ancestor, this…Signless guy?”

“No, Terezi, I don’t know him at all. Enlighten me about this enlightening man-troll…whatever.”

“Okay, cool guy, listen up. Well, people say that the Signless' soul went on a bit too...angry. When he passed on, that is. When he died, and when he found out they killed his Knight, his Lover. I don't blame him, I'd be angry if that'd happened to me. So maybe Karkat inherited some of that anger from his dad. From what I've been told, the Signless was pretty chill most of his life, but towards the end, it was difficult, and he could get angry--turns out only his Knight was the one who could soothe him."

"I...Guess that does make some sense, yeah."

"Wanna know something else? Well, it turns out my ancestor—who was a regular troll—was a follower of his. They were actually pretty tight, like brother-sister sorta stuff.”

“Seriously? You’re shitting me.” Dave smirked, reaching over and stealing a gummy candy from the girl.

“Nope! Her title was the Neophyte Redglare. She was all about justice!” Terezi smiled, and her red-eyes, blinded from a hell-fire ‘incident’ caused by a certain ‘sister’, lit up behind her matching shades, “She would fight bad guys, and went around in this cool outfit, and hanged people.”

“Yeah? That’s cool. My bro played with porn of smuppets and was a DJ. And collected swords.”

“…Are those impressive feats in your human culture?”

A pause, “Yes.”

“Sweet! Fuck yeah, then! Hehehe!”

“Mmhm. So what happened to this Redglare? If she was a regular troll, how’d you come into play?”

Terezi shrugged, “Well, Redglare passed on her genetic material like everyone else—so I guess she’s technically my ‘mom’—and when she died, it was stored away with the head Mother Grub. What they don’t tell you is that sometimes angels and demons steal this genetic material for their own purposes. Thus, demons stole me, and lo and behold, the radical TZ was created. I was raised by a dragon lusus in the pits of Hell, and here I am!”

“Mm. Decent story.”

“Hell yeah! Much better than my sister’s. The angels got a part of my mom's genetic material too, and she turned into an angel. Apparently she’s an ‘archangel’, whatever that is.”

“Well, shit, I’m pretty sure my brother in death never got to be that badass. Lucky you.”

“Yeah, but I never see her. And I don’t really think I want to—it’d probably mess up my psyche, hehe.”

They fell into a comfortable silence for some time, Dave lying back in the grass, Terezi still sitting on the rock, candy in her lap and on her dress, wings out behind her.

“Do you think he and I will be okay?” Dave spoke up after some time, after nearly half an hour had passed.

“Hmm? Sure, why not?” She gave a small smile, “If it’s meant to happen, why not? Fate’s a funny thing.”

“You believe in that shit?”

A pause, “You’d think I wouldn’t, right? Being a demon, being someone who could change someone’s fate? But the thing is…after living for centuries in a pit of flames, after experiencing the things I’ve experienced…doing the things I’ve done…you learn that there is some weird little red string pulling you along, commanding you to do certain things. You learn that people have got roles to play, things to do, people to see…Shit just happens.”

Dave let the message sink in, and sighed, “Yeah…Yeah, shit just happens.”

“Sometimes it just happens and you…can’t do anything about it. Sometimes you just have to do bad things and let it go.”

“How do you live with yourself, then? After those bad things are over and done with?”

Terezi was silent, her face’s happiness having evaporated within the span of a few minutes; slowly, she turned to Dave, a sad smile on her face,

“You don’t, Dave. You don’t live with yourself. You just live.”

---

They spent a few more hours at the river, talking, chatting, laughing; Dave spent some time thinking of ways on how to next best approach Karkat—and not give a direct apology per se (Because that is not the Strider Style ™ ) but to…soothe him. Smooth things over.

Start over.

By the time they returned to their ‘home base’—which, on this night, consisted of a small, abandoned house made of metal walls and a patchy roof of tiles and trees; moss had been growing on the roof, hinting that it had been abandoned for at least months—it was already night, and the stars were starting to come out shyly against the midnight-colored sky.

Though neither had seen Karkat since earlier that afternoon, they knew where he was—in the home. The house had a lonely little candle in it, and it was currently lit; it made sense that Karkat was inside the home, probably sleeping and waiting for the others to return.

Terezi had kept pace with the Strider boy for the entire walk back in silence, but she finally let out a sigh, stating,

“Unfortunately, Dave, this is where we have to part.”

“…Huh? What are you talking about? You just said a while ago we were almost at LOHAC, right?”

“…” Terezi frowned, stepping farther away from the human, so her back was to him.

“Terezi?”

“I’m sorry, Dave. But it was always meant to come to this.”

She swiftly turned to face the other, and reached into a tiny pocket of her dress, taking out a coin with a crack in one side; it was as if her hands needed to keep busy out of nerves, because Terezi immediately began flipping it.

“…What are you talking about?”

Flip. Flip.

“…Terezi?”

Flip. Flip.

“Yo, TZ, you’re starting to scare me. What’s going on?”

More silence and more coin flips, and Dave crossed his arms in irritation. He was nervous; he had never seen Terezi act like this as of now, and…

Wait.

What was that smell?

“I’m sorry.”

It…was that…oil?

“Terezi-“

“But some things are just meant to happen.”

…Was that a puddle of oil near the home?

“TEREZI!”

“And some people are just meant to die.”

Flip.

The coin sailed in the air behind Terezi, and her eyes did not even glance at it. It sailed, flying to the roof of the house…where it exploded into a shower of sparks and flames…

And instantly the house was engulfed in an inferno.

Dave’s mouth dropped open, and his blood froze in his veins—no, no, this had to be a nightmare.

“NO!” He charged, because, because… ”NO, KARKAT!”

But Terezi, eyes still trained on the ground, had her wings unfurl to their largest wingspan, and the gingham dress melted off her body. In its place, a red and teal outfit—teal pants and top, with a red vest and matching skirt and boots. And now, now that her true form was revealed, her wings were tinged with red lines, and on her back was the sign of the Threshecutioners—the Knights of Hell--a half circle and a line underneath.

She also pulled out her red cane and unfurled its weaponry—and the cane itself was no longer an ordinary one. It now had a dragon’s head on one end; a head that had not been there previously.

“NO, KARKAT. FUCK!”

“I’m sorry, Dave.” She stretched out her hands, stopping the boy with the sword point of her cane, the metal touching his neck, “I can’t let you go in there.”

Wide eyed, Dave spat out, “KARKAT WAS RIGHT! You lied! You were going to kill him this whole time. Shit, shit, SHIT!”

“I’m sorry that you have to have a second person’s blood on your hands, Dave. But it’s like I said…Some…Some things are meant to happen.”

Shaking, and watching the house burn, the Strider backed up, knees almost giving out on him…because she was right.

Karkat was in that home, and he was dying. He knew it. That light in the house had been off when they had left, and no one else would have—or did—turn it on.

He was asleep, choking on smoke, and burning up—and it was all Dave’s fault.

A flash of blood—of Bro’s blood—on his hands…

“No…No, no, I…”

This is all your fault, you know. He tried to tell you. He knew she was evil, that she was going to kill him…And you played right into her hands. You got him killed; it’s YOUR FAULT, YOU DOUCHE. YOU ASSHOLE. YOU SHOULD HAVE LISTENED TO HIM.

“Oh God, oh God…”

He fell to the ground, eyes tearing up as he stared at the house—Karkat was dying, in his sleep, surrounded by fire, and there was no way to get to him. Terezi would kill him, here and now, if he tried, and even though he knew he should try, just try, his courage was failing him.

“Why…? WHY?” Instead, he retaliated with words, “YOU COULD HAVE JUST LEFT HIM ALONE! YOU COULD HAVE JUST WALKED AWAY! YOU WERE GOING TO KILL HIM ALL ALONG!?”

“Yes.” It dropped, like a stone falling into a lake—heavy and loud. “I was planning to kill him once you two left that town, but then I realized how close you two were to become—and that you would defend him. You had a stake in this. So I had to change my strategy.”

“…You used me?”

She shrugged, “You’re a cool guy, Dave. I meant that sincerely. And in another life, all three of us could have been friends. But that was not this life.”

Panting, and teary-eyed, Dave continued, “All of that you said back there? About talking to him and shit…That…You were just saying shit, weren’t you? You were just playing with me, because you knew he was already good as dead.”

A tiny smile graced the Pyrope’s features, “I’m the Demon of Mind. Mind games are my specialty.”

“SHIT!” He pounded the dirt out of anger, “WHY!?”

“Because, Dave. I told you. It was meant to happen. I was charged—I was created—for this purpose.” There were tears in Terezi’s eyes now, her smile faltering, “Even if I had not wanted to do it—and a part of me didn’t—I still would have had to. This was meant to happen.”

“YOU DON’T KNOW THAT!” All traces of his cool-kid side gone, Dave found himself bellowing; Karkat was dead—dying?—and he had been used. He had no reason left to keep calm.

“I do. I…” A little sniffle, and Terezi looked away, “I’ve done a lot of horrible things, okay? This is who I am. And Karkat…He…He was born for this. He was born to have me kill him, and I’m glad. He’s going out in a less painful way. He’ll just die in his sleep, if we’re lucky.”

“But is this who you want to be!? YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE THIS. YOU CAN PUT THAT FIRE OUT.”

“No. I’m the one who started it. I was the one who tricked you into going into the forest hours ago, so I could sneak away and oil the house. I was the one who knew that Karkat was upset enough to start a fight with you—and also upset enough to where he wouldn’t notice the random puddles of oil on the house.”

Dave froze, letting out a growl of frustration, “This was all a game to you, wasn’t it? We were just pawns in this game for you!”

She shrugged again, “When you make painful things a game, they’re a bit less painful, and a bit more fun.”

“FUCK YOU!”

“I’m sorry.”

“NO YOU’RE NOT!”

A chuckle, “You’re right. A part of me isn’t. This is what I was born to do. To bring the New Messiah’s soul and essence to the Grand High Blood, who will burn the world. But I promise—you will be spared once we use his powers. I hold no ill-will against you, Dave.”

“Oh, but you held ‘ill-will’ against KARKAT?”

“No…Actually…” And here, a few tears escaped, “I was kind of developing a bit of a crush on the guy. “ At that, Terezi let out a deranged laugh, desperate and pained, “So I stuck by you. I figured if I kept my distance, I’d be able to kill him eventually. And I figured if I made you think I maybe had a crush on you, it’d give me an advantage in all this—and it did. It made him angry at you and I was able to…t-to use that rift to my advantage.”

“…Oh my God…I…” Dave sunk his head into his hands, letting out a whine of frustration; he had been a complete fool—and now Karkat was dead.

Forget showing his face to Rose and Kanaya (Oh, yeah, that was going to be a fan-fucking-tastic reunion, he could see it coming), he could never show his face anywhere.

He—he had been the one to get the New Messiah killed on his watch, by his own stupidity.

“…I’m sorry-“

“SHUT UP!”

There were tears on his face, and he angrily wiped them away. He was powerless—a powerless little kid, just like with Bro. He couldn’t travel back in time yet—only forwards. So there was no point in wishing none of this had ever happened, because that wish was just downright stupid.

Heaving with weariness and little hope, Dave got to his feet, staring at the home as it continued to burn; he hadn’t heard any screams yet, which meant that Karkat was probably still asleep…

So…

He ran…

Ran right into Terezi, and began screaming.

“KARKAT! KARKAT! KARKAT, WAKE UP! YOU GOTTA FUCKING WAKE UP! KARKAT!”

He kept screaming the other’s name, over and over. In waking hours, he had never said the other troll’s full name before, or at least not with this much passion, but now he was screaming it every second, with every breath, with the hope that maybe he would hear and wake up, and try and find a way out. Maybe he would tumble out in a ball of fire, and Dave could fight Terezi off and save him and-

“KARKAT!”

And something. Something would happen, and he could fix this, could fix Karkat, even if he couldn’t fix himself, and he could ask for forgiveness, finally, and he could work on this weird relationship-camaraderie because he would never wish him dead.

“KARKAT!”

And Dave didn’t care how long it would take, he would keep screaming until his voice went hoarse, until his tears ran out—he would keep doing it, because now, right now—

He was running out of time to be the stand-up guy Bro had taught him to be.

But if he kept screaming…

He might just get some of that time back.

And he did—eventually, a scream echoed out that answered his own.

---

“Do you trust me?”

“Fuck no. But I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

The human smiled, out-stretching a hand,

“Karkles, I promised I’d catch you if you fell.”

“KARKAT!”

The dream was becoming blurry…fizzing out, like a bad antenna on a television set…

“Yeah, yeah, but you never said we’d be in the air while doing it.”

“But I like surprises, baby doll. Don’t you?”

“KARKAT!”

“If you’re involved? Nope.”

“Then Kitten, you’re going to love this one-“

“KARKAT, PLEASE WAKE UP! PLEASE!”

His eyes shot open—and Karkat immediately realized he couldn’t breathe.

Flames were on all sides of him; black smoke filling up the entire one-roomed home, and the fearful scream he let out at the sight of his nest of hay and cloth burning was choked and blocked by the black smoke entering his lungs. Wheezing and coughing, the Vantas tried to stand, but immediately fell to the ground at the lack of breathable air—which resulted in his cloak catching on fire.

“SHIT—AGH!” Another cough, and the troll boy huffed and puffed—the sparks and smoke burned his eyes as he gazed around. The entire home was alight with flames, the one entrance blocked to the home blocked by a pillar of plumes. There were no windows, and when he pressed a hand to the walls, to see if they were weak enough for him to push away, his hand burned painfully—enough to where he fell and screamed again.

Fuck.

He was trapped inside. And if his ears were telling the truth, Dave was trapped—but trapped outside.

Wheezing in pain, he stared at the ceiling—he was going to die here.

“No…” Another cough, and this time, his pants were caught in the flames, the fabric burning through and his legs were starting to suffer because of it, if the whine he let out was any clue.

“No, no, no, FUCK NO!” His head whipped around, one last ditch effort of finding some sort of salvation, “Please…Please…Please someone help. PLEASE.”

He stared once more at the ceiling…And he failed to notice his necklace—the Sign of the Signless—rose midair, floating and levitating. Or, if he truly did notice it, his feeble mind believed it to be a hallucination caused by the fiery chaos around him.

It rose—and Karkat’s mind faded to black.

While his eyes turned a violent shade of red.

And though he was unable to see it, both Terezi and Dave saw it outside: a fiery red star began to grace the sky, falling across the dark expanse of the heavens.

A fiery red star that was no meteor.

But was instead the herald of the New Messiah. A herald that Kanaya saw miles and miles away, too.

A herald that screamed that he was awakened.

And that the fight was just beginning.

---

Dave’s screaming eventually gave out, and he collapsed to the ground—well, more like Terezi pushed him away, finally fed up with his trying to lure Karkat out of slumber, and he himself tired of tried, figuring it was hopeless by now.

…Until they both saw the bright red star streak across the sky.

And for the first time since the whole ordeal started, Dave saw something akin to fear come across Terezi’s expression.

“What the fuck was that?” Dave spat hoarsely after the shooting star vanished on the horizon.

“…No…” Was the only response he got, and he followed Terezi’s gaze towards the house—where a figure was emerging.

A figure cloaked in black. A figure that was walking through the flames and did not burn this time--not now, at least, for there were clearly burns on his exposed legs and hands and arms. A figure that walked as if the flames bowed to him instead.

A figure that was Karkat.

But it was also not completely Karkat.

It stood tall and proud, but was still the same body that had gone into the home hours ago.

But what struck Dave the most were his eyes—even in the brightness of the flames and the darkness of the night, the Strider boy could see that they were different.

Different as in the entire iris and pupil were a bright red sheen, and he was certain tiny dots—tiny little phosphorescent sparks—dotted out around them, outlined by the yellow background and the gray skin.

Silently, Karkat turned his head, hands reaching into the flames, and the fire curled around his appendages…until they formed a sickle shape, resting against his palms. With a blink of his orbs, the flames hardened, and his hands now held two red, pointy sickles that were eerily similar to that of a crab’s pincers.

And then he spoke…

Words came out of his mouth that Dave’s ears could not translate, and he immediately turned his head to Terezi.

“What the FUCK did he just say?! Was that Old Alternian?” His voice was hysterical, because of the shock of everything that was happening—Karkat was apparently alive, but now fucking magical; Terezi was apparently an evil-slash-misguided soul, and was looking absolutely terrified at the new development.

“He said…’Prepare to die. S-Sal…Salvation is here.’.” Her voice held a twang of sadness, but the thirteen year old wasn’t given any time to reflect on her inflection.

Because Karkat lunged at Terezi faster than he had ever seen—his movement was similar to—no exactly like—that of how the Strider’s brother had moved from spot to spot. In a blur of motion.

And he only had seconds to turn his head to gaze upon Karkat being in Terezi’s space, her cane clacking against the two red sickles. And Karkat was pushing her back, impossible strength resonating from his body, and Terezi’s heels were digging into the dirt as the other pushed with all his superior might.

He vanished again, body zooming this way and that, each time swinging at least one sickle, if not both; each time was faster and faster, and Terezi was barely keeping up with him. Each time cane and sickle met in a clash and clang of metal, and each time she let out a yelp of fear, barely stopping his blows—his strength was nothing but inhuman, and he had not had this strength hours ago.

This was not the regular Karkat—this was not Dave’s Karkat.

And Dave could only sit on the ground, watching them parry blows; at one point, he and the Vantas made eye contact, but it was as if the troll was not even seeing him—he was looking like through him.

They parried blows again, this time their faces merely centimeters apart, and if Karkat had been seeing, he would have witnessed teal tears falling from Terezi’s face, and fear plastered on every patch of skin on her face. But his eyes were gone, just like his mind, and his soul was focusing on something more important—something bigger than himself.

“I’m sorry…” The Pyrope whispered, clarity of certain death shining in her eyes while Karkat pushed his sickles against her sword; he did not respond, and instead jumped, feet slamming into Terezi’s chest and sending her falling back. Whereas normally she would have been able to stand and stay on her feet, the repeated attacks and blocking from the Vantas boy had worn her out, and she fell to the ground and landed on her bottom.

She was panting, and when Karkat stopped and marched over to her body and grabbed her by the front of the shirt, Terezi could only whimper; she would not beg for mercy—she wouldn’t receive it, and she knew, in her black soul, that she did not deserve it.

But she would try to block any and all oncoming punches and kicks—and try she did. But this speed was something she had not seen since the likes of Sollux and his nimble pirouettes and kicks, and it rivaled that of Aradia the Time Angel’s flight speed—Karkat moved with downright holy movements as he punched her, sending her into the air, and then kicking her back to the ground without missing a beat, his foot landing right in the center of the back, and Dave could have sworn he heard bones crack, if the startled scream from Terezi was any clue.

He was, in short, making her pay.

Karkat landed, feet right in front of Terezi’s head as the girl grasped for solace while lying on her stomach, hands clawing at the dirt; the male, with a quick hand, grabbed her front again, which was already spotted with blood, her face swelling. She had not been expecting a fight—not of this measure at least, but really, no fight at all—and she figured she could have easily kill Dave Strider or Karkat if they did decide to attack. Both were mortal, both were new with using weaponry (well, immature with weaponry, at least), and a demon had strength, had power. And though she was not as strong as others—not as strong as Eridan, not as strong as Sollux, or her Scourge Sister—she could still fight. But this? This had thrown her, quite literally.

She had had no idea that this had been coming. No one had warned her that the New Messiah would unlock his potential strength and his connections to the Spiritual World (to Heaven? Maybe so. To Dream Bubbles? Even more likely.) this early in the game. It was not supposed to happen. It was not supposed to happen this early…right?

“Who…Who are you?” She croaked as Karkat lifted her up again, because she had to know. She had to know what source was taking control of the red-blooded male, and what gave him this superior strength and speed and action.

Karkat merely blinked, mouth a thin line that almost twitched into a smile, and it was then that she knew. She knew who this was.

It was Karkat—with his father’s spirit inside along for the ride.

“No…But…You’re dead. You’re gone. You’re s-some…somewhere else.”

He spoke, in Old Alternian, as a reply, but she clearly translated it in her mind,

“Death is never an end. I come when I am needed by my son.”

“I-I thought you were living in the dream bubbles…”

“I am. But I still come when he needs me. No one warned you of this?”

Behind cracked glasses, Terezi’s eyes merely widened—indeed, no one had warned her of this.

Because no one else in Hell knew.

But Terezi did not have time to let out a scream, or reply and question further—because Karkat’s hand moved, and a sickle's blade slid across her throat, cutting it open.

A sputter, a stutter, came from her lips as teal blood sprayed out in waves, and the Pyrope girl moved her hands to her neck, trying to stop the gushing life fluids, even as it continued to flow and stain her hands. Her lungs were burning, her body shaking and wheezing, and she knew this was it—she was going to die here.

With blank eyes, Karkat stood above her, but he sighed, and after slowly closing his eyes for a moment, and opening them again, the boy spoke—not the man.

“I’m…sorry too.”

His voice was hollow, tired, and he was still in there, and Terezi found herself crying just a bit more, but smiling all the same; she could not speak, but if she could have, she would have said: “Shit just happens, yeah?”

Instead, she coughed again, teal dots and splotches coming up to coat her mouth and cheek—there was no way to recover from this…Not here, anyways, and she couldn’t-…Or could she?

Well.

There was one option.

Slowly, the demon closed her eyes, her body thrumming with the last of her energy, the sigil of the Mind appearing in a soft, dying light upon her forehead.

Scourge Sister…I’m dying…

Come find me…Please…So we can regroup…

I have…I have failed in my task, but…

Please…Roll the dice and save me…

She knew Vriska would not just come and save her. That was not how things worked in Hell, and that was not how things worked with Vriska Serket. She would roll her dice, and see if they would determine if she was worthy of being saved. It was just how things were.

And down in the pits of Tartarus, a blue-blood girl did smile, getting the message clear in her mind through telepathy; and her nimble fingers threw eight dice into the air, eight pupils watching them dance.

One by one, they fell, while on the surface Terezi finally closed her eyes, her blood starting to still, her breathing slowing; and soon enough the last dice fell.

“Naptime. Aren’t you lucky, Terezi? I guess you get another chance.” The girl cackled from below as Terezi slipped into unconsciousness—just as a blue net appeared around her form, entangling itself in her broken and beaten limbs. A soft blue powder coated her body, having her drift off into a dreamless sleep—a coma that would suspend her death until she reached Hell. And she did not have long to wait, because the net vanished in a flash of blue light.

Karkat watched her go impassively—both Vantas males knew that she was to get away, but just by the skin of her teeth, and she would never be the same from this battle.

Slowly, the fires on the house died out at the loss of the demon whom had conjured them, and Dave finally stood, slowly walking towards the other.

“…Karkat?”

The other said nothing, and instead gazed at the other with still-red eyes and pupils, his face blank of all emotion.

“Karkat? It’s me. Hey.” Gently, the Strider reached out and shook the other through a touch in his arm, but it still did not stir the other into reality, “It’s over, man. C-Come on, it’s over.”

He did not talk any more, but kept his hold on the small troll; after a minute, Karkat looked away, letting out a shaky breath, head falling down to stare at the ground; and once again lifted his head afterwards—and his eyes were once again normal.

“Heh…G-Gave me quite a scare there, man. I thought I’d lost you-“

SLAP.

Right across Dave’s face, Karkat’s hand trailed a sting-filled path, but he was kind enough to avoid using claws.

“Maybe next time you’ll fucking listen to me, huh, jackass?” The boy snarled, drawing his hand back while gazing at the other with fearsome eyes.

“…” Dave said nothing, and continued to face away from the other; slowly, though, he lifted his head while his hand caressed his wounded face, and though his shades hid his eyes, the despair was clear on his face—brows were drawn together, his mouth in a small “o” of trepidation.

“…I thought you were dead.” But it was his voice that was the clear sign—full of sorrow, full of emotion.

“…So did I.”

“Karkat, man, listen, I’m sorry. I fucked up so bad,” It was like Dave’s mouth was a faucet, turned on now because of the bedlam that had happened before his eyes, “Striders rarely fuck up but when we do, it’s usually really bad, and I’m sorry, and I-“

“Oh, just save it.” Karkat sighed, “She got both of us, okay?”

The blond could only give a half smile as they gazed at each other after that question, while Karkat shrugged, gazing at his hands.

“Shit, I’ve got a lot of bad burns on me. Do you think we have—THE HELL?!”

But he never got to finish his question—Dave had flung himself at him.

Lean arms were around his gray frame, and the Strider was pulling him close—he was hugging him.

“…S-Strider, man, what the hell?”

But Dave said nothing, and instead buried his face in Karkat’s shoulder, holding him tightly—his face hidden because Striders did not cry.

“Geeze, I’m okay. Man, you’re starting to scare me.” Karkat grumbled, arms flailing about a bit, unsure of what to do—until he rested them on Dave’s back with the lightest of touches.

“Dave, seriously…I’m okay. We’re okay. We’ve got more important things to worry about, alright?”

A pause, then a strangled voice came from Dave, “Y-Yeah. Fuck yeah, man, I know. I just…Can’t a guy hug another guy without it being weird? S’not like I’m grabbing your little perky ass or something.”

“My little perk what?"

“Nothing.”

Karkat just rolled his eyes, sighed, and patted—not rubbed, he most certainly did not rub—Dave’s back. “Look, we’re fine, okay? Sheesh, stop being a wriggler about it, okay?”

“Sure you’re not gonna kill me in my sleep?” Dave questioned after clearing his throat, and lifting his head from the other’s shoulder.

“Nah. I’ll leave that for the demons to do.”

“Wow. What a price charming you are, Kitten.”

Slowly, they parted from the hug, Dave giving the guy one last friendly grip with his hands on Karkat’s arms, all the while being thankful for his shades.

“So, where to now, then?”

“Land of Heat and Clockwork. We’ve got about a day before we get there.”

“Right…Right.” And they thus began walking, “Let’s get somewhere safer and look at your hands and legs, got it? I don’t want my precious Kitten walking around with burns, heh.”

“You call me a kitten again and I’ll slice open your jugular, you nooksucker.”

“Woah, hey now, after seeing what you did to Terezi, that’s a scary threat. By the way, what exactly happened back there?”

Karkat shrugged as he fixed his cloak, ignoring the burn holes for the time being, “Not sure. Most of it’s a fucking blur, unfortunately. I…wasn’t all there. Anyway, come on. We’ve got things to do.”

And for the rest of the night, they camped out a mile away from the burned out home and the dried, teal blood; Dave, without even asking for permission, bandaged and healed Karkat’s burns with the supplies they had, which only turned out to be the actual bandages themselves. He instead had to use water from the lake they camped at (which was nearly dried up due to the increasing heat and proximity to LOHAC) to soothe the burns, even if Karkat hissed like a wild animal during the whole ordeal.

And few words were spoken between them, but words, at this point, were unneeded. They were tired, worn out, and both knew that they had to learn to trust one another again, even it was going to take some time. Or, truthfully, they had to learn to trust each other for the first time.

And there was no need for them to sleep in separate tents for the time being—especially after all that.

And there was no need for Dave to tell Karkat that he woke up in a cold sweat during the night, having another nightmare—another vision—of a timeline where Terezi had succeeded in killing the other, by slicing his throat from behind while Dave had spoken with him on friendlier—much, much friendlier—terms.

And there was no need for Dave to tell him of the tears that had come from the sight of another dead Karkat in his arms; nor was there a need to explain later that morning in a truthful way why he was cuddled closer to the other, out of fear and protection.

There was just no need for certain things anymore in general, was there?

---

“Thank you for helping with my Mother, again. She will appreciate the grave you gave her.” Kanaya spoke up as she packed the last of her bags in the Temple of Light. They had spent almost a week at the temple after burying the Mother Grub in the Garden of Light—the garden and cemetery for the church had been completely ruined in the meteor onslaught so they had taken the lusus’ corpse with them on the walk to the Temple for a proper ceremony.

“Of course. It was my pleasure, Kanaya.” Rose spoke softly, fixing up her own pouch around her waist, and making sure her sylladex was complete with all the necessary provisions.

Kanaya merely nodded at her, smile faltering as she gazed down at the red dress she was packing.

Red.

Like the shooting star they had seen last night in the center of the Temple, where Rose had meditated for some time.

“You are troubled with thoughts of Karkat?”

“O-Oh!” Kanaya jumped in a startled fashion when the human girl touched her shoulder, “It’s just…that star. I-I know what it means and…and I never had time to tell him. I didn't have enough time to explain what is going to happen to his body, or what could happen, and-“

“Hush.” Rose spoke, rubbing the other’s back, “You did all you could. Once we catch up to them, you can explain.”

“But if the star has already fallen, it means he has already established a connection with the Spiritual World, with—what did you call them? Dream Bubbles? We never spoke of It like that.”

Purple eyes sparkled with mirth, “That is what we call them, yes. But is it so horrible that Karkat has already started on the road to maturity?”

“…N-No, but…I do not know what it will do to him. He will have a connection with the Signless for the rest of his life, now. However…However long that is meant to be.”

“Kanaya, your worry is understandable, but we cannot completely focus on it. We have to have faith that whatever will happen will happen for a good reason.”

“But you have already seen what is to happen! You know the best ways to go about things, right?”

“Not necessarily. I know the Most Fortuitous Path, and my religion has given me some insight into what will happen, but I do not know everything.”

“But then what do you know? Can you not tell me?” Kanaya pleaded as she held her dress in her hands.

“No. I cannot. Because if I tell you, the Path may change, and we may experience a whole other set of circumstances. I cannot take that chance. You just must have faith in Karkat…and Dave.”

Kanaya swooshed around, returning to her things at the mention of the other human’s name, “If that boy does anything to Karkat, I will chop off his legs and feed them to fish.”

The Lalonde girl let out a giggle, “Don’t worry. Dave knows to keep his hands to himself.”

“He better. He underestimates this ‘troll girl’, hmph.”

They left a few moments afterwards, the sun high in the sky on this bright, new morning…

But Kanaya paused as they stepped out into the woods behind the Temple; they were to follow a similar path to the boys, but they were going to stop in some major cities, for there was need for them to completely hide all the time. But here, in the abandoned and containing-no-population woods, she felt…off.

“What is it?”

“…I feel we are being watched. Perhaps it is just my paranoia, though…” The jade-blood whispered as she gazed around the trees that reached up towards the sky, greenery sparkling in the sun.

“Perhaps. Come, let’s get going.” Rose smiled and tugged at the other troll’s hand, causing the taller one to blush a light shade of green—and a light shade of happiness, too.

But the Maryam woman had not been wrong—they were being watched.

And as they rounded a corner, violet eyes watched them go, as purple and blue sneakered feet floated above the ground, and as purple wings made of leather and dust, shaped like those of a bat, stood out behind the creature hidden in the trees.

He watched them go, not making a move, merely smiling to himself as he pulled his dark purple and black cloak and cape closer to his body, the hood sliding over his head and horns.

After all, a hunter never attacked the prey the first time they saw them.

They trailed behind them…and watched.

And then pounced.

When the time was absolutely, one-hundred percent, right.

And as the Demon of Destroyed Hope, Eridan Ampora always, always knew when the time was right:

It was when they least suspected death was coming.

Chapter Text

Four

Blessed Be the Mechanics

It took another day and a half to reach LOHAC, and for the entire time, the world around them was descending into heat and darkness. The sun this far south was only alight for a few hours of the day, and the closer they got to the open-wide, lava-drenched wasteland, it became darker and darker. Karkat had managed to salvage the one candle from the burnt-out house he had nearly perished in, and it was used to light their way through tough terrain.

The heat was also overbearing, and water was a precious commodity; both boys were grateful that they had been able to stock up on water before getting further and further into the heat. They had also managed to shower, but (according to Karkat) it did not do much good, because as they got closer, Dave was “starting to really fucking smell”. But that was probably just him being ornery.

And once that half a day passed, they crested a hill—and below, stretching for approximately ten miles—was the Land of Heat and Clockwork. A badlands that had existed since Alternia had been created in the Universe; a wilderness that was harsh lava, and ancient metal and gears sprinkled out like candies, said to have been created by extinct species of creatures from eons before. A golden, amber tower stretched out miles down the road, while steel ladders and structures stood out against the blackened sky. No stars shone here, or if they did, the brightness of the lava and flames made them invisible to the naked eye.

And the heat—at this point it was unbearable, but neither could do anything about it but complain.

“Man, why does Kanaya want us to go through this shit? Can’t we just go around it?” Dave questioned as he wiped his brow, Karkat just snorting in return.

“She said we needed to go through here because no one would follow us. We’re in the middle of fuck-all-nowhere, and away from civilization. No one should be here and this should be easy to pass through.”

Deftly, the Vantas boy began unbuttoning his cloak, causing the other to smirk.

“Oh, Kitten, if you were going to do a strip show—Mmph!”

And was promptly shut up by Karkat throwing said cloak at his face.

“Shut your windhole. I’m taking off the cloak so it doesn’t catch on fire in case we get too close to that, oh, I don’t know, burning and deadly lava. Besides, it’s already ruined, anyway.”

“I’m sure your Daddy won’t care you got a few holes in it. Dead, ain’t he?”

“Oh, haha.” The other retorted, captchaloging the item away after he had yanked it out of the other's hands, “Very funny. Now move it, Strider.”

“Vantas, you know you should take it easy, right?” The Strider asked as they strode quickly down the hill, and Karkat made his way to the first metal structure, gripping the bar and meaning to climb it.

“Excuse me?”

“Look at yourself, man. You just got out of a fire pit of burning hate and you’re all gung-ho to climb and jump around. There’s no rush, and I think you can take the opportunity to slow down just a bit.” Dave came to stand next to him, hopping up onto the metal poles easily, with practice of climbing and jumping buried in his young bones.

Karkat merely blinked at the other, and climbed, ignoring the bandages tightly wound around his hands and parts of his right and left legs, hidden underneath his ruined pants that were now quite full of holes, “I don’t have the luxury of slowing down, Strider. Besides, they don’t hurt that much anymore.”

“Do I look like a moron to you?” Dave quipped, climbing next to the other up the tower, “You were whimpering about them earlier!”

“So?! They were just a—a little sore! It’s not a big fucking deal, so just drop it!” Karkat tried to keep his tone even, but it was difficult; the metal they scaled was not hot, and certainly not burning, but the touch of metal against his pink and white burns was aggravating, and he found his movements slowing down.

“…” Dave stared, the images of Karkat still in that home burning behind his retinas; he hesitated but for a moment, until reaching over and grabbing the troll’s arm to cease his movements, and thus let go, offering a hand instead, “Get on me.”

“…What?”

“I think I can hold your weight. Slide over here and I’ll carry you up.”

“Oh, fuck no! I don’t need your help or pity, Strider!”

“It’s not pity, Kitten. But your hands are shaking on the bars, and if you keep this up, you’re going to fall. And I’d prefer not to have flambéed Karkat for dinner tonight. Now come on.” Dave stretched out his hand, face impassive but voice determined all the same.

Karkat snarled, more to himself than the human, and more out of frustration than anger, and relented, sidling over to the Strider, and gingerly taking his hand.

“There, come on…Wrap your legs around me, arms around my neck.”

“We are never speaking about this again, you hear me?”

Dave grunted in assent, getting used to the weight of the other wrapped around him once Karkat was in a comfortable position; he had underestimated how heavy the troll actually was, but his weight was still not too heavy a burden. And he thus began to ascend the tower, Karkat settling in, head resting against the back of Dave’s, holding on tightly.

“T-This doesn’t mean I can’t fight, you know. If we need to.”

The albino child let out a chuckle at that, “Of course, Kitten. The big, strong warrior that you are never ceases to amaze me.”

“Oh, fuck you. Kanaya gave me weapons for a reason.”

“Uh-huh. But Kanaya didn’t expect you to ruin your hands by touching a burning wall—which, wow, when you think about it, was a pretty stupid move on your part.”

Another growl, “If we weren’t on the side of this fucking tower keeping us in the air and alive, I’d rip your nose off.”

“Oh, just shut up. I could’ve left you back there, you know,” Dave smirked as they ascended quickly, almost at the top, “But I’m-“

“Such a fucking chivalrous knight, I know. God, just shut up.”

After the human let out another chortle, they continued on their way, finally making it to the top of the structure; Dave hurriedly ran across it, jumping to the next one (despite Karkat screaming like a banshee the entire way, and squeezing just a bit tighter, for dear life), and then jumping to a third, climbing that one’s steel-poled wall like a junior acrobat. Which, of course, he was.

“Jegus fucking Christ, were the defying-gravity tricks REALLY NECESSARY?”

“How else did you expect me to get to it, Kitten?” Dave paused to look over his shoulder at the other, “Besides, we made it, didn’t we?” A grunt, then, “Man, I gotta ask. Why don’t you weight much at all? Granted, you ain’t skinny, but…”

The Vantas sighed, “What do you expect? I don’t eat a lot, because we never had a lot to eat. Plus, I think I’ve got a bit of a fast troll metabolism, or whatever it is you humans call it.”

“Yeah, that’s it…What do you mean you’ve never had a lot to eat? The nuns didn’t feed you?”

“Of course they fucking fed me…But we're church. Any money we receive—most of the money we receive—goes to the poor people, not us. If we got a hundred boondollars, for example, we only kept five dollars of that for the actual church, and only a few of that for ourselves and our personal needs.”

“But why?”

“What a stupid question,” Karkat snorted, “Because we actually strive on being honest, dipshit. Those megachurches nowadays keep all of it for themselves. Besides, it wasn’t that bad. The Sisters made their own food all the time, so we just really needed fresh ingredients, some of which we grew ourselves. So it was good food, we were just…poor. And didn’t eat much of it. Besides, Kanaya earned money on the side secretly—she liked to sing, so sometimes she did it in the square with the kids, and she’d earn some change.”

Dave came to a pause on the side of the large building, hands gripping the pipes and poles as sturdily as possible, “What a minute…How is she going to give me a million boondollars, then?”

Karkat did not reply, and instead chose to remain silent; but Dave was having none of that.

“Karkat…How is she going to give me a million boonbucks?”

“She’ll probably sell the church. Or when we get donations, it all goes to you.” Karkat muttered, voice flat.

“…Oh.”

“She told you that we didn’t have much money!”

“Hey, no, all she said that you guys didn’t have millions of dollars-“

“And what did you expect!? We’re a church! We give that money to the Capital’s citizens, and that’s it, and we get by on what we can salvage and scrape together.”

“So if I take that money…you’ll starve. Is that right?”

“I don’t fucking know. You’re the one who is the mercenary asking for money from a church. God willing I’ll be dead by then after all this bullshit, and who knows, Kanaya may have moved in with Rose so you can have the entire church or whatever. It’s not my problem, it’s yours.”

Dave remained silent, letting out a soft sigh, and continued to climb, finally reaching the third tower.

They traveled again for some time, jumping and climbing, climbing and jumping, from one metal tower to another; some were made of copper, the majority made of steel. Some had flat roofs that were easy to run across and jump from, Dave sailing through the air while Karkat gripped him tight each time. Others had slanted tops, and it took more finesse from the Strider to achieve success on these. At one time, he nearly fell, resulting in a screaming Karkat,

“SHIT, SHIT! GRAB SOMETHING! GRAB SOMETHING!"

They were sliding down the incline, and Dave’s slipper-covered feet moved quickly to the left, hidden eyes seeing a lone rope dangling above from a pulley on the structure; his hands quickly caught it, but it rope lengthened, continuing to grow as the boys continued to slide. Dave let out a yelp, Karkat a scream, and both teetered off the edge of the building, Dave still holding onto the rope, and both were left hanging there, the rope finally having run out of itself.

“…Oh fucking hell that was entirely unnecessary…”

“You’re telling me, man.”

“So…Uh.”

"Yeah.”

They hung there for a moment, dangling above a pool of lava that was bubbling like stew, Karkat clinging tighter, and Dave could have sworn he heard a fearful whimper—okay, he was sure of that.

“Hey, hey…I’ve got you. We’ll get out of here, promise.”

“What did I tell you about making promises you can’t keep, Strider?” Karkat pouted, hiding his face in Dave’s hair.

“Who said I wasn’t gonna keep this one? Gimme a sec.” The thirteen year old gazed about at his surroundings; the nearest tower was too far away, and they certainly would not have made that jump. There were also gray gears floating in the lava…but they too were too far to reach.

“Hey. Didn’t the gears in this place always exist in rows?” The Strider nodded towards the pieces of metal, noticing how they were all about in a row, stretching into the distance. The nearest gear floated heavily in the lava…but then there was an open space right below their feet—as if a gear used to exist there. There was also one behind them, but too far away to reach.

“Usually. From what I read, they never sunk until they were really old, so I don’t know why one’s missing. Why? What are you planning?”

“Something that might need a kiss for good luck?” Dave titled his head back, leaning towards Karkat with a smirk; the troll just gave him a glare, the human holding his gaze for a minute, before turning away, “Right, no good-luck kiss, such a pity I can’t kiss that mouth that hasn’t had clean teeth in days.”

“Not my fault I forgot to ask for fucking toothbrushes when the world was ending, Strider. Now what are you-“

“Shush, Kitten, gotta concentrate.”

Dave move his left hand, and proceeded to let go of the rope, causing Karkat to let out a nervous screech until the human's right hand held onto it more securely; carefully, his free appendage stretched out, palm facing the open lava.

He was not going to mention to the clinging troll that he was fairly certain this wasn’t going to work; but then again, there was a very good chance it would, too. It was not as if he was bodily going to travel back in time, something he knew he was incapable of doing. And it should not be as tiring as bodily traveling forward in time by a few minutes or so. So what was the harm?

The human let out a soft breath, eyes closing behind his shades; his extended hand glowed and sparked right light, until the red glow began to form into the symbol he was most associated with—the black, white and red disc with red gears on its edges; a minor, pained noise escaped from Dave’s throat, and the light shot to the ground, into the lava, and though it should not have physically moved the liquid below their feet, it did, the red and orange and yellow liquid splashing and sloshing around.

“What-“

“SHUSH.” Dave ground out, the light no longer on his hand, though the appendage still sparked; but the large pool below their feet glowed, and was encased in the material that had shot from Dave’s hand, “I-I’m going back in time—that gear-“

His sentence was jumbled, but the troll understood—he was going back through the years to see when that gear—the gear that should be there to land on—was still on the surface. Everything else was in the present, but that small, glowing area was changing.

Or it should have been. Dave continually moved his left hand to the left, listing off numbers aloud as sheen of sweat coated his brow, and no visible change was apparent.

“…Four…Five…Shit…I-I mean six…”

But then Karkat began to notice small changes—little rocks in the lava began appearing, rising out of the lava, rising up from where they had sunk. Bubbles popped and appeared and popped as Dave continued on,

“Ten…”

He was counting off not months—but years. It was clear on his face, which was strained and veined, and all Karkat do was admire his inner strength, the changes below his feet, and gently squeeze the other with his arms, a friendly gesture neither was used to. But Karkat believed the other needed it; by now, Dave’s body was shaking, sweating, his voice growing hoarser with each wave of his hand, with each year that circular section of lava went back in time.

“You’re…uh…You’re doing good…”

“Thanks, heh…” It was breathy, and neither had to mention it was the first time Karkat had ever complemented the other, “E-Eleven…”

“How far do you think you can go?”

“Uhn…Don’t know, Kitten.”

“You’re not going to die, are you?”

“Hah…N-No, nah, just…Ugh…Twelve…” Another swoosh of his hand, and no gear, “Jesus Christ, how long has this thing been buried?”

“…Guess I should’ve picked another way to go, huh?” Karkat muttered, and Dave found the minimal strength to shrug,

“Don’t blame yourself…Thirteen…A-And no, I can’t die yet, man. This shit just tires me out…Can’t die a yet, still a virgin, blah, blah, blah.”

A blank face from the Vantas boy, and a snort right afterwards, “Right. It also makes you babble. I didn’t need to know that you’re a virgin.”

“…Didn’t mean to say that, either.”

Dave sucked in a breath, and swiped his hand one more time—and half of the gear appeared, just like that, in the lava below, like an image on a television screen that had exploded from static.

“F-Fuck yes!” Dave cheered, tiredly, “That’s a start. O-Okay, let’s see…”

Gingerly, he stretched out his fingers, and curled his pointer appendage inward, towards himself, repeatedly, counting off, starting with one—he was now going back by months, and with each number, the gear slowly rose out of the lava below.

“Five…Six…There!”

Finally, it was fully visible, floating perfectly on the lava below them.

“T-That was awesome!” Karkat’s eyes were wide with childish wonder, his voice quite sincere; though Dave talked a tough game, and maybe was not the best with people or his powers overall, he was still a Knight of Time, a type of person Karkat had never encountered in all his days. And though he was inexperienced, here he was, still trying his best, and still succeeding.

“Thanks, it wasn’t a big deal.” Dave smirked, while panting, and both knew that was a lie—but Karkat did not call him out on it.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, I get it--…Strider?”

The human had gone quiet, his head hanging, his breathing steadying out, but in a worrisome fashion; it took a few seconds, but Karkat soon heard it—a soft statement from the other,

“Sorry. Hang on to me.”

“What—AGH!”

Karkat screamed, Dave’s hand on the rope falling, and the boys plummeted to the ground; the red-blooded troll clung to the human, who had evidently passed out; thankfully, the fall was not extremely long, and they tumbled onto the gear with loud whumps.

“AGH, shit…Strider?” Karkat had landed on his back, arms finally loosening from Dave, who had landed on his side without a word, arms flung out in front of his body.

“…Shit, Strider? STRIDER!" Karkat, a bit sore from the fall, but in overall okay shape, moved and turned the human onto his back, shaking him carefully, fearing that he was already internally injured from the strain of his powers, and the fall, “Come on, you fuckwipe, wake up! NOW!”

There was still no response, and Karkat growled, “I’m not fucking kissing you to wake up, so GET UP! COME ON!” and the Vantas found himself nervously whimpering—that is, until Dave made his own whimper, of pain.

“Nnh…” His face twitched in an injured fashion, eyebrows crinkling, and soon enough, Dave’s eyes were opening, shades still perfectly on his face and hiding them, but it was still clear to the other that he was fully awake.

“…Dave?”

“Mmn? Hey."

It took the Strider a second—but then he was smiling.

“Did you just call me ‘Dave’?”

And that was why.

"E-Excuse me?” The troll sputtered, kneeling above the other, knees on either side of his abdomen and hips, and though he would deny it later, he flushed just a bit pink at the other’s question, and the following statement that came forward:

“You were worried about me. Oh, Karkat, I’m flattered, babe.”

“OF COURSE I WAS FUCKING WORRIED! WE JUST FELL OUT OF THE FUCKING SKY WITH BARELY ANY WARNING BECAUSE YOU PASSED OUT!”

“Uh-huh.”

“STOP SMILING AT ME LIKE THAT. IT’S ATROCIOUS!”

But Dave’s expression did not change, and Karkat let out an angry screech, climbing off of Dave, who just let out a tired laugh.

“I’m fine, man. I told you I wasn’t going to die. I’m just fatigued, give me a minute, ‘kay?”

Karkat grunted, and, after stomping around the gear for a moment, came to sit next to the other,

“That…was still pretty cool. What you did. I mean, you actually sent this…back in time. O-Or the space around it, or-…Fuck, I don’t know how the mechanics work.”

“Don’t need to. You get it, I did it, s’all that matters.” Dave let out another breath, and then turned his head fully towards the other, “Are you alright, though? Shit, I shouldn’t have passed out like that. What if you had rolled right off the thing, or fallen into…well.”

“Now who’s fucking worrying?” Karkat snorted, and he could not help the small smirk that came to his face, “I’m fine, Strider. Really. You did good.”

The response Karkat got was a waggle of eyebrows, “I think I could do more “good” if you called me 'Dave' again—HEY!”

But it was not an exclamation of pain or anger—but of laughter. Karkat had tackled the human onto his back, pinning his hands with a growl and his teeth clicking in a furious, perturbed manner, but it only made Dave laugh more—possibly because of the adrenaline high he had just experienced, or maybe due to the fact that he was just glad to be alive.

“God, will you ever stop PISSING ME OFF?”

“Hahaha, probably not!”

The Vantas snarled, and for a moment, the teenager was expecting a slap…but none came. Instead, Karkat’s face softened, and their eyes met, even from behind the other’s shades, and both knew what had just happened:

They trusted one another again.

Karkat was trusting Dave again to keep him safe; he had trusted him to keep him safe as they climbed, he had listened to his command to hold on and encouraged him to keep going.

He was subconsciously (and, now consciously) trusting him.

And Dave realized that everything he had done—every movement of his legs, of his hands, of his abilities—had been about Karkat. He had not even been thinking about his own body’s protection as he fell, and had instead ordered Karkat to stay close to him, hold on tight, and hopefully land safe. And he had trusted him, too. Trusted the Vantas to not throw him into the lava while he was unconscious.

And Karkat cared—for all his anger, for all his hatred and tears—he cared about him. Even if the troll was hesitant to admit it.

He had been in awe of something Dave had done—genuine awe—and when was the last time someone truly admired a Strider, let alone Dave, who was nothing compared to the other two?

Silently, they lied and sat there, staring at one another, until Dave had the grace enough to clear his throat, and Karkat felt enough heated shame on his face—he had been staring, for Christ’s sake—to get up and look away.

“So, uh. You need to rest, right? That wore you out, right?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Dave—I mean, Strider, come on.” Karkat huffed as the human stood slowly, stretching his muscles, “You bitch at me for not wanting to slow down, at least let me return the favor.”

“Seriously, man, I’m fine. Nothing like a good temporary blackout to make you feel like a new man, right?”

The deadpan look the troll gave the human was answer enough.

“Right, okay,” Dave clapped his hands together, going towards the edge of the gear, “Looks like we’ve gotta go down the line. Simple enough?”

“Maybe to you. You really think I can jump from gear to gear? Do I look like Troll Usain Bolt to you?”

Dave glanced down at the other’s legs, shrugging, “Guess not, huh. You are kind of short. And a bit…stumpy. And Usain Bolt is a long-distance sprinter, not a hurdle-jumper.”

“Do the details of Troll Usain Bolt’s lifestyle really fucking matter at this point, asshole?” Karkat sighed, head falling back in exasperation, “Come on, we need to think of something. Maybe you can jump those—maybe—but I sure as hell can’t. And I really doubt you can, either. Your legs aren’t exactly worthy of that.”

“Whoah, don't diss my legs, Vantas. But...Hmm…” Silently, Dave measured the distances in his mind, unconsciously kicking at the gear he stood on, pebbles falling into the lava below.

It took a moment or so, a moment of Karkat huffing in exasperation, and Dave looking at the bottom of his shoes, before an idea struck him.

“I’ve got it. Kitten, come here. I’ll get you safely across.”

---

Of course, when Karkat had heard that he would get safely across, he hoped it was a logical plan.

There was nothing logical about being carried bridal style, while Dave’s feet levitated off the ground with floating Time-Bomb devices strapped to them, the duo still standing on the original gear they had landed on.

“I still don’t get it. What the fuck are you doing?”

“Simple, really,” A pompous and brimming-with-success-at-his-genius Dave spoke, “The Time Bombs I carry on me always float, right? So why not strap them to my feet? And they won’t blow up unless I say so, so everything’s good.

“So you won’t pass out again while carrying me?” Karkat snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Of course not, Kitten. I’ll be able to make the jumps now, because I’ll float at the end of them so we can reach each gear.”

“…Okay. I guess that makes some fucking sense, what a miracle.” Karkat snorted, “But, and here’s a good question: WHY THE HELL ARE YOU CARRYING ME LIKE THIS? YOU JUST THINK YOU CAN SWOOP IN TO A GUY’S PERSONAL SPACE, PICK HIM UP LIKE A HUMAN WIFE, AND HOLD AND CARRY HIM LIKE THIS?”

With a bluntness that was unprecedented, Dave glanced at the other, speaking and not smiling, “Yes.”

“SCREW YOU.”

“You’re the human wife in the situation, so I’m pretty sure you’d the one who would be-“

“If you finish that sentence-“

“You never let me finish a sentence, actually, and it’s kind of annoying, Vantas.”

“YOU are the one who keeps saying asinine, idiotic things that make me want to vomit from my nutrition-container and throw waste from my waste-chute at you! YOU, good sir, are the one who—AGH! OH SHIT, SHIT!”

Dave had, instead of letting the other finish his sentence, realized he could be smarter by running from his current gear, and jumping to the next; the shock of being off the air caused Karkat to shriek and cling tighter, and even bury his head in the other’s shoulder out of shock.

But the Strider’s trick worked, which caused them both to be relieved—after being in the air for a few seconds, the discs underneath his feet whirling and humming with power, he glided towards the ground, and though a normal jump would have had ended with him in the lava, his feet levitated off the burning pool and he was able to move onto the second gear easily, the flotation devices doing their job.

“…WARN A TROLL NEXT TIME, ASSHOLE!”

“I said I’d keep you safe, didn’t I?”

“BY JUMPING OFF A GEAR WITHOUT WARNING ME? OH YEAH, I FEEL SO SAFE.”

“You were, weren’t you? You just hung on a bit tighter to your heroic knight.” Dave did nothing to hide his smirk, and Karkat merely growled, and looked away.

“Just keep going, then. Like I give a shit.”

And go he did—The human hopped and skipped from gear to gear, running quickly now that his energy was returning; adrenaline and testosterone (the latter probably due to carrying Karkat, but hey, no one needed to know that, right?) were pumping through his veins, his genius was powerful and mighty, nothing could stop him or falter his steps-

“Hey. Thanks.”

Except maybe a quiet compliment from the Vantas boy, whose face was hidden in Dave’s neck; when the words reached his ears, the human nearly lost his step, faltering on the edge of a gear he had just landed on.

“Uh. What?”

“For…not being a little shit and helping me out here. I know I’m pretty fucking useless right now.”

“Useless? Please. Your anger is a pretty good joke and makes me smile, and that’s a useful thing, right?”

A pause, “…I don’t know whether to be insulted or feel complimented. Damn it.” Karkat huffed, straightening his body so he could get a better look at Dave, “But…really…”

“Are you going soft on me, Vantas? Really? We haven’t even had a death-defying moment on a mountaintop yet and you’re already confessing your undying kindness and like for me? I’m touched. My game is usually on target but damn, never this good. I mean, you’re actually changing your tone and thanking me, and realizing I’m greatness. Maybe it’s one of those Christmas Eve miracles they talk about. ”

“…One, I’m not even going to bother stating every single fucking thing that is wrong with what you just said,” Karkat replied with, as Dave made another jump to another gear, “Second, it’s nowhere near Twelfth Perigee’s Eve, so you’re just being an idiot there. Third…Actually, I don’t have a third point, but that’s not the point, fuckwad.”

“Mmhm. Noted.”

“By the way, let me know when you need to stop. This thing goes on for miles, you know…”

“Pfft. Yeah, don’t worry Kitten, I won’t need to stop. My athletic abilities are like my refractory period—I never stop going-“

“YOU are disgusting! I don’t care about your fucking libido, Strider.” Karkat’s voice was raised, the troll yelling somewhat, but Dave just smirked and blew it off his shoulder; though that was not to say Karkat was wrong—the gear pathway did stretch on for miles. Miles of hopping, miles of jumping. Though the pathway was overall easy to traverse. Some gears were missing, just like the one in the beginning, but this time there were others nearby that the human could jump to, could float to.

But the monotonous action was good, in that only concentrating on that allowed Dave to keep going, and not worry about when the end of LOHAC was coming, or how long it was taking overall. He kept his mind focused on the task, on holding tightly on to Karkat, and his eyes on his current surroundings…which were unusually barren.

“Hey, Kitten. Isn’t this place supposed to be populated with monsters or some shit like that?”

The five-sweeps old troll lifted his head, gazing around, “…Yeah. I…I think so…”

“Notice how we aren’t seeing any?”

“…Yeah…Should we be worried?”

Dave shrugged, and hopped to another gear; a few gears more into the future, and they reached the half-way point: five miles down, five to go. Though they themselves did not know this, Dave still felt a surge of confidence in his body, and he made another leap to the next one…

Only to have one of the bombs on his feet explode.

“SHIT!” The shockwave sent them flying, thankfully onto the gear they were aiming for, but Dave lost his hold on Karkat, who tumbled with him, but also out of sight.

Once the smoke cleared, Dave found himself unaffected by the Bomb, but Karkat wasn’t so lucky—he was sprawled out on the flood, on his back, with wide open eyes and mouth, and not responding, for he was surrounded by a dome of Time—just like what had affected Gamzee days ago. He was frozen in time.

But something was off—this time dome…was a darker red than Dave’s.

And the floating Time symbol at the top of the dome? That certainly wasn’t Dave’s doing.

“Don’t worry, Dave Strider. It is my doing.”

He knew they weren’t alone…He should have known from the beginning—the fact that LOHAC had been deserted of life from the get-go in itself was off—that they were being followed was just their luck.

He whipped around, and on the gear in front of them was a creature—a troll dressed in all red, with white leggings and black shoes, with curvy horns, and a red outfit that was the twin of Dave’s own…

And…

And there were…

Red wings. Made of gossamer and dust that were sparkling against the lava’s light source. Wings that were curvy and fluttering like those of a butterfly's.

Instantly, he drew out his sword and got into a fighting stance, but the creature just gave him a smile—an unusually friendly smile, a type of smile he no longer trusted thanks to Terezi.

“Relax, Dave Strider. I am the Angel of Time. And I’m here to make a deal with you.”

“No. Now let him go. I don’t know what you did-“

“I did exactly what you will one day be able to do, of course. I stopped time for Karkat. He cannot hear or see us, but he is unharmed.”

“You’re the one who shot off my bomb, then? 'Cause it sure as hell didn't explode because of my powers.”

“Well, I needed to get your attention, somehow.” The angel giggled, grinning wider, “And please, call me Aradia. Aradia Megido.”

“I honestly don’t care what your name is. Now, let him go.”

“I actually have a matter to discuss with you, Dave. One that will benefit every single person, troll or human, involved.”

“I already said no.” Dave huffed, anger growing by the second—who did this angel think she was?

“Please. At least listen to my idea. Besides, I am the Angel who blessed you at birth. Can’t you give me your ear for a few moments?”

That caused Dave to pause; she had a point—politeness could be useful here. Not only was she the Angel of Time—the one who had given him the abilities to get this far, and to go farther than most mortal men—she was an Angel of Time. More than likely, if he pissed her off, she could send him into another time stream for eternity, or, worse, paradox-space. If such a place existed.

“…I’m listening.”

“Good! Now, I’m here to ask you to hand over Karkat to me.”

“…I thought you said this was going to be a deal, not some sort of quasi-order.”

“Forgive me,” Aradia went on, and nodded, “I am asking you to hand over Karkat to me, to the Angels, in order to benefit you and humanity—thus the ‘deal’ part of the deal.”

“Oh, this is going to be fucking rich,” Dave muttered, and shook his head, and sheathed his sword, “Tell me how this is going to work, then, angel.”

“Simple, really. We angels will take better care of Karkat.”

“Uh-huh, no. I know you’re going to kill him.”

Aradia shrugged, “Death is inevitable for him. It's inevitable for everyone, eventually. One day, there will be an entire corpse party on this world, and Karkat will be a part of it, due to, yes, death eventually happening! And that is another point to my deal with you, but I digress. Giving him to the angels, Dave Strider, will allow us to use his powers for the benefit of man and woman—including yourself. We will not burn this planet to the smoldering heap the demons wish to see. We will merely cleanse it--clean it of the sinners, the evil, those who are unfit.”

“But people will die, right? That's what cleanse fucking means here, right? You know, you must think I’m some sort of idiot, doll. I know this story—It’s already been told me by a lot of different people.”

“People will die, but we will bring salvation to many—to the majority, and to those deserving it. We will be able to use Karkat’s abilities, his powers, to dampen the demons and destroy Hell itself. A worthy end for the New Messiah, do you not think?”

Dave snorted, “So Karkat is just…a pawn in your war-games with Hell?”

“When you put it like that, it sounds despicable,” Aradia frowned, crossing her arms, “But yes, Karkat will help us shut down Hell, forever.”

“And the demons want to use him to clear out Heaven and kill off Alternia as a whole. I know the story.”

“So you see why you should listen to me, yes? Having Karkat succumb to the demons would be a most painful, agonizing death. His body would be ripped to shreds, blood everywhere. We would make his death the least painful possible, because we are merciful creatures.”

“Merciful? Merciful?!” Dave barked, “You’re wanting me to decide his fate right here, right now, without him even realizing it! How the hell is that mercy?”

“Karkat would be emotional about the decision, and I was hoping you would not be. If you truly care about his well-being, you would see that this is the best route for him.”

“Oh my…” Dave put his hand to his lips, trying to stifle the snorts and giggles coming out, trying to play it cool and be collected; but he utterly failed, and soon let out a righteous, romping laugh, shaking his head in the meantime. Of course, the Megido angel was far from amused.

“May I ask what is so funny? Do remember who you’re addressing-“

“Oh, I KNOW who I’m addressing, sweetheart,” Dave crossed his arms, “And who do you think you are? Who do you ALL think you are?”

“Excuse me?”

“You think you can just come in here and…and command me to do this, or do that, and think I’ll just get on holy bended knee and obey your every command? You don’t know me. You don’t know him, either. You don’t know what he’s been through. And you certainly don’t own either of us.”

“I may not own you, but you owe me, Dave Strider. I am the one who blessed you at birth, seeing your potential. And-“

“And yeah, yeah, you can take my fucking blessing away, I get it. Well guess what? I could make the rest of this journey—with Karkat in tow—without any Time help. I know I could.”

“…Is that not a bit of a cocky statement, David?” Aradia smirked, hands on her hips, “Are you asking me to take your powers away?”

“Fuck no I’m not. What I’m saying is that I feel I could do just as good without them, if I had to. Therefore, you threatening me with some dangling, sparkly powers like a fucking carrot on a stick ain’t going to do shit. You have nothing over me.”

Aradia tilted her head, “Where is this confidence coming from? Especially because you have been surviving LOHAC—which, did you know, is my own domain on this planet?—with only the use of the powers I bestowed on you.”

“I dunno, sweetheart, but I can feel it in me. I just know. Maybe it’s because Karkat’s an actual encouraging little fucker once he gets going. Or maybe it’s because after meeting you, I just want to try as hard as damn possible to get to the end. Hell, after meeting ALL of you!”

“All of us?”

“ALL OF YOU! The demons, the angels…you know what? And now, I normally don’t say this to ladies, but you can just fuck off. All of you.” Dave huffed, “Because you have no right interfering in this. Not like this. You have no right to interfere in his life. Do you think he wanted any of this? Shit, Terezi was right about that one thing—he already blames himself enough as it is, and this shit just makes him feel worse. He doesn’t want to be a part of your little mind games.”

Aradia’s smile began to falter at Dave’s statement, and it was soon clear that she felt something was off.

“You care about Karkat Vantas a great deal?”

“I don’t just carry guys around in my arms for hours on hours for shits and giggles, sweetheart.”

“…” The troll-angel glanced away, rust-colored eyes gazing over at the lava, her back straight as an arrow, “So what is your final answer?”

“Final answer? No. I’m keeping him.” A pause, “With me. I’m keeping him with me. And if you’re going to try and take him right here, right now, I’ll go down fighting.”

“I’m not going to fight you, Dave Strider. I respect you too much to fight you in my own domain, because you'd be utterly slaughtered. And I’m giving you this last chance to abscond and change your mind—even though I am certain you won’t.”

“I sure as hell won't.”

“Which is a pity,” Aradia continued with, “Though, a part of me should not be surprised. In the other ninety-nine timelines I visited—and exist in—you turned down my deal there as well. I suppose I was just hoping that this one time you would listen to me, and see that Karkat being given to the angels would be a mercy.”

“I beg to disagree, but I guess we’ll have to see, won’t we? And there are ninety-nine other timelines out there?”

“Oh, there are many, many more than that!” At the quick change of topic, Aradia smiled once again—almost in a creepy fashion, “There are an infinite number of timelines that exist, Dave Strider. You could consider ours the “Beta” timeline, because it is called the Beta Era here right now, yes?”

“Yeah, I guess. The Alpha Era was before and during the time of the Signless or something.”

“Correct. So I will call us the Beta Timeline for keeping things simple. Or the Main Timeline, whatever you wish. Regardless, there are dozens and dozens of them out there, in different streams…You have already seen some of them, I know.”

“…Unfortunately.” Dave muttered under his breath.

“You and I exist in every single one, and our journeys are very much the same, with a few differences here and there. Some major differences, some minor. And in each one, I came to find, I made the same deal to you—and yet you turned it down every single time. All ninety-nine times. It was fascinating, really.”

“And you really thought that after ninety-nine times of me saying no, I’d finally say yes?”

“I suppose you could call me an optimist, Dave Strider.”

“Great, good for you. Are we done here?”

“Almost, then, I suppose,” Aradia sighed, “I must ask you once more, then: will you not hand over Karkat to myself and the other angels?”

“No. No deal.”

“Then we are finished here, but be warned: this is not the last time you will see me, Dave Strider. And next time we meet, it will be on the field of battle. I did not come here to fight, but fight I must if it will give me what I need to achieve my goals.”

“Fine, then. Come at me, all of you. I stopped caring a long, long time ago.”

“Oh, but you should care. Because I gave you a chance to end this, Dave Strider, and you refused.” Aradia shook her head sadly, her short, red hood bouncing just a tad, her black hair hidden behind it, “You will remember this day as the day you turned down an opportunity for change, and a chance to end it all early.”

“I highly doubt that. Now, let Karkat go, and get out of here.”

“Of course…But one more thing. Did you ever realize that something was off about LOHAC? That it was…quiet?”

Oh, fuck.

“…Yes. Why?”

“You did not notice it, because your perception is still weak, and you did not pay attention—I sent the entirety of LOHAC back in time, to a time when there was no wildlife here.”

Oh shit.

“…B-But there was no Time Dome, no-“

“Signs? Of course. I’m the Angel of Time, Dave Strider. I can alter time without it being visible for long, or the powers can be clear, translucent, whatever color I wish. It’s a perk I was born with, hee!” Aradia grinned, but then soured, “I was so hoping this was going to go well, Dave Strider. You and I could have bonded over our natural abilities and dispositions.”

“I’m done bonding with supernatural creatures for a long while, thanks.”

“Your decision. But yes, I suppose I better bring everything back to…the present. Goodbye!”

With a wave of her hand, she vanished with a flutter of wings—and so did the dome around Karkat.

“HOLY SHIT I CAN’T-…Strider? What’s going on?”

Dave quickly turned, only to see that Karkat was rising on his feet—with tamed anger, and bubbling awe instead.

Because around them, the Land of Heat and Clockwork came to life—in a bad way.

Amber and rust-colored Imps began dancing off metal structures, basilisks were swimming over gears and jumping into the lava, only to jump back out again unharmed. And far in the distance, ogres were marching to and fro, jumping off buildings and gears, roaring with anger and vengeance. All the while, orange and red crocodiles chirped and gawked with confusion.

The Land of Heat and Clockwork was once again in the present time—and it was alive with wildlife.

And at the growing sight of monsters and creatures, Karkat hurried closer to Dave, shouting,

“Strider, what the hell happened and what the hell is going on now?”

---

He had had to quickly explain exactly what occurred, and boy, that was a treat—Karkat kept screeching “WHAT?!” and “OH FUCK NO!” often and interrupting with loud, obnoxious yelling.

But when Dave got to the heart of the matter, Karkat had a softer gaze, with wide, cartoon-eyes that reminded him of his brother Dirk’s anime (and Bro’s, too) obsession; the troll boy had crossed his arms, tilting his head in wonderment, saying,

“You told her no deal? But…”

“Of course, man. Fuck, why would I hand you over to those freaks? They don’t tell a Strider what to do.”

“…You did that for me. You were given a way out, and…”

“It wasn’t the best way out, Karkles. Lots of people would be dead. You’d be dead.”

“…”

“If you’re shocked that I don’t want you dead by now, Jesus Christ, I don’t know what to do to convince you otherwise,” Dave huffed, “I just nearly lost my voice screaming your name—oh God that sounds bad ignore it like that okay, I wasn’t be sexual, shit—when yo-you were burning in a fire, and I thought this Aradia witch killed you, and-“

“Strider.”

“I’m pretty tired of wondering what you’re not going to believe me about next, and half of the time I’m sick of you bouncing between utter hatred for me and actual compliance and possible enjoyment of my presence. Like, I know you understand irony but-“

“DAVE.”

“Mmph?”

Karkat sighed, having slapped his hand over the human's mouth,

“This is disgusting, so I’m going to keep it quick.” Silence, then, “Thank you.”

Dave blinked behind his shades, and hoped, with all his might, that he was hiding a possible blush that existed on his face.

Fun fact: he was not hiding it.

“Now, can we get the fuck out of here?”

And Dave didn’t need another word from the other to agree.

They took off immediately, Dave strapping another disarmed bomb to his foot, and making sure it would levitate without problems; immediately after, he grabbed Karkat, taking him by the hand and running across the gears, sword in his other hand. This way and that, he slashed through golden and rusty imps, their bodies falling to the waste side. The troll boy’s hands were not in the best shape still, but he was tired of complaining and “being fucking useless”, as he eloquently put it. So after some time, he let Dave’s hand go, to the other’s surprise, and spun, taking out his own weaponry, and slicing through the neck of another imp that was behind the Strider boy.

“…Damn, Vantas.”

“You want to get out of here? We’re gonna do this together. And if you don’t like, you can kiss my ass.”

Another swish of Dave’s sword through a basilisk, while a crowd of crocodiles from the metal building above their heads cheered, “Fine with me. And at least some of the things that live around here are friendly.” The Strider quipped while waving a hand at the reptilian creatures above their head.

“Yeah, yeah, wave to your fucking fans at another time.” Karkat tugged on his hand, and Dave picked him up again, feet continuously levitating on the gears at this point for faster travel, and began levitating to the next one. They continued to slice their way through monster after monster, hopping and eventually climbing up another structure; the duo found themselves running, the adrenaline rush sustaining their energy, and Dave dove off the metal, Karkat in his arms, after both had sliced through a wave of ogres, blood coating their weapons and faces.

“Throw me!”

“What?” Dave was falling towards the next gear when Karkat shouted it.

“Just fucking do it! Trust me!”

And he did, flinging the candy-red blooded male ahead of him, and Karkat did know what he was doing; with a sickle in each hand, he landed on one foot and one knee, each blade coming into the neck of an enemy on either side of him, the imps crying out in pain as they were fallen instantly.

“Whoa.”

Part of Dave’s mind said that was heroic. Another part of him said that was very much like a warrior.

And perhaps a small, reptilian-brain-filled part of Dave found the move a bit…attractive.

Karkat slowed down after that, hands tiring out, but Dave completely understood—but Karkat did not keep to the sidelines during the time, either. Karkat’s legs were in the best working order, and he was quick on the draw, and used this to his advantage to kick monsters down to the ground while Dave pierced their bodies with his sword. He also was quick with vision—able to point out when an enemy was coming at them, from the sides, from below, from above (apparently imps liked to jump to their death—and try to take the boys with them), and from afar.

“You know, this is making me wonder something!” Dave shouted out as he floored another ogre, blade in its skull, “All this running around makes me wonder if in another timeline I had wings. Would’ve made things a hell of a lot easier.”

“HAH!” An actual bark of a laugh from Karkat, “If you have wings somewhere, that means I have abdominal muscles of a muscular hoofbeast trainer, the smile of Troll Ryan Lochte, and the patience of a saint.”

“You mean you don’t already have the patience of a saint?”

They kept up the banter for some time, and it was an enjoyable change from the silence and anger that they had been knee-deep for some time. Thankfully, the journey looked to be taking a positive turn at this point: the enemies were falling around them, the miles were getting shorter, and they even had the time to take breaks and rest amongst the crocodiles.

“I bet I could start up a business with these guys.” Dave piped up with at one point, when they were taking a break to eat (and piss in lava—that was Dave) and drink apple juice (that looked like the piss that went into the lava—again, Dave).

“Oh yeah? I’d pay to see that fail.”

“Nah, man, come on. It’d be…a stock exchange.”

“…What kind of fucking moron starts a stock exchange in the middle of a fucking lava wasteland with crocodiles? And I’m not even going to ask what a stock exchange is.”

“Uh, a genius starts up that shit, that’s who. A good looking genius that wears suits and has blond hair and glasses.”

“You’re not in a suit, dingbat.”

“Nah, but I could be. I like suits. I used to wear them a lot back home. Black ones, red ones, green ones.”

“You wore a green suit? Dear God, Kanaya would have strangled you for that.”

Dave let out a laugh at that, flicking a piece of fruit at Karkat, “I’d rather have you strangle me. It’d be funnier and probably less lethal.”

“Screw you, Strider.”

They kept at it, and it was enjoyable…they were actually having fun, and it was so…

So good, actually.

Dave could get used to it.

And maybe Karkat could, too.

But of course, it ended at a point—at the end of LOHAC.

They had finally reached the end—had a day passed? Maybe? Almost a day?—and there was the end: dark sand and dirt leading up to a mound of hills that crested not far away. They only had to hop the last gear…

And get past the giant Giclops that stood between it and them.

The beast, red as the lava it rose from, had one giant eye in the center of its head, and two horns up above the orb with only a black pupil in it. It let out a roar that shook the buildings and rails around them, and Dave found himself pulling Karkat closer to his body, shielding him with his left arm.

“Stay behind me. I’ve got this.”

“A-Are you crazy?! You can’t take that fucking thing on all by yourself!”

“Kind of have to, don’t I?”

“Strider, I have been helping you this entire time! You don’t have to pull some Troll Indiana Jones shit and protect me like I’m some fucking maiden the entire goddamn time!”

“Look, just let me take care of this, okay?” Dave ignored Karkat’s piercing gaze, keeping his eyes on the beast in front of them, who had begun pounding the metal buildings around them, scaring and eating some of the crocodiles.

“No, oh fuck no, you’re not letting this drop. Let me help you! I can fight it-“

“You’re still injured, Vantas. Just stand down from this. I get that you’re prideful, but just fucking listen to me.”

“AND YOU LISTEN TO ME! I am, dare I say this lest I vomit putrid waste everywhere onto our shoes, thankful for what you’ve done so far, but that doesn’t mean I’m useless or that I’m weak. I don’t want to be useless, I can’t be useless-“

“You’re not fucking useless, for Christ’s sake-“

“I just don’t need you to let me sit by and act like I need your dying protection and safety-"

“I WANT TO PROTECT YOU, ALRIGHT?” Dave shouted back, his frustration finally reaching a peak, and he nearly threw his sword down in the form of a temper tantrum; but the words and the tone he had shouted them in shocked the troll enough into silence, shock and awe clear on his face.

“…What?”

A sigh, “Look, I just…I want to protect you. I’m not trying to be some overbearing mommy, I ain’t about that shit. But I…I just…”

“…You don’t want to see me get hurt again. It…It’s not about…my strength, is it?”

“Fuck no. Well. I know you’re injured so you need to take it easy, but-“

“Man…” Silence came forth, that lasted the length of three heartbeats, and what came forth was “I’m such an asshole. It’s…I’m not good with apologies, and I already hate myself enough as it is-“

“Oh, no, no, no. We’re not getting into a conversation about your immense self-hatred and how bad it is right now in the middle of LOHAC, that conversation has to happen at an appropriate time, fuck-“

“What?” Karkat questioned, confusion on his face, his expression twisted with a rainbow of emotions.

“Uh, never mind,” Dave replied with, realizing the extent of what he had spewed, and he hurriedly spoke, “Look just stay here, stay here, be safe, be beautiful, be sassy, be whatever the fuck you want, make RuPaul proud of you by loving yourself, kay, great, see you later, gotta kill a Giclops don’t get the blood on your shoes-“

“WHAT DID YOU SAY?!” Karkat screeched as Dave took to the air, sword in his hand; his feet landed on the shoulder of the beast, and immediately, he began jumping and slashing—a cut here, a gash there, but the thing was strong, ignoring the minor wounds Dave was giving it. And they were minor—the monster was, of course, monstrous and was not going to fall so easy.

Meanwhile, Karkat remained on the ground, watching the Strider boy fly this way and that, dodging the fists of the creature who had begun to swung them. Annoyed, left out, but thinking of a strategy, the Vantas child spoke up after a moment,

“STRIDER. GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE!”

Well, he more bellowed after a moment, but Dave agreed, flinging himself back down to the gear on the ground,

“Sup?”

“I have an idea.”

“This’ll be rich.”

“Throw me into its eye, and then slice off its head. That has to be the weak spot. Or, it is in all those fucking movies, right?”

“…We’re doing shit based on a movie now? We that desperate?”

“Look, at this point, I can safely say we’re probably doing a lot that’s come from movies, and that we're both probably very desperate assholes, so you can either shut up and listen to me, or shut up and go back to trying and fighting it by yourself. Either way, just shut up and—OH COME ON! I TOLD YOU TO FUCKING WARN ME!”

“Never said I would!” Dave shouted back as he had quickly grabbed Karkat and flung him at the beast; Karkat thankfully had enough sense in him to take out his sickles once again, and once he reached his target, he quickly stabbed the monster in the eye.

Black blood squirted out onto him and into the air, and the beast wailed in agony, arms flinging up to his eye, and Karkat barely jumped onto its forehead in time. But the Giclops shook and thrashed about, and the troll found himself flying into the air, his grip not steady and strong enough.

“KARKAT!”

But Dave, for all his fright, did not need to worry this time—Karkat fell off the back of the beast, and landed with a crash into the dirt and black sand that announced it was the end of the wasteland.

And the Strider, genius he be, took advantage of the situation just as Karkat was sitting up below; quickly, he sliced the creature’s neck wide open, zooming around its entire body, black liquid gushing everywhere, even onto his Knightly clothes. And he finished just in time, because the thrashing body (and soon-to-be-corpse) eventually launched him into the air by a haphazard wave of the Giclops’ hand, and Dave’s body went soaring.

Of course, Striders never screamed in fear—but maybe this time there would be an exception.

“CATCH ME, CATCH ME! COMING IN FUCKING FAST VANTAS CATCH ME RIGHT NOW-“

And he did—with arms not wide open (only open just a tad, sorry Dave) did Karkat catch him, the duo falling to the ground just as the body of the monster hit the lava.

“…Oh…”

“My fucking God…”

“I know, right?”

“Never do that again.”

“Planning on it. Nice move with the eye, by the way.”

“I don’t need your fucking appreciation, but…thanks. I guess. And Strider?”

“Yeah, Kitten?”

“If you ever cozy up to me and sit on my lap like you’re doing now ever again, I’ll rip out your entrails, strangle you with them in your sleep, and then find a way to resurrect your body just to do it all over again.”

“Neat. Now if only I was into vore.”

---

It took them another twenty minutes to climb up the hills they had landed at the foot of, mostly because Dave kept whining about being tired and wanting to sleep, and Karkat kept countering him with the fact they could sleep once they “got to the top of the hills, dumbass”.

But eventually, they did, and both proceeded to unceremoniously flop themselves onto the black grass, Dave onto his back, Karkat onto his face.

“Next time, you’re carrying me, Karkles. Kay?”

“Mmphmphm.”

“What was that?”

He lifted his head, “In the words of Past Me: Fuck. No.”

“I dunno man, Past You was pretty with it back there. I kind of like him.”

“Yeah, well, it’s just me now, and-“ Karkat had risen, sighing with fatigue, until he stopped suddenly—thinking there was trouble, Dave rose into a seated position.

“Vantas?”

“Strider…Look. Over there.”

He stood, running over to the older male.

“Is that…Am I seeing what I think I’m seeing? I ain’t hallucinating?”

It was—with its gleaming towers that stretched up towards the sky, its metallic gems shining with bright lights from a distance, its skyways for cargo visible even from the hills they stood upon, and the roaring shouts of people and vehicles and jubilation reaching their tired ears.

“Yeah Dave. That’s the City of Skaia.”

Chapter Text

Five

Blessed Be the Sky

Skaia is the Old Alternian word for ‘Heaven’, and is not just the name of a planet. Nor does it mean, according to laymen and incompetent fools, ‘sky’. No, it is the word that means the equivalent of the human ‘paradise’, ‘nirvana’, and ‘peace’—therefore, Heaven. The planet Skaia was discovered long, long before the city itself was built; in fact, it was discovered during the era of the Signless, and was thought to be the type of the potential paradise that awaited those living on Alternia. Though no one knew what exactly lived on Planet Skaia during that time, its crystal-clear blue and white surface was beauty of the purest kind, and its purple and golden moons, named Prospit and Derse by the Alternians, were mysterious enigmas in themselves.

Unfortunately, but good for the Signless’ cause, Skaia was destroyed. After the red-blooded rebel was killed in action, sixty-nine days later, when no one was sure who had ordered the hit exactly on the troll (though many guessed The Condesce—the Darkleer had shouted her name at his death, but the sea witch denied it and her relation to the other, and without proof, no one could act), Skaia turned dark gray, clouding over in the sky…and eventually exploded in a fiery bomb. Any and all trace of the planet vanished and the metaphorical Heaven was swallowed up by darkness. By the grace of God, Derse and Prospit were spared, but the physical force of the explosion caused the moons’ orbits to change, and they moved away from the remains of Skaia, and were pushed closer to Alternia instead.

Miraculously, the human and troll species saw the death of Skaia as happening because of the Signless’ death; this in turn lead to the Orphaner bringing proof of The Condesce’s involvement in both the Signless and the Knight’s death. The number sixty-nine was henceforth considered both an omen, and a miraculous number at the same time, depending on what the context was.

Decades and sweeps later, trollkind and humankind sought to reclaim a piece of Heaven for themselves. About fifty sweeps after the death of the Signless, a group of pilgrims of both species traveled out into the Alternian landscape, past the Land of Heat and Clockwork, and settled, with the notion that they would build a grand city that would reach towards the sky—towards Heaven—and each man and woman would be able to literally touch their salvation once again. It would become a religious hub for any and all, and though their materials were scarce and primitive at the time of building the original city, the city would eventually grow and grow, and modernize too. They named it Skaia—in honor of the original hope of Heaven.

Today, in present time, the City of Skaia does indeed live up to its name. Those who live there go about their daily lives in large, monumental skyscrapers, and the higher one lives up off the ground, the closer they are said to be towards Heaven. Of course, you are probably thinking, this is a bit of a silly notion—those who are poor and cannot afford a home on the one-thousandth floor of a skyscraper could be the most devout and holy person, while a person way at the top could be pure evil, right? Wrong. The government of Skaia keeps track of its citizens deeds and lifestyles; those who are good people, even if poor, may live at the top. Criminals, thieves, dirty politicians, and whores live at the bottom, regardless of the lies they try to tell. There are watchful eyes among the sky, as they say; and honesty truly is the best policy if one wants to receive the paradise the Messiah promised them.

Skaia as well is still, of course, a central religious center—and that includes the MatriChurch as well. Whereas the church in Alternia’s Capital can be considered of ‘medium’ build (much space and patronage having been bought out by mega churches with technology and boisterous preachers, and other religions, sadly), the basilica in Skaia was gigantic—its crystalline dome could be seen from the hills in the distance of the city, including the ones Dave and Karkat stood on currently, along with its white, marble tower…

Except there was a gigantic hole in the dome’s center, as if a monster had reached down and bitten out a piece of it.

And the tower itself had a chunk of it missing, namely the top third of the tower, the angel statue—the statue for the Archangel of Games, Scent, and Travel—gone without a trace.

And the sounds of jubilation they had believed to have heard had not been jubilation—because now the streets were full of people not happy, not joyous, but instead were keeping their heads down, coughing and aching; the lights they had seen were true, but now many were dim—and there were not as many as they had believed. The distance had lied to them—the city was not celebrating, but mourning. There had not been screams of joy and celebration, but screams of agony and fear.

And the boys noticed these facts immediately, having seen the pictures of the city and of the Skaian MatriChurch basilica dozens of time in books and early homeschooling.

“Huh. Well. That ain’t normal, right?”

“No…Definitely not normal….” The Vantas boy whispered, and then cleared his throat, “Come on. Kanaya made a note to stop here—we may be able to get some help from the MatriChurch, if we explain who I am.”

“They don’t know you’re coming?” Dave questioned as he began to follow the other down the semi-slippery slope.

“They don’t even know I fucking exist. Well, okay, they know I was supposed to exist eventually, everyone got that damn sermon, but my Mother and her sisters never told others that they found me. They wanted to keep it…well…quiet. I wasn’t exactly a personable wriggler.”

The human snorted, “You don’t say?” and Karkat gave him a glare, continuing on,

“They didn’t want to make a huge spectacle of me. Instead, if anything did happen, they would eventually contact the other churches, and we would ban together to protect me. Unfortunately, things got a bit…ruined before that shit could happen. But if they have seen the meteors—“

“Or got hit by them?”

“…Yes, Strider, or if they got hit by them, they can probably assume I’m here—or have been here on the planet for a while, really.”

“But how will they believe you’re the chosen little child of Troll Jesus? You really don’t have a blinking neon sign above your head saying ‘SON OF MESSIAH RIGHT HERE’ in a flashy pink color. And yes, it’s pink. No questions. Already decided. By me, of course.” Dave smirked at his remark as they slid down another slope, Karkat stopping at a tree to answer the other’s question, with the reply of,

“This will help them to believe, bright one. And negative ten points for your genius choice of color, by the way.” The candy-red blooded male moved his hand and brought up his necklace, it usually hidden under his shirt but it now glowed in the sunlight, “No one else in the world has this now. Because they were never fucking made. Only the Signless himself wore a necklace like this. No one else was allowed to wear it, except maybe his Knight, but people aren’t even sure about that little tale. This is the original copy, and it was probably kept in the bucket with his material so when I was born, they put it on me.”

“…So you’re wearing something that had your dad’s spunk on it? Disgusting.”

“You’re disgusting.” Karkat spat back, “And apparently you have no appreciation for history.”

“Oh hell, I have appreciation for history—just not the history of jizz, Kitten.”

“Well, I’d rather wear something with my own family member’s spunk on it than wear something that had yours on it. I’d rather burn my visual orbs out with fire and salt than ever touch your fluids, Strider, and I hope you always remember that.

“Aww, Kitten…” Dave sidled up to the other, who merely kept walking with a straight face and a frown, “You been thinking about my fluids? I know, they’re fabulous and worth having all over your pretty face.“

“The day I get your ‘fluids’ all over me is the day I commit the human form of ritual suicide.”

“You know, your threats of suicide aren’t exactly funny—but anyway, that’s beside the point, the point being this: how do you think I’d feel if I ever got troll jizz all over me? Isn’t that shit supposed to be the color of your blood?”

Karkat bristled, and ground out, “Yes. It is. And don’t worry, I won’t get my red genetic material anywhere near you. God wouldn’t let that happen.”

“But what if there’s no God and it does happen, huh?” Dave smirked back, but let out a yelp of pain when Karkat moved in front of him, pulled a branch from a tree back, and let it hit the human in the face.

“If there’s no God, there’s no hope for you, Strider. Now shut the hell up and stop talking like an immature grub and don’t embarrass me in Skaia.”

“Man, I’ve never believed in a God,” Dave remarked with a huff, rubbing his sore nose, “Too many questions, not enough answers, and no visual data to show proof.”

“So you’ve never followed a religion?” Karkat asked as they reached the outer wall of the city.

“Hell no. Never followed a religion, God, religious leaders, any of that shit. Never believed in it. But, uh…”

“…What?”

“I…guess I kind of believe in you?”

Karkat blinked and stiffened, while nearly screaming—okay, he did scream-- “W-What the hell does that mean?!”

”N-Nothing, man! Stop blushing like that! It was just…uh…a compliment! I was saying I-“

“I’M NOT BLUSHING! SHUT UP!”

“I just meant that I believe in what you’re doing—did—I-I mean you walked out of a fucking fire-“

“Okay, DO NOT bring that up again. I didn’t mean to walk out of that shit, I was very much prepared to die-“

“But you didn’t!” Dave shouted back, “You survived because of who you are! And I guess I…kind of believe in that. In you. In…your things. And shit.”

“…I…Um…” Karkat’s ears and claws twitched in nervousness and surprise, having never been complimented like so before in his lifetime—let alone by Dave himself, “Thanks…I guess.”

“…No problem.” The human as well was quite red in the face, and he found himself rubbing the back of his neck in shyness and fear, “Can we just go inside now?”

“…Yeah. And like I said, don’t embarrass me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Kitten. Wouldn’t dream of it at all.”

---

Skaia, clearly, was no longer Heaven, because the moment the duo stepped inside the city’s walls—the gates of it wide open, to the curiosity of the boys—they were drenched in the smell of smoke and burnt out fires. Wood and debris lined the cobblestone roads, shattered glass was littered everywhere, while blood lined the brick walls of some homes, and was splattered in the street. Women cowered in the streets, hugging their children to their chests, their homes having been obliterated, while men ran up and down, trying to rescue and recruit others for assistance.

But it was the smell—the pure, ugly smell—that caused Karkat to double over and grab his olfactory appendage in pain, while Dave reached out to grip him tightly so he didn’t fall over.

“What the fuck…is that smell?” The troll ground out, while Dave’s shielded eyes scanned the mess that was the city, and he only had a one-worded reply:

“Death.”

The Vantas boy groaned in agony, but eventually straightened up, pressing on, seeing the citizens of Skaia carrying bodies on gurneys—some stirring, some crying out in pain, and others silent as stone.

“Look, man, if you want to turn back-“

“No.” Karkat cut him off, “We need to see what happened here, and what happened to the MatriChurch.”

The Strider merely nodded, and followed the other close behind, once in a while having to grip the troll’s elbow, the smells of dead flesh and heat and chaos getting to his mind; and though neither mentioned in, Karkat’s eyes flashed red—the red of visions of pain, the visions of what had happened in the once prosperous city. A city whose buildings had been toppled by flaming rock, a city whose towers had been obliterated by fire and blood; one could only imagine that those on the top floor of the skyscrapers had fallen to their deaths like wingless angels, when the flaming rocks themselves had collided with the buildings. And those at lower elevations fell too—just shorter disances.

Nothing, though, no visions, no comforting words, prepared either boy for the sight that awaited them at the end of the alley they had chosen to go down. Shouting could be heard from streets back, and once they reached the end, Karkat heard himself gasp, even though he did not realize it…

There were bodies—bodies after bodies lined up in a large park in the center of the city. Thousands of bodies, of women, of children, of men and human and troll, all lined up side-by-side, the lifeless corpses having been recovered from wreckage. A rainbow of blood spilled out on the grass below their heads, as more and more were being added to the open park, where trees were burned to a crisp, and large holes with meteors sat—future mass graves for the dead. And as the moments passed, they could see a troll couple of olive blood crying, and placing a tiny troll child amongst the other dead, the girl’s eyes wide open, but her neck broken. Other parents came, other family members from different castes and surnames, to place their own lost ones…

While Karkat turned and immediately vomited into the corner of the alleyway, Dave himself standing stock still, his body humming slightly with shaking motion.

“Dear God…” was all he could whisper, his mind going one hundred miles a minute—was the Capital like this? Were other citizens like this? Was his brother okay in Xen? Was Roxy alive in Neon? Had every city been obliterated like Skaia—ironically, Heaven once again destroyed due to someone of Vantas blood—and was now lost? Or had only some been torn apart?

“Ugh…” The five-sweeps old troll groaned, wiping his mouth, and his sound of pain caused Dave to stir and come to his side, gingerly rubbing his back, “I…Oh God, why did…Why did this happen?”

“I don’t know.” It wasn’t a question that needed answering, but Dave wanted to comfort the other in some way.

“I-I…I didn’t want this, I didn’t want…I…”

“…Shh…I know, man. I know.”

The human helped the other stand straighter, holding onto his hand, Karkat still groaning and dreading the taste of bile—and the taste of disgust—on his black lips. He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath, and shaking the dread off his shoulders for a temporary amount of time, spoke quietly,

“We need to find the church. Now. Someone has to explain what is going on here.”

And as they began to step forward, they stopped once again—because they did not have to look far. The MatriChurch basilica was behind the park, its doors wide open…and its Sisters were coming forward.

And immediately, Karkat tensed up, knowing something was wrong.

“Something’s wrong.”

“Say what?”

“Their veils are up.”

“…So?” Dave quipped, confusion on his face.

“So? So, dipshit, Mother Grubs don’t ever, ever lift up their veils in public. It’s a fucking sin, and it’s part of their vows.”

“…And? Maryam doesn’t pull her veil down over her face. Maybe it’s a Skaia tradition-“

“No. It’s not. And Kanaya doesn’t do it because she’s not a Grub, dumbass.” Karkat huffed, then had his shoulders sag as sharp claws gripped the wall he hid behind, “Sisters never show their faces unless…Well...”

“Unless what?”

A pause the length of a heartbeat came forth, “…Unless they’re renouncing their vows and leaving the religion.”

Dave was going to say more, but never got the chance, because the Sisters they were watching began to address the crowd, one Grub coming up onto a large rock with the finesse and grace of an acrobat; the Strider crouched closer, to hear better, hands coming to rest on the Vantas’ shoulders—if the troll was bothered by the closeness, he made no remark so.

“Brothers and Sisters, Daughters and Sons!” The Grub shouted, “Skaia has suffered a catastrophe of immense proportions, and it is one that has decimated at least one-half of our population, as estimated by one of my Sisters. Our children have been slain, our wives and husbands killed while falling to their deaths at the decimation of their towers and homes. And we all want answers—we all deserve answers! And your Sisters know who is responsible for this monstrosity and calamity!”

“They sure like to use big words, don’t they-“

“SHH!”

“It was predicted,” The Sister went on, “Years and years ago, that the New Messiah would come unto our holy Alternia and decimate life as we knew it. But we, here in Skaia, have hoped for a better situation—unfortunately, that is not the case. Alternia, far and wide, has been subjected to a shower of fire and rock, and hundreds of thousands—if not millions—of troll and man have been killed thanks to this diabolical birth. But the most treacherous fact is this—Skaia has been abandoned by God! By the New Messiah!”

“…I don’t like where this is going…” Dave whispered, but Karkat was too wide-eyed and slowly dissolving into shock to pay attention.

“Skaia, the land that was destined to be a new Heaven, with glory and prosperity, has been burned off the planet by the coming of this precious Savior—who is no Savior! And we here in your church never, never believed he would come—and he has! We have wronged you, people of Skaia, for believing in the hope that this part of our religion was a fallacy. We were wronged, all wronged—even by the people who found this New Messiah and did not tell others! This New Messiah is no Messiah, my children! No Messiah would do this. And thus, we can only come to one conclusion—The Signless’ seed is spawn of demonic intentions and the Signless himself was a liar! Skaia has done nothing but revere him and his ways for centuries, and yet now we are destroyed, and must bury our dead in mass graves, and we were the ones who stood and watch as hundreds fell to their death as fiery rocks hit and destroyed our homes!”

An uproar from the crowd came forth, the Sister ripping off her veil, and throwing it to the ground; Dave subconsciously gripped the other a bit tighter, out of fear and protection, while Karkat himself was beginning to hyperventilate.

“This was not what we were promised, and this was not what Skaia deserved! We have done nothing but build a Heaven and praise God Almighty—and yet this New Messiah comes and ruins our lives! So I say to you, men and women, who will stand with us? We shall tear down this church’s walls! We shall use its resources to help our fallen families! And most of all, we shall find this New Messiah, and slaughter him and all who are with him! We will end the Messiah’s false reign, and end what the Signless began! For he was one of two things: One, a liar and a treacherous creature, whose spawn was destined to destroy us all along. Or two, a honest, good man, whose soul was twisted upon his death, and the demons took his seed and festered it into their own tool. Because no true New Messiah, even if his birth and life were meant to bring destruction, would destroy US!”

A shout came up from the crowd again, the men and woman raucously chanting in rage, their noise growing bigger and bigger moment after moment, and it was at this point that Dave noticed how the troll by his side was shaking.

“…Karkles…”

“Shit, shit, shit…” Karkat bit his lip, arms coming up to hug himself, body pressing inward trying to make himself smaller; his skin’s gray tone became white like snow, his lungs heaving air, his entire frame showing clear signs of a panic attack.

“We shall find this boy—wherever he may be! Whether he is in the Capital, Neon, the Psiioniic Mountain—wherever! And we shall cut his throat and watch him bleed, just like our children bled to death because of him! And then we shall hang him upon the burning rock with the red chains, and watch him fester and be pecked at by the vultures until the end!”

Screams of rage and agreement sounded out as more people came forward, and more Sisters took off their veils, throwing them into small pits of fire that were born from the destruction from before. Karkat, meanwhile, sunk to the stone cobblestone walkway, tears in his eyes, breathing out of control.

“Karkles…Karkat!” Dave watched as the boy sunk lower and lower, and lowered himself next to him, putting a hand on the older one’s shoulder, “Hey, hey, easy…You have to breathe…”

“I’m so dead, fuck, I’m so fucking dead, Oh God, Oh God…”

“Karkat!” The blond spoke louder, using both hands now, one on each shoulder, gently shaking the other, “Karkat, look at me!”

A whine came forth, and the troll shook his head, “They’re going to kill me, oh God, fuck, do I deserve it? Shit, shit, this is all my fault…I…I…Oh God, I’m so fucking dead…”

Dave had never had much experience with those in panic attacks—only one previous instance, really, and that had been his brother Dirk, regarding stupid “RomCom problems”. The solution to Dirk’s situation had been a slap in the face, which had then lead to said Strider leaving for six months (and was still gone). Now, though…

Well. A slap was the only previous experience he had, so…

Quickly, the Strider brought his hand across the other’s face, the smack ringing out in the alley, and Karkat gasped, then whimpered in pain—but did not cry out in anger. When his response was quiet hurt, and even quieter sadness, Dave knew he had to speak up, and shake the other out of his shut-down stupor.

“Karkat…Karkat, listen to me.” He brought a hand to the other’s short chin, lifting his head so they were eye-to-eye, “I’m going to get you out of here. I don’t know what the hell is going on with these people, but I swear to you that I’m going to get you out of this damn place, you hear me? Ain’t no crazy nuns going to keep a Strider down.”

Karkat sniffed, “But…But this…”

“Look. You didn’t do this. Not on purpose. You sure as hell didn’t do this on purpose, and to me, that’s what matters. If something happens because you exist? Well hell, how are you supposed to take blame for that, right?”

“But-“

“I mean, you weren’t the one who said, ‘Oh boy, I think I’ll have Karkat Vantas be born and have him kill a bunch of people just by breathing’, right?”

“…No…”

“Right. So you’re not at fault for this, okay? Shit happened just because I was born, but that doesn’t mean I’m responsible, right?”

And though he truly believed this of Karkat, there being no doubt in his mind about the troll’s status, there was doubt elsewhere…

For, Dave knew in his heart of hearts, and believed in his very soul, that if he had not been born, Bro would not have had to give up his life of music and puppets to take care of him…Nor would Dirk have had to watch over him time and time again, and thus spend less time with his boyfriend, leading to awkward moments, awkward smothering, and an even more painful breakup.

And, a small part of him said, that if he had not been born, Karkat may have been able to find a more stable, more mature and a sure-as-hell more reliable escort to the Altar.

“I just…Hell, I don’t fucking know.” Karkat spat, hanging his head, nubby fingers digging into his locks out of frustration, “L-Let’s just get out of here before I puke again. Shit…C-Can we just turn around and go around the city?”

“Psh. Why would we do that?” Dave snorted, “I say we keep going, and steal from these fuckers.”

That caused Karkat to snap his head up out of pure confusion, “EXCUSE ME?”

“Look. As I see it, these idiots think that they were supposed to be fucking protected from all this shit just because they were Heaven on Alternia or whatever. I say, ain’t that a bit pompous of them? Why don’t they think that maybe—just maybe—God wanted the meteors to hit here to knock these people off their high-ass horses? I would.”

“Dave-“

“And so they want to take their destruction out on you? How the hell does that work, man? You didn’t see anyone in the Capital freaking out like that, right? Even those who were followers of the MatriChurch?”

“…No…But we weren’t in the Capital for long-“

“How about that small town, then? That we passed through just a while ago? Anyone freaking the fuck out there?”

“…No…”

“So it’s these guys that are the problem. They want to start a riot and get you killed because…why? They lost their precious towers?”

“Dave, people are dead! Thousands of them! Children are dead, Dave! CHILDREN!” Karkat shot back with a sorrowful shout.

“And I get that, and it fucking sucks. And I know somewhere in some religion there’s a story about all the first born kids being dead, but it still sucks. And I wish it all hadn’t happened,” Dave rebutted, voice soft in his explanation, but then growing colder as he went on, “But they decide to take it out on you and your Dad? That’s not cool. So I say, we high-tail it out of here, but take what we need instead.”

“You want to steal from these people?! These people?” Karkat gestured to more citizens in the distance laying their dead out on the ground.

“Yeah, I do. For two reasons: One, they deserve it for being this fucking stupid and selfish, Kit Kat. I’m sorry, but they do. Two, we can use their resources to prove that you ain’t all that bad. Any goods that help us on our journey and lead us to fixing all this shit are useful and needed, right?”

“…I just…I…” Karkat sighed, staring at the ground for some time, then finally gazing up at the Strider, whose face was firm, arms crossed over his chest, “…Just get me out of here, Dave.”

“Didn’t need to tell me twice.” The human reached down, helping the other to his feet, “Do you think they’d recognize you on the streets?”

Karkat shrugged, “I highly doubt it, but…not many trolls look like me. And there were homages and pictures of the Signless. Plus, we’re not natives. We’d look out of place—especially you.”

“Excuse you, I think I look absolutely normal.”

“…” Karkat gave the other a gaze that could only be described as a look, with frustrated, lidded eyes, and an open mouth full of a ‘not-taking-your-bullshit’ attitude. The human teenager merely blinked behind his thick shades and responded with,

“You know, the last person to look at me like that got laid.”

“…Says the thirteen year old human who’s a virgin.”

“Hey, I never said they got laid by me.”

“Thank God, because the day you have sex with someone is the day the world really ends, and I’ll be hiding in a cave crying out for salvation.”

“Is ‘crying out for salvation’ a euphemism for having sex? Because it sounds like you’re the one wanting to be laid, Kitten.”

“Are you propositioning me when my life is on the line, Strider?” Karkat snorted, and Dave merely shrugged,

“Nothing sexier than end-of-the-world sex. And I bet flushed and sweating is a good look on you.”

“Strider, you wouldn’t even know where to put it.” Karkat huffed, moving around the other to walk up the alleyway, back the way they had come.

“Excuse you, Vantas, I know exactly where to put it….” A pause, “It’d be your troll-vagina, right?”

The troll slowly turned around, giving the other a disgusted and disgruntled look, “I think I just found out why you’re a virgin, funnily enough. Also, it’s called a nook, fucktard. Did they teach you anything in school?”

“Homeschooled.”

“Oh, well, that explains a lot-“

“Sex ed was taught via smuppets.”

Silence, then, “…You disgust me.”

“You can just ignore that statement, actually.”

“Nope. You disgust me.”

“I think that means ‘I love you, let’s get out of here and then get busy’.”

“Nope. It means ‘you disgust me, get me the fuck out of here and away from the boy who learned sex through smuppets—which are what, again? Puppets?”

“I’ll explain later. Now,” Dave spoke loudly, hoping to drop the topic, and grabbed Karkat’s arm to halt his steps; he lowered his voice to a whisper then after, lips coming to the red-blooded troll’s ear, “We need to go through the city, but not be seen by most of the population, or they will all drop to their knees and-“

“Kill us?”

“I was gonna say suck us off or kiss our feet, but okay, that works too. So…What’s a good solution…?”

He gazed around at the destruction: towers with large, gaping holes in their walls, towers with parts completely gone, or roofs decimated, and towers that had completely crumbled into rubble; there were small shops completely burned out due to fire and smoke; other stores had been on the bottom of the towers, and many were no longer in existence…

But there were other structures that were useful.

And as Dave gazed straight up at the railways that were high in the sky, he grinned. A grin that stretched from cheek to cheek, and could have been downright scary in some instances.

Karkat, meanwhile, after following the other’s gaze and had his mouth drop open, said one word that was heartily ignored.

“NO.”

----

The skyways had been used in Skaia for the past one-hundred years—they were metal railways that cargo traveled on via skyhooks, and said cargo could, in essence, like it was holy material, float from building to building, and, if a skyway went past two windows, person to person. Legally, only certain people had been allowed to use them for physical travel—this included the police, the cargo men in charge of the crates full of food and clothes and homemade goods such as shoes and blankets, and the politicians and religious figures who ruled over the city. In emergencies, though, doctors could travel from house to house, helping the sick, and this had been useful in the plague that had struck the city sixty years ago.

Now, though, Dave Strider was not part of that legal status to use the skyways; many of the rails had been spared, thankfully, from the meteors, but there were some cracks and spaces between the rails that would require large jumps—jumps that Dave was used to because of them going through LOHAC.

“You’re out of your damn mind.” Karkat spat as they ran through the back alleys, keeping to the shadows as they grew closer to a skyway entrance point. Noted by a blue and white flag and a barrel of skyhooks below, the entrance point was a small gate, usually guarded by a police officer, that a man or woman could jump on to, sail across the rail, and reach their destination. They were sprinkled throughout the city, and once Dave had realized through street-signs what they were, and where to go, he found his feet full of vigor and vitality, and he pulled along his companion to their new destination, keeping out of sight of the Skaians, who in turn were becoming rowdier and angrier with each passing moment.

“Aren’t I always?”

“If you for one moment think I’m going up on those things with you-“

Dave turned once they reached the gate, said gate thankfully abandoned, smiling a fairly genuine—yet still sprinkled with a smirk—smile, “Do you trust me?”

Karkat, instead of giving back a bite or retort, had his eyes grow wide—as if he was having a revelation.

“…Fuck no. But I don’t really have a choice, now do I?” The troll blinked, as if shocked by the words coming out of his mouth—as if he knew they would eventually be coming forth.

Dave moved forward, pulling the other along, still delighted at the turn of events; switching his hold on Karkat to his left hand, and grabbing a skyhook—a mechanical device with gray, whirling hooks that would latch onto the railway and pull him along at a fast speed, a speed he could control with body movement, the device itself strapped to his hand with brown Velcro and leather—with his right hand, he stood, staring at the other, who haughtily and angrily shook out of Dave’s hold.

“I am not going up there-“

The human merely smiled, and outstretched his hand again,

“Karkles. I promised I’d catch you if you fell. Remember? Back in LOHAC? I’m doing it again.” The Strider’s face fell into a more serious form, “I’ve got you. I promise.”

Karkat blinked again, sucking up a breath, and then slowly letting it out, eyes falling closed; he shook his head with a wry smile, cursing his own position and possibly stupidity…

And then moved his hand forward, until it fell into Dave’s…

Who pulled him along just as he jumped up onto the rail.

Karkat’s feet left the solid, marble ground not a second after Dave’s did, and the Strider was instantly pulled along the rail by the hook, Karkat dangling from his hold; the troll boy screamed in fear, legs flying and flopping every which way, and he whined as they sped along.

“Hang on, hang on!” Dave pulled his arm back to slow his speed, thus in turn allowing Karkat to steady himself—and climb upward, climb up onto the human so he could hold onto him better.

“Hey, hey, watch the merchandise--“ A pause, as Karkat clambered up, settling himself on the blond’s front, lanky arms around Dave’s neck, and an unusual question came from the teenage boy, “Did you just spank me?”

“That was an angry spank for not WARNING ME FIRST, YOU FUCKWAD!”

“I did warn you, and you did spank me.” Dave grinned, “I knew you liked my ass—OOF!”

Karkat pulled on the collar of the Knight’s clothing with one hand, his other arm still around Dave’s neck, bringing his face closer, “Listen, Strider. I’m hundreds of feet in the air, fearing for my life, and hanging by a thread named YOU. Get your ass moving or your ass is human grass for the BOVINES to EAT.”

“Oh, I love it when you order me around. Gets me all tongue-tied and wet.”

“JUST GO!” Karkat screeched, “OR I’LL STEAL THE HOOK AND DO IT MYSELF. GOD, I should have just grabbed my own. Stupid me for trusting that you’d do this right, I swear to—OH MY FUCKING GOD!”

Dave sped off, body pressing forward to move the hook again, while his free arm came around to press Karkat close, wrapping around the troll’s waist.

“Keep your hand above ass level, Strider.”

Dave merely gave a lewd eyebrow motion and secretly winked at the other, who in turn blushed, hiding his face away with a grumble of frustration.

And thus they moved, soaring down the railway, legs hanging in the air, Karkat clinging to the other like a monkey to a tree, pressing impossibly (and embarrassingly) close; down the rail their bodies moved, going faster and faster with each dip and each time Dave pressed his body more forward.

Karkat, meanwhile, kept his eyes pinched close out of fear, whimpering often as they soared above the heads of the Skaians, who below were either tending to the injured or dead, or beginning to riot and scream, building an army to fight off the New Messiah.

Dave let out a loud shout, due to the air rushing past their ears, dimming hearing, “Afraid of heights?”

“W-What do you think?” Karkat snapped, shaking his head, “I-It’s more a fear of being off the freakin’ ground, but sure, we can say heights.”

“Mm…Where I lived, Tixia…I lived in a high-rise. A decent-sized apartment on these gigantic steel poles, and you had to take a bunch of stairs to get up there. The elevator was always broken, too, heh.”

Karkat’s eyes opened slightly, the wind whipping at his hair as they moved forward, and climbed a small hill in the railway, “Sounds like a pain in the ass.”

“It was. Though I’m pretty sure all that shit burned down once I left. Eh, I’ll just get a new one in the end.”

“…I guess getting a new place would be the actually smart thing to do.”

“You could come and see it…me…you know,” Dave replied, “I mean, uh…visit. And shit. Nice town. Nice people.”

“They’re probably saints if they were your neighbors.”

That caused Dave to laugh, “Aww, you still have your humor even now. Good. I like you better when you’re snarky and not weepy.”

“Shut up, Strider. Please. For once, I’m saying please, so listen to me.”

“Of course, Kitten.”

They soared for some time, until Dave noticed a hole in the railway; Karkat, fortunately, had not, with his face towards the other’s chest, body curled up, trying to just enjoy the ride.

“Hey Kitten…You like to dance?”

“…What the fuck? What kind of fucking question IS THAT? I don’t have time for-“

“Then hang on!” Dave grinned, tightening his hold on the troll, whose head turned just in time to see the gaping hole before them—and shrieked loudly, hands digging into the other’s muscles and neck for safety.

The hook fell off the rail as they soared through the air, the troll cursing the other’s name, while Dave pumped his legs in the air, thankful that his previous speed and velocity kept them at an even level of the next part of the rail; with a clang, and after feeling as if they were floating in the air forever, and were about to fall, the skyhook hooked onto the metal of the next rail, and they were once again stable, soaring down the metal poles.

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!”

“What? I just asked you if you liked to dance. Figured it was appropriate, because we did kind of dance back there—you know, the movement of legs, the clinging closely, you singing loudly-“

“Yeah, yeah, but you never said WE’D BE IN THE AIR WHILE DOING IT! AND THAT WAS NOT DANCING! THAT WAS FALLING!”

“Isn’t all types of dancing sort of like falling and-or flying? And besides, if I had said ‘we’re going off the rail, hang on’, wouldn’t that have ruined the surprise?”

“FUCK YOU AND YOUR SURPSIES!” Karkat screamed at the other, bringing his face right in front of the other’s with a snarl and click of his jaw, “FUCK THEM UNTI LTHEY ARE RAW AND USED GOODS THAT CAN’T BE USED ELSEWHERE.”

“Aww, but I like surprises, baby doll. Don’t you?”

“FUCK NO I DON’T LIKE SURPRISES!” The troll huffed, “If you’re involved in these surprise, then nope, I sure as hell don’t like them.”

A pause, then,

“Then Kitten, you’re going to love this one.”

The human smirked, and before Karkat could react, they were once again off the rail, flying through the air, only this time they were spinning, and Karkat soon found himself looking up at Dave’s face for only a few, mere seconds, before being turned around again, fully spinning in a circle just as the human’s skyhook clanked against the rail again.

For those rare flashes of vision that Karkat had of the other, something in his eyes had seen…maturity. And safety. Maybe it had been his stupid upbringing about holiness, and the fact that the sun against Dave’s blond-white hair had made him look saintly and as if he had a halo. Or maybe it had been his smile, calm, cool, and collected, so sure of himself. Or maybe it had been the warmth and security of his arm and his body. Or maybe-

“You look a bit star-struck there, Karkles.”

“…Star-struck? I’m just shocked at how you’ve come to live this long, honestly.”

Or maybe it was just Dave Strider as a whole that had finally struck something in the other…

“I’d like to think I’ve come to live this long due to my charm and deadly good looks.”

“If your looks kill things, then mine must slay things without mercy.” Karkat huffed in return, settling in close and pointedly avoiding the other’s gaze.

“Knowing you, you probably slay bitches everywhere, Karkles.”

“…I’m not even going to bless that stupid statement with a response.”

They sailed on again, down the railway until the metal poles they were on crossed with another route; hanging on the other railway was a crate, and Dave grinned, taking the initiative to swing his legs back and forth. With a leap, the duo flew off the rail, Karkat having become mostly used to the movement, yet still whining in fear at one point, and both boys landed on top of the red, metal, rectangular box as gracefully as possible—which consisted of Dave landing on his feet, and the troll tumbling off onto the surface with a yelp of pain.

“Jackpot. What’cha think is in here?”

“…It says food, dumbass.” Karkat replied after a moment, pointing to the white writing on the side of the crate.

“…Oh.”

“Who’s the moron that taught you to read?”

“I can read just fine,” Dave sniffed, taking out his sword from its sheath, “I just don’t always see shit.”

“Maybe if you took off those obnoxious glasses, you could ‘see shit’ as you so eloquently put it.” Karkat spoke back with a snarky tone, while watching the other stab the crate with his weapon, thus creating a hole in the box.

“Nope. Shades always stay on.”

“And why is that? Too amazing to show other people what you really look like underneath there?”

The Strider hopped down into the crate, once he had been able to pull the metal back far enough to create a hole he could jump through; shoed feet landed on various, fresh vegetables, mainly cucumbers, tomatoes, and lettuce, while a few hunks of cheese and bread were spotted. Quickly, the Knight grabbed as many as he could and proceeded to captachalogue them in his sylladex. Though they had been given a good amount of rations in the beginning, with the length of the journey that was to come, they would need more. After all, Dave was a bit of a growing boy (who really loved apples).

“Well yeah, my amazing face would blind you, Kitten. Wouldn’t want that to happen, now would we?”

“I think I could look at you just fine without becoming blind—maybe I’d vomit profusely, but I’m sure I wouldn’t go blind.”

Dave hopped back up onto the surface of the crate then, gripping the edges and heaving himself up, “Cute. But the shades are still staying on.”

“Fine, be a pompous ass.”

The other shrugged, “I think your beautiful face is already more than enough, Kitten. We don’t need to add mine to the mix. It could cause a paradox or black hole to form, and we wouldn’t want that.”

Karkat narrowed his eyes as the other stepped closer, and took him into his one-arm embrace, fixing the skyhook on his arm once more, having laid it down on the crate before jumping in; his voice was filled with doubtful venom as he spoke,

“Stop flattering me. It isn’t going to get you anywhere.”

“And how do you know that, hmm?”

“Because it’s me you’re flattering, asshole. Now just keep going, before I just take the damn hook and leave you behind.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Dave chuckled, holding the other close as he ran to the crate’s edge and jumped, hooking onto the next rail, sailing on to the next point.

“I told you to stop flattering me, asswipe.”

“Oh, but honey,” Dave spoke as they climbed up a hill in the rail, then swooping downward at an even faster velocity, “It’s just so, so hard not to. It’s just really, really hard to resist saying such sweet things to your little grumpy face.”

Karkat, then, said nothing but huffed in dissent, and continued to hang on tightly; he knew, for the rest of the journey through Skaia, that it was going to be if not a bumpy ride, a long, tiring one.

---

They continued on the rails, through the cities, passing ruined skyscrapers and towers with burned furniture and bodies, while below crowds gathered. Many spoke loudly enough for the duo to hear, and the words were alarming—they were coming together and collaborating, planning ways to search the nearby cities for the New Messiah; many were already gathering weapons—guns of gold and silver, swords of black and white—and after burying their dead, were becoming enraged and wanting answers. Karkat kept his eyes trained either on the sky, or on Dave’s shoulder, not having the heart and stomach to look down at the people he felt he had let down.

Often, a crate was spotted on the railings, and Dave made jumps to them, in order to slice them open and see what was inside. They eventually found a warm black and white blanket (which the Knight proceeded to teasingly wrap around the other, before putting it away with his other goods), an extra pair of shoes for Karkat, a golden gun (that neither were sure they would be able to use, but why not?), a small first-aid kit with multiple resources, including bandages, scissors, thread and a needle, and medicine, a tiny pillow, and wood and water jugs for fire and thirst.

The journey was quiet through the two-thirds of the gargantuan city, the boys making small conversation with one another, neither really having the energy to tease or banter extremely; Dave had to concentrate on sailing through the rails, Karkat having to make sure he held on tightly. Though neither commented on the small smiles they gave one another, the encouraging pats or squeezes as they made a tight turn, or went down a fast hill on the rails.

But it was when they were nearing the end that trouble came forth—on a platform on the rails, many of which had been scattered out through the city, and had been good resting points for the duo when it got too rough, stood multiple people in blue and white uniforms, with vocals that were loud in pitch and angry in sound.

“…Dave…” Karkat gave a warning tone as they came closer to the group of men, whose faces were flushed with rage (and possibly drink), and began gesturing towards them, “Dave, those guys look like really bad news…”

“I know. Hang on.”

It turned out to be the police—as they zoomed closer, it was clearly written on their uniforms in New Alternian—and their angry gestures soon were directed pointedly at the boys, and Dave began to pick up as much speed as possible, flying past them as they began to shout…

And then their guns came out.

“GO, GO, GO!” Karkat screamed, the police sending off shots and bullets breezing past their heads and ears, and Dave’s calm demeanor flew away and changed into unadulterated fear.

“SHIT.”

They zoomed past the platform, but this did not deter their pursuers; the police instead jumped onto the rails with their own skyhooks, guns still in their free hands, voices ringing out shouts of “INTRUDERS!” and “THIEVES!”, patience null and void after what had happened to their fair city.

Gunshots rang out, and with each bang Karkat dug his claws tighter into Dave’s red clothing, muttering words of fear and trepidation. They had no shields, no defense, and were completely relying on Dave’s speed to hopefully deter the men following them, and it seemed to work for some time—the human was smaller and could thus traverse the rails quicker, and was able to easily make turns onto other “streets” and could quickly climb the hills.

It seemed to be working…It seemed that the gunshots were mere warning shots, possibly not meant to kill completely, merely maim or strike fear in their hearts…

It seemed to be working until another gunshot rang out and Dave let out a scream of pain.

Instantly, the boys stopped moving, and Karkat’s head shot up—the thirteen year old’s free arm, the one that had been tightly around Karkat, had been shot, the shoulder bloody, the appendage limp, and Karkat would have fallen if he had not been gripping the other tightly with his legs and arms.

“SHIT!” The troll exclaimed, Dave merely groaning at the bullet lodged in his arm, instantly feeling weak from the wound, his body going into shock, for he had never experienced such pain before.

“…Ugh…Karkles…”

“C-Can you move? Dave? Dave?!” The candy-red blood male shook the other, but Dave merely bit his lip and winced; not far behind them, the police were catching up, some of them whooping in victory at the wound they had inflicted on the boy.

“Shit…Shit, shit, shit…” Karkat muttered, eyes darting about, trying to think of a plan, “Okay, okay, I can fix this, I can-“

Another gunshot sounded out, and this time, it was Dave’s leg that was hit, and he let out a scream, Karkat’s voice joining him in surprise and fear; Dave’s kneecap had been spared, but by mere inches, and the boy’s strength was fading fast, body shaking with shock.

“Okay, okay, hang on, hang on!” Karkat shouted, and he realized what he had to do; quickly, he wrapped his legs around Dave’s waist, holding him as tightly as possible, “Okay, just stay with me, I’ve got this-“

“Karkat…”

“You’ll be fine, I’ve got you, okay? We’ll get out of here, screw these guys-“

“Karkat, I’m really sorry…”

“For what? Heh, you’ve done nothing wrong-“ The troll responded with a shaky voice, face smiling in trepidation, hands twitching with fear as they grabbed the skyhook, having already grabbed Dave’s injured arm, and slung it around his own neck, “Just grip me a little bit, o-okay? I got you, my legs are around you. We’re doing fine, we got a moment, we-“

“I’m sorry…I ain’t been good enough, really…”

“…What?”

A pause, Dave taking in a painful breath of air as more gun shots rang out, barely missing their bodies,

“I keep letting you down…First Terezi, now this…No idea seems to work…really well…You deserve better than this…”

Karkat remained silent, shocked at the words, but he shook himself out of his reprieve long enough to finally unlatch the skyhook from Dave’s hand, and to quickly situate it on his own, while holding the human’s uninjured hand in his own.

“Just shut up. We’re going to be fine, Strider. You’re just delirious.”

“’m not…You really do deserve better…I can’t…I…”

“I said. SHUT. UP.” Karkat shouted, latching his hand onto the rail not a second later, gripping Dave with his legs, and pushing off backwards down the rail; he held Dave close with his free hand, the weight of the other difficult to balance and keep a hold on, but pure adrenaline and fear was rushing through his veins, and Karkat knew he had to keep going. The police were in his vision, and he couldn’t see what was coming up ahead of him on the rail, but he needed it to be that way for what he was planning, and what would hopefully work.

“Where’s the gun?”

“Mm…” Dave’s weak voice reached his ears after a moment.

“Dave, where’s the gun? Stay awake, Strider, I need you to stay awake. You’re gonna be fine!”

“Pants.”

“Can you hold onto me? At all?”

The blond did not respond, but there was a silent tightening of his hand around Karkat’s neck and the other took that as a sign of affirmation; quickly, the troll moved his free hand and reached into Dave’s pants (the boy must have been truly weak, for he did not even crack a joke about that), pulling out his sylladex; as fast as he could, Karkat flipped through the pages and found the gun, bringing it out, and putting the sylladex away.

“I sure as hell hope I can use this…” He muttered, eyeing the five men in front of him, whose distance on the rails was closing in on their own; as confident as he could be, Karkat raised the weapon, putting the crosshairs and his sight on the nearest man….

And after pressing the trigger, Karkat said a little prayer of hope…

And the bullet hit its mark, the chest of the officer before them blossoming with red, the man letting out a scream of pain; a sadistic, miniscule part of Karkat’s mind leapt for joy—and shouted internally that they should have never underestimated the boys, and should have been shooting to kill all along (okay, maybe that was a bit of a stretch, but…)

The injured officer’s grip was lost, and he plummeted to the streets below, the men in his crew flabbergasted at the unusual turn of events; maybe it had been divine intervention, maybe it had been just pure, stupid luck, but Karkat kept going, and aimed his gun at the next man in their sights, praying it would be another successful shot—and it was. This time, he had hit the next man’s arm, and he had tumbled along on the rail, until eventually falling off onto another platform, injured and licking his wound.

“HAH!” Karkat shouted into the air, Dave a quiet rock in his leg-lock hold, “COME ON, YOU SONS OF BITCHES, I’M THE ONE YOU WANT ANYWAY!”

The police sped up, their guns aimed onto Karkat now, realizing the battle had taken a fatal turn ages ago; but they were not quick enough—full of testosterone and adrenaline, full of strength, the Vantas boy pressed on and shot off bullet after bullet from the chamber. Some shots missed, because he was taking less time to aim, and more time to fight back and duck and avoid any and all shots coming his way. But some shots hit their mark, Karkat realizing he had a knack for firearms despite never even thinking of using them in his lifetime.

They sailed through the city, citizens on the ground now noticing the commotion in the skies above. Karkat kept his concentration on the police still following him and Dave—there were three remaining thus far, but others were running to the nearest skyways and rails and jumping onto them, in order to stop the boys. The troll let loose more gunshots, maiming an officer in the knee, another in the chest, and realized then and there that he was running out of bullets.

“Shit, shit…” Quickly, Karkat turned to face the way he was traveling; they were almost at the edge of the city, which explained the increased police presence. They were running out of time and out of bullets, and the Vantas knew he had to think fast.

Thankfully, the meteors had done them some good—towards the edge of the city, one had blundered into the rails at the border of Skaia, knocking them off their normal course, and destroying some of them in the process. The rail Karkat currently slid on had been hit—but had been turned so that it exited over the city wall but not to the ground, but into the nearby woods.

It was their last chance, and what with Dave still bleeding out badly, they needed to take it.

With three bullets left, Karkat fired off the first, hitting an officer in the knee, and causing him to fall off course. The second left the chamber, and completely missed its intended target—a man’s face.

Full of power and rage, his blood boiling inside and out, Karkat turned to the others still following them, and grinned maliciously—they needed to know who he really was, after all, and a vindictive part of him—the part of him rooting for victory, the part of him angry for the harm that had come to Dave—laughed at how foolish the Skaians had been, not realizing they had had the New Messiah in their sights all along, not just some ordinary street-rat taking advantage of a bad situation.

“THIS IS WHAT YOU GET FOR DISHONORING THE NEW MESSIAH, YOU FUCKING REJECTS. THIS IS WHAT YOU GET FOR DISHONORING THE SIGNLESS, AND THIS IS WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO YOU NOW THAT YOU HAVE HARMED SOMEONE WITH ME!”

The words were carried on the air, and those below gazed up at them, some gasping in emotional pain, some crying out in anger and disgust; even the Sisters who had thrown off their veils and had thus been marching in the streets stood stock still as they gazed up at Karkat’s screeching form. All below who had the troll and human in their sights could see his anger and disgust with the people below, and how they had come to believe they were better than others, and that some child—a child!—deserved to be murdered just because his birth herald the end. And though a part of Karkat still believed he deserved this pain and deserved a great deal of tragedy for what had happened here, he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Dave did not.

He let out the final gunshot, and it struck one of the officers in the face, the man screaming in agony and falling to his death, just as Karkat and Dave sailed over the city wall, and collided into the trees.

Leaves flew up into the air around them, Karkat still sailing on the rail as it careened into the trees; eventually, the metal touched down on the ground, and both males fell off the skyway, tumbling into the grass as the troll’s legs gave out, Dave falling beside him.

Panting and out of breath, Karkat sat up, surprised at the volatile rage that he had been holding in for some time; he ran a hand through his hair, eyes wide, gun smoking and tossed to the side. He was in a state of disbelief, for he had just killed multiple men out of rage—but also out of protection, really. And for revenge, too; his protective instincts had immediately been born the second Dave had been shot, and he had had only one mission in his heart—get out of the city and keep the other alive. The mission had stirred something within him, and had made him want to keep fighting, keep going. It brought out an unusual anger within him, a side of which Karkat had never had—but he liked it somewhat. He liked it when it was appropriate, as was the case now.

“Shit, Dave-“ Karkat woke himself up from his thoughts once he pondered the Strider boy, even if he was still in shock, and he ran to the other’s side, “Dave, Dave, say something!”

“Ugh…” The other groaned as the troll helped him sit up.

“We have to move. We can’t stay here.” The five-sweeps old troll could hear the Skaians rallying from behind them, realizing what had exactly happened, and soon enough they would be on their tail.

“…’Kay…”

“Come on, I’ve got you.” With wobbly legs, the red-blooded boy stood, helping Dave up with a strong hold on his waist, and his injured arm around Karkat’s shoulder; they began to shuffle as quickly as they could through the trees and the underbrush, and they didn’t stop—not for a second. Karkat knew they had to keep moving, because eventually the Skaians would keep searching and searching for them; but if they kept moving, they could throw them off the trail.

So they hustled and jumped and moved through the greenery, not stopping even when Karkat felt out of breath, or when Dave groaned due to the wounds on his body; into the afternoon they kept moving, stopping for drinks of water every so often that lasted merely seconds. And soon enough, night rose high in the sky, Alternia’s two moons coming out, and the stars began to twinkle and say hello to those below.

It was then, finally, after hours of walking, that Karkat decided they could stop—and stop they did.

---

After having passed through the woods, the terrain had turned rocky and barren; only a few dead trees remained, some of them having burned tips and branches due to being close to falling meteors from before. Karkat had picked out the best spot possible to halt their steps and tend to Dave’s wounds—wounds that had bleed for a while, but Karkat had stopped previously, when they drank a few handfuls of water to sate thirst from the exertion of fast walking, and bandaged them temporarily.

Now, he helped the Strider boy sit, who had been awake the entire journey to his rocky terrain, but quiet, groaning in pain off and on.

“Are you hanging in there?” Karkat’s voice was soft as he helped Dave sit up straight.

“I’ve been better, Kitten…Nnh…”

“Just try and relax. The wounds weren’t fatal, obviously, so you’ll be fine.”

“Great…Just great…” The human huffed, but then sighed as Karkat began to dig around in their sylladexes; he knew it must have been fate that they found that doctor’s kit, because it would certainly come in handy now.

“I’m going to need to take off your shirt, Strider. And then your pants.”

“You don’t know how often I’ve dreamed of you saying those words, Vantas.” The other laughed softly, but Karkat merely rolled his eyes as he came closer, grabbing the hem of Dave’s upper clothes, gently lifting his Knightly top off his body, tossing it aside. Dave’s pale hair matched the pale skin now revealed to him, a few freckles dotted here and there across his shoulders and chest. His abdomen muscles were not clearly defined, but were still visible and could be touched if desired.

His shoulder, though, was a mess—blood had dripped down his arm and was now dried, the small bullet hole still obvious, red, and quite a disgusting mess. Thankfully, the round, metallic slug had missed major muscles, clear by the twitch of Dave’s fingers due to nerves, his arm muscles themselves shaking just a bit.

“Just try and sit back, and I’ll see what I can do.”

“You ever removed a bullet?”

“No, but I’ve seen Kanaya and my Sisters do it. It was the Capital city, after all. Sometimes we had to help the wounded,” Karkat spoke as he began cleaning Dave’s shoulder with the few antiseptic cloths they had, “It wasn’t a pretty sight, but I’m glad I never looked away. I figured that eventually, if I ever took over the church with Kanaya, I’d have to help her.”

“…Do you still—ah!—want to help her when all this shit is done?” Dave questioned as the other finished cleaning, and was now gently moving his arm to get a better look at it against the fire Karkat had started to keep them warm, and to light up the area.

“…I don’t know. Maybe.” Slowly, Karkat picked up the tweezers, gently pressing them into the wound after cleaning them, searching out the bullet, “A part of me does, but…”

“But—EGH!—what?”

Karkat was silent for a moment, concentrating on slowly extracting the slug from Dave’s arm, centimeter by centimeter, doing his best to make sure the other was not in too much pain; once he believed he could split his concentration in two places (and he had a sufficient answer), he spoke,

“Part of me is figuring I’ll be dead anyway by the end of this, but…if I’m not…I guess I would kind of like to travel more around the world. And yeah, yeah, I know, I’m getting a hell of a lot of travel in right now. But…I mean more to travel and help people. Fix some of the damage that’s happened…I don’t know, it sounds stupid-“

“It’s not stupid, Kitten. You’re crazy if you think that’s stupid of you to say.” Dave snorted, whimpering as the other finally removed the bullet, tossing it to the side, “I…H-Hell, I don’t know what I’ll do after all of this.”

“You mean besides spending all that money?”

Another snort, “Look, man, I…If by some miracle I get that money from Maryam, I…I don’t know what I’ll do with it. Or what I’ll do in general. Maybe I’d go back to Tixia, but there really ain’t anything left for me there…” Silence, for a moment, then, “If you go…somewhere…after this…and we’re both alive…maybe…uh…”

“…Yeah?” Karkat prodded as he threaded the needle he would use to stitch the other up with.

“Could I come with you?”

“…Really?”

“S-Sure, I mean…well…” He could not say that Karkat was probably one of the closest and realist friends he had in his life, and one of the nearest friends, too. Sure, John and Jade were his friends, but they were far, far away, and Rose was…Rose, “Why not? Could be fun. We could do things—like get shot at and you heroically save my life. And it’s not like I have an actual, physical home to go back to now, right?”

“…I…guess?” Karkat’s ears twitched in embarrassment, his face heating up; he had not expected such a question from the Knight, “I guess you could…I mean, as long as you don’t do something stupid.”

“Never, man, never, heh. But… I just want to say that-“

“L-Look, we can talk about this later. For now,” Karkat had speedily interrupted him, “Just bite down on this-“ He handed the blond a rag, “and just try and stay still. I’m not going to be good at this, but it’ll help the wound heal faster. Okay?”

Dave merely nodded, placing the rag in his mouth as Karkat got to work; it was indeed painful, the human whimpering often as the needle and thread dug into his flesh. But slowly, inch by inch, the wound was being closed. And as painful as it was, Dave’s hidden eyes never left the other’s face, whose expression was soft, but full of concentration. It was sympathetic, it was kind, and it was…not how Karkat usually looked at the other— or was it? Now that Dave thought about it, Karkat’s eyes were trained on him nine times out of ten, and though they were usually filled with anger, rage, disbelief…there was kindness sometimes behind them. Or a type of exasperated fondness, at least. Sometimes it was a sort of unusual exasperated fondness, but not a type that that was unwanted.

And here, now, Karkat’s face was one of compassion, of alliance and friendship, and some part of Dave’s heart sped up at the stupid idea that the troll cared—truly cared.

“Why are you watching me like that?”

The question caused Dave to blink, and he removed the rag temporarily to comment back.

“How do you know I’m watching you? Shades, remember?”

“I can just tell when it comes to you. What else would you be fucking staring at, anyway?”

Dave was silent for some time as the other finished up the stitches on his arm, “Just…like watching you, I guess.”

“…Right…” Whereas one would expect a witty retort, none came; possibly because the troll was too drained of energy, or he just did not wish to do so.

“You know, when I’ve imagined us playing doctor, it actually didn’t involve major medical treatment.” Dave smirked at the other, who just snorted delicately.

“Shut up, Strider. And I guess I don’t have too much to worry about if you’re still making jokes.”

”It’s when I’m quiet that you have to worry about me being dead, Kitten.”

The troll shook his head, and gave the other a smile; neither could pinpoint when the conversation between them turned friendly, kinder, and possibly even more intimate, but it had; neither would comment on it, and instead, Karkat turned to the other’s arm once more, coating it in a clear gel of medicine, and wrapping it up in a bandage.

“There. You can put your shirt back on now, and we’ll take a look at it again in the morning. But you should be fine, and I can take the stitches out in a few days.”

“Whatever you say, Doc.”

The duo worked Dave’s upper clothing back on, and then proceeded to work off his pants; the wound here was of the same caliber—bloody, a hole, and painful—but again, nothing that could not be handled. Karkat went through the previous steps once more—clean the wound, wipe away the blood, use tweezers to retrieve the bullet, and begin stitching.

He took his time, hands resting on the boy’s skin with the softness of a kiss; and when they worked, fingers were nimble, acrobatic, and Dave found his eyes never leaving Karkat’s form—half due to admiration, half due to surprise, and a very, very miniscule (or so he told himself) part finding the motions attractive and easy on the eyes and mind to watch.

“You’re pretty amazing…you know that?”

Karkat’s head shot up at the question, and both boys found themselves blushing—even Dave, who wasn’t sure where the statement-question had come from. The gray-skinned male could not even respond, and instead blinked, unsure of what to say.

“I…I…”

“R-Really, you…you are…” Dave continued, because why the hell not? He had already embarrassed himself earlier today, why not add more wood to the pyre? “I…If you had gotten shot, I’d have been pretty fucking useless…R-Right now, you’re just amazing-“

“Do you have a fever? Because you sound delirious. No, you sound delusional, hallucinatory, and delirious all in one sweet, scary package.”

“I just…I wanted you to know that I think that…I-I mean-“

“W-Well-“

“Really, you were amazing back there…amazing with the gun, amazing when you screamed at those people, amazing when-“

“Please stop using the word ‘amazing’, Strider!” Karkat barked back, eyes pinched close out of embarrassment, his mind trying to will away the heat on his face.

“I-I just…Uh…”

“It was really just luck, okay? I didn’t know what I was doing, I was going on instincts-“

“Then I really, really love your fucking instincts-“

“Oh God, SHUT UP!”

“Okay, maybe ‘love’ is a strong way to put it, but I mean—UMPH!”

Karkat had hurriedly crawled over to the other, straddled his thighs, and shoved the rag from earlier into his windhole; instantly, Dave was silenced, and Karkat’s shaky voice sung out into the night,

“When I tell you to s-shut up, do so, o-okay?” He was ragged and tired, and red as a beet, and Dave’s mind instantly went to the word ‘adorable’, which scared his spirit and his heart to near-death.

But he let it slide off his shoulders, off his body, and went with the flow, remaining cool even though Karkat was in his personal space, and was tiredly resting his forehead against his own; the troll’s shoulders sagged with fatigue, and a final loss of will and strength, and he muttered out,

“What am I going to do with you, Strider?”

Unable to verbally respond, Dave gave a half-shrug with his good shoulder, and a muffled chuckle escaped his lips.

“Seriously…You’ve been giving me so many headaches, it isn’t fucking funny…” Karkat ended his statement with a sigh, the duo’s foreheads still touching, a sign of camaraderie and togetherness, and neither made a motion of dislike, or wanting it to stop.

The gray one’s orbs closed, Dave still watching him from behind his shades for some time, enjoying the silence and peace that existed in their small little bubble. The night air was chilly on his bare legs, and he didn’t want to think about how intimate the pose they were in was—Dave, half naked, down to his skivvies, with Karkat sitting atop his most private area (had the fact hit the other yet? Most likely not), resting against him with barely any strength left in his young bones due to the long and adventurous day they had gone through. In his loins, he could feel a stirring, and Dave silently willed his body to relax—why would it even find Karkat attractive on a physical level…?

…But when the other opened his eyes, staring right into Dave’s even through the shades, the answer came to him like a spark in the night, and the teenager found himself softly gasping at the revelation.

Because the question was not how could he be physically attracted to Karkat….

It was how could he not be…?

But he kept it inward, and kept it as silent as possible—instead, he reached out to touch the troll’s cheek as a friendly gesture, and nodded downward towards his half-finished leg.

“…R-Right. Sorry. Uh-“ Karkat’s face flushed bright red once again, probably at him realizing how he was sitting on the other, and he hurriedly got off Dave to move farther away. With the needle in his hand once more, the stitches were completed in absolute silence.

“There…Good as almost fucking new.”

“…T-Thanks.” Dave’s voice was croaky, and he found himself clearing his throat, “…So…”

“We can sleep in those caves over there.” Karkat pointed, standing after cleaning up and putting away the medical supplies; he leaned down afterwards, and helped the other to his feet. Though his leg was injured and not great for walking on, the Strider was able to slowly move across the land, leaning on the other just a bit—and he certainly didn’t mind.

They came to the entrance of the cavern before them, the cavities in the earth spread out far and wide, and they would have to traverse through them come morning, but for now, they would slumber. Karkat took out the blanket they had recovered from Skaia, and wrapped it around Dave, despite having a thin frame and even thinner clothing.

“…Thanks…But come here.”

“What?”

Dave did not answer him, and instead scooted closer to Karkat, who had laid down on the cold, rocky gravel; turning slowly onto his side, the human moved and threw the blanket over the both of them, the human arranging his body until he was mostly on his side, head resting on the other’s chest, while Karkat remained on his back.

“Uh…” Said troll spoke up, “This is…different.”

“Yep.”

“Are you sure-“

“Yep.”

Even though Dave expected the troll to argue, throw a fit, and even toss him outside of the cave at the gesture and the close position they were in, nothing happened. Instead, Karkat sighed, and moved an arm around, resting it on Dave’s bad shoulder, holding him close.

Neither questioned it, because neither wanted to break the spell that had settled over them; Dave, being one to never turn down his hedonistic side, chose not to speak up and question Karkat’s motion, and instead closed his eyes—sleep taking over almost immediately.

And Karkat knew better than to ask himself what he was doing; it was bad to do so, and would have caused him a painful migraine. Of course, he knew part of the reason why he had done what he did, said what he said—feelings. Annoying, distracting feelings that he needed to push aside for the greater good and ignore…even if it was difficult with Dave curled up right beside him, smiling in his sleep.

Feelings.

Feelings just caused problems—all kinds of problems.

But as he started down at the human, sleep unable to come to him right away, a half smile came to Karkat’s face, and he realized something suicidal and painful:

Feelings caused all kinds of problems—but that didn’t mean he couldn’t secretly enjoy them.

And that night, after everything they had been through during the day, he certainly, without a doubt, did enjoy them.

Chapter Text

Six

Blessed be the Confused

Karkat awoke uncomfortably—and it wasn’t because he was lying the cold, hard ground. It had nothing to do with the rocks poking at his thighs, or the coldness of the stone slabs beneath his head.

No, as his mind cleared the fog of sleep from his mind, his body having moved during the night to where he was now lying on his side, he felt uncomfortable due to the fact that…there was something…something…poking him from behind.

And now that he was blinking himself awake, and realizing he had changed positions during the night, he realized another fact—Dave Strider was curled up behind him, the human’s chest to Karkat’s back, and bony, pubescent arms wrapped around the troll’s waist.

This was not the position the Vantas boy wanted to be in—it certainly was awkward, it certainly was improper, and it certainly was invasive, if the…object poking Karkat from behind was any sort of clue.

“…Strider.” Karkat grounded out the other’s name, hoping to stir him from his slumber.

“Mmn…” Dave, unfortunately, did not respond to the call, and instead snuggled closer to the other, burying his face in the troll’s neck.

“….STRIDER!” Patience having worn thin years ago, Karkat elbowed the other (somewhat) gently in the stomach, shouting his name louder, “Wake up, asshole!”

“Mmn? What…?”

“What’s poking me?”

The human grumbled, “How the fuck should…I know…” A yawn, “Probably a pen or…stalactite…stalagmite...I dunno…”

“Strider. What. Is. POKING ME?”

Silence came forth after the elder’s question, and slowly, but surely, Dave began to understand the question, and was able to register his own body’s physical reactions.

“….Oh. Oh shit-“

“Yeah, asshole. Want to tell me what that is?”

“Uh-“ Hurriedly, Dave’s arms released the troll’s body, and he scooted back, “Look man, that’s just…well hell, you’ve heard of morning wood, right?”

“Fuck no, I haven’t heard of morning wood! What is that?”

“Shit, trolls don’t get that? You know…where you get…uh…excited in your sleep?”

“….”

“Stop looking at me like I’ve grown three heads, Vantas. It’s…uh…I-It’s a normal reaction! I’m a growing teenage boy! I have needs. Desires. Fantasies. Weird, unortho-fucking-dox things that trolls wouldn’t get.”

Karkat scrunched up his face, eyes trying to avoid the…sight...that was prevalent on the lower half of the Strider boy, “It’s disgusting.”

“Oh come on, trolls never wake up wanting the hanky-panky?”

That only caused the older boy’s eyes to grow exponentially large, his face flushing a bright cherry red, and Karkat reached onto the cave floor to grab a stone, and throw it at the other, shouting,

“TAKE CARE OF THAT SHIT! NOW! IT’S DISGUSTING, AND I WOKE UP WITH IT POKING ME IN THE ASS!”

“O-Oh, shit--“ Dave barely ducked the rock in time, “Look, shit, just calm down-“

“DON’T YOU TELL ME TO FUCKING CALM DOWN! YOU DIDN’T WAKE UP WITH MY DICK RAMMED UP YOUR WASTE CHUTE, NOW DID YOU?!”

That statement caused the human to turn red, clearly remembering what had caused the sexual reaction in the first place,

“L-Look, man, I’ll just…uh…I’ll just go and take some private time, okay?”

“Fuck, human anatomy is just unbelievable…” Karkat grumbled to himself, standing up to brush off his clothes, and shiver at the freakish turn of events, “And YES. GO TAKE CARE OF THAT! PLEASE!” His statement ending in a snarl, fangs showing just how uncomfortable and annoyed he really was; unfortunately, Dave, having woken up from an intimate dream that involved snarling in a different context, shivered inappropriately, tried to brush it off with a casual, but too-big smile, and shakily stood on his legs, the injury still causing him to wince in pain.

“Don’t suppose you’ll help me out of the cave, huh…?”

Karkat merely growled again, and Dave took the hint, nodding; they had managed to salvage some sticks from the night before, from the wood pile, and he took the biggest extra piece of timber that he could find, using it as a cane to help him limp out of the cavern.

Slowly, the human made his way back to the rocky terrain they had escaped from, and flung himself down in front of one of the barren trees; the sun was just rising in the hills in the distance, the orange and yellow tips touching the hills with gentile fingers, their greenery and blackness coming to life. Far in the past, and past the dead trees around him, Skaia’s burned out structure stood proud, but there was no sign of imminent life in the place; nor were there persons hunting about for their scalps, which was a relief as well.

Panting, Dave stared down at his body, at the prominent erection, and cursed himself; he couldn’t help himself—it wasn’t as if he had dreamed of Karkat on purpose…

Sad enough, it was not even a dream. He knew—without a shadow of a doubt—that it had been another timeline, in another universe.

In another universe, he was in a romantic relationship with Karkat Vantas.

“Nnh…”

Cautiously , Dave looked over towards the caves again—Karkat was huffing and puffing , stomping around the entrance in frustration. The albino couldn’t blame him. If he had woken up to Karkat’s dick poking him, he sure would be confused…maybe not violated…but…well. Unsure. Stressed out. Pacing back and forth adorably—wait.

“Shit…Okay, okay…Focus, Strider.” He wasn’t sure what the five-sweeps old troll would do if he took too long; would he come over and yell? Would he awkwardly grab his sex organ and furiously touch it? And shit, why was that appealing?

Dave ran a hand through his bangs, head falling back against the tree; he steadied his breath, in and out, his hand rubbing red cheeks, and his good arm eventually turning loose and limber, so nimble fingers could slide underneath his pants and boxers and grip his member while he gasped, eyes fluttering closed.

He willed his mind to relax, hand slowly pumping up and down, the heat and friction already an amazing relief to his pent-up self; he tried to will his mind to think about anything—anything—other than the troll with him, but he could not help it. Karkat’s angry face came to his mind, and he let out a small groan…

And then his mind turned toward what he had been dreaming about it, which just made things so much better, yet so much worse…

Dave, in a black and white suit, a suit that still had the Sigil of the Knights of Time on the lapel, sat by the fire in the woods; silently, he reached over and touched the other’s hair, the poufy, fluffy black locks still soft despite the humidity, not too greasy despite the unusual bathing schedule they had—aka, whenever they could find a suitable body of water.

“What the fuck are you doing?” It wasn’t said with any bite, and Karkat merely looked over with a skeptical eyebrow raise, and a half smirk dancing on his lips.

“Touching your hair, duh.”

“Yeah, but why? I haven’t washed it in a few days.”

“Mmn…But it’s still soft.” Dave couldn’t help but grin as he watched the troll’s eyes close somewhat, a soft purr of contentment escaping his black lips, “Besides, I like your hair.”

“It’s overgrown, Strider.”

“Uh, so is mine?”

Karkat snorted, “Yours is fine, despite us being at this for a few weeks. Mine looks like a bush.”

Dave was silent for a moment, and then scooted closer to the other, so he could softly whisper, and Dirk and Jake, and Rose and Kanaya, would not hear from the other side of the large, circular encampment,

“I like bushes, you know…”

“Uh-huh.” The troll merely rolled his eyes as the human dipped his head into the crook of Karkat’s neck; but once Dave started pressing soft, butterfly kisses onto his skin, his rocky, angry voice turned soft, and little mewls escaped his throat.

“Mmhm…” Dave murmured in assent, kissing every inch of skin his lips could reach, his left hand still tangled in the other’s hair; fingers gently pulled, knowing Karkat liked just a pinch of roughness, and if the gasps the other let out told him anything, he knew was doing the right thing. Callused tips roamed towards the troll’s candy-corn horns, and once they touched the tips of them—where most of Karkat’s nerve endings were, due to the structures being so small—the other let out a moan, fully-red eyes (the troll’s maturity having come early) closing.

“Dave…”

“Shh…”

“Do we have time…f-for this? Ah, shit-“

The human bit down lightly on a patch of skin, sucking, while using his free hand to pull the troll closer.

“Don’t we always?”

“K-Kanaya and the others might hear, and-“

“Then shh….Just relax, Karkat…”

Another moan, and Karkat turned, opening his legs up just a bit more, to allow the Strider boy to slide in between them; a breathy laugh came forth, his voice warbling with desire,

“W-Why did I even let you take my fucking virginity in the first place?” He said it with a dazed smile, Dave’s lips still wetly trailing down his neck until they reached the end of his neck; once there, the human brushed back a bit of cloth to tenderly give the same treatment to Karkat’s collarbone.

“Because I let you take mine, duh.”

“F-Funny….Oh-“

“Yeah…You know I love it when you make that little clicking noise, right?”

Karkat whimpered, “It’s a natural tr-troll reaction, you ass…I can’t help it…It’s nothing special, every troll…ah…every troll does it…”

Dave’s voice was hoarser, pulling his face back in order to look at the other’s expression, and to gently push him to the ground more easily, murmuring all the while,

“That doesn’t mean I can’t love it…Or that little whimper you give whenever I kiss your pulse-“

“Nnh…S-Shut up…”

Dave unbuttoned and took off his black jacket, white shirt still on underneath,

“Or when you scream when I just oh-so-happen to lick your horns…Or the expression when you come-“

“God, Dave-“

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m a sex God-“

Karkat snorted, “I was going to say, ‘God, Dave, can’t you just fucking shut up’?” The troll laid back against the dirt, hand flung over his face and blocking one eye, but he was smiling—actually smiling—and there was even a hint of a laugh dancing on his lips,

“I know, I know…Shut up and get on with it…” Dave leaned over the other, until their noses were nearly touching, “Someone’s an impatient troll.”

“Says the teenage boy with a boner poking me.”

“Says the teenage troll with a hard bone-bulge poking ME.”

Karkat’s face flushed a bright red, and the human could only smirk; sneakily, his right hand was caressing the other’s inner thighs, so close to the engorged anatomical part, and though they were soft, Dave could still hear the other’s tiny vocal pleas.

“You are so…fucking beautiful, Karkat…”

“Shut up…”

“You are…You think I’d do this with just any short, angry troll? You drive me crazy…”

“Nnh…Dave…W-Wait.”

The human had moved his head back further, but one of the Vantas’ hands came out, and gently gripped his cheek.

“Hmm? What is it, babe?”

“Can you take them off again? Please?”

Silence for a moment, the Strider having a half smile on his face; though he was trying to play it cool, the question always caused him to feel like a young school boy all over again.

“I-I don’t know why you need me to…”

“I want you to…Please…” A drop of silence, then, “I like it when I can see them.”

An overly dramatic sigh followed, and Dave reached up, gripping his shades and gently tossing them to the side; bright red orbs revealed themselves, and Karkat found himself smiling, despite any and all attempts to stop himself.

“Why do you like them so much? Hell, with these eyes, I got paper-balls and rubber bands thrown at me by other kids.”

“They’re beautiful…” The troll whispered, claws still softly resting on the human’s cheek.

“Psh. Yours are better.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope. Your eyes win, no question, end of story, everyone go home.” Dave rambled on, not noticing that the troll was pulling his face closer to Karkat’s own, “Vantas Eyes—number one, endorsed by Strider Incorporated, forever and always, and—Mmph….Mmm…”

Their lips met, Dave’s words being silenced as he slowly kissed the other, letting Karkat take over the kiss, who was inclined to keep it slow and sensual; his hands rested on the troll’s chest, fingers sneakily finding the edges of his shirt after a few moments, slithering under the fabric to touch firm, smoky skin.

“Mmn…When I tell you to shut up, you shut up. Got it?” Karkat questioned after a moment, his breath ghosting over the other’s lips due to the constant closeness; Dave could only nod, his eyes lidded, lips red and wet from the kiss.

A breathy voice came forth, “Yes, Sir.” He leaned in again to kiss, hands teasing over Karkat’s stomach as the other wrapped his legs around the human’s waist.

Clothes flew off in a hurry, and soon enough they were still lip locked, the fireworks of skin-on-skin bombarding their young brains and senses; Karkat’s gasps filled Dave’s ears as the human’s hips bucked against the troll’s lower body, while Karkat’s gray hands scrambled for purchase on the pale human’s freckled back. There were sure to be red welts tomorrow morning, and neither cared—each time it happened, the Strider boy would (jokingly) complain loud and long enough until Karkat would turn onto his side, and kiss each cut, his hands caressing the other’s nipples with care as well.

“Dave, Dave…I…”

“Yeah, that’s it, baby…move just like that…”

“Oh God…Oh God, I can’t—Dave…Dave, I-“

The real Dave’s eyes flew open, for his dream had ended there, but there was no need for more; his mind having supplied a powerful image, a powerful, other reality, was enough for his body, and his hand was coated in white, a soft moan escaping his lips.

“K-Karkat….Nnh…”

The teenager groaned; his body had shot up at his orgasm, but it now deflated back against the hard bark of the tree. Slowly, he removed his hand, staring at the remains of what had been a…truly amazing, even if just a bit scary, dream.

There were no tissues or cloths in his pocket, so the human resorted to wiping the clear and white substance on the ground and the tree beside him; he surely couldn’t go back to Karkat with that on his hands-

And oh God, Karkat…Cautiously, Dave glanced over at the other, who was still pacing impatiently in front of the cave; he seemed to be poking at the miniature purple and green phone he usually kept in his sylladex. Though they never got service, in rare downtime, he always tried to see if it would work, and if he could reach Kanaya. But because they were in the middle of, yes, nowhere, it wouldn’t work, and his face was adorably scrunched up in frustration.

Dave sighed, watching the other from his secret position; he couldn’t blame his other self—in another place and time—for falling for the other. Looking at it now…he was pretty sure it would be hard not to care for Karkat on some base level, and it would be very hard to not find him attractive.

Truly, why had he not seen it before? There was a base level of attractiveness there; and it wasn’t just because his irises were slowly filling up with red color and there were light black and brown specks in the irises as well, highlighted against the yellow background of his eyes; it wasn’t just that his hair was so soft, comparable to cotton, or that his horns looked like candy; or that his unusual gauntness and thinness and his skin were appealing, even if he had not filled out and come into his body yet. It was the fact that all of that, combined with a surprising personality, that made Dave pull himself towards the other like a magnet. His fiery temper was like a volcano, but in his quietest moments, Karkat was like the serene ocean that a being could drown themselves in, and yet feel safe at the same time.

He would—forever and always—put others above himself. Some would interject that it was because of who his father was, and who he was to become, but Dave knew it was more than that. It was ingrained in him—a powerful sensation that others deserved happiness, even at his own sacrifice. He would put himself down to lift up others; he would get on bended knee and die just to make sure others were alive. And when the other person did it for him, Karkat would interject, and fight to make sure the other person lived—because they deserved it, while he did not. Even in other timelines, he did not find himself beautiful, and he certainly did not here; and something akin to a flame sprung up in the Strider at that fact, and he wanted to show the other how wrong he was; how he had his own beauty, his own grace and majesty—a grace that extended far beyond the religious contexts he was in.

It all went farther than Dave’s hedonistic side; the pleasure—the attraction—had a base sensuality that he wished to self-indulge in, and even sitting here against the tree, his loins stirred with a prepubescent-lust, but there was more to it than that—there was an inner attraction that called to him, something nameless, but something powerful.

But indulging himself in thoughts was a waste of time, because he knew that the longer he was out here, the angrier the troll in the cave became. So quickly, Dave wiped the last of the fluids from his hands, fixed his pants, and wobbled over to the other on his makeshift cane.

“Are you finished?” Karkat spat as a greeting, and the human did his best to shrug as casually possible.

“Dunno. I think if you’re willing to help, I could be up for round two-“ Dave smirked as the other nearly lunged, trying to grab the timber under his arm as retaliation for the statement, “Kidding, kidding! You need to learn to take a joke.”

“Yeah, well, when you end up with MY sexual organ poking you in the early hours of the morning, YOU can take the joke for me, okay?”

“I’d rather take something else.” Was the murmur that came forth accidentally while Dave stared, unconsciously, at the other’s derriere, and when Karkat whipped around to give him a perplexed grimace, after having decided to venture forward with or without Dave, the human immediately shut his mouth and moved his eyes.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.”

“…”

“Uh. Really. Nothing. Or maybe it was a rap lyric? You know I like to just randomly spout that shit, man. Keeps me sane while we’re out here.”

“You keep saying you’re sane, but I never got that doctor’s memorandum about that declaration. And isn’t the definition of fucking insanity that you do the same thing over and over again—in this case, claim to be sane—and expect different results—again, in this case, me believing you—each time?”

“Ooh, nice burn, Vantas. Maybe you should come over here and put some cream on me—AGH.”

“You deserved that rock to the forehead, you asshole. Now move it.” Karkat huffed, stomping forward into the caverns that awaited them, not even bothering to glance back at his companion to see if he was alright—which, he was, even if there was a red welt on his forehead from where the stone had hit him.

“You know, a really nice person would walk with me, since, you know, I’m kinda handicapped a bit here.”

“Too bad I’m not a nice person, Strider.”

Dave whined as he followed the other, albeit at a snail’s pace; as their steps increased, the darkness became greater and greater by the second, and soon enough, Dave’s shades were more of a hindrance to him than assistance. The ground became more gravelly and little pebbles slid underneath their shoes, the cane underneath Dave’s arm steadily holding him as best as it could—which wasn’t a great amount. But soon enough, when it had not even been five minutes, the boy could not see—and neither could the troll. For when Dave bumped into the other with an “oof”, they started up conversation again.

“S’ kinda dark, isn’t it?”

“No shit, dumbass. It’s a fucking cave. Or maze of caves.”

“Got any ideas? Can trolls see in the dark?”

A sigh, “Not necessarily. We kind of can, but….”

“Not that well?”

“Unfortunately. It’s not something we’re proud of. It’s probably because not all trolls grew up in caverns and went through the trials of wrigglers like they do on other planets. You know, actually having parents and constantly living in society changes the body structure.”

“Then what do you want to do?”

Silence came forth for a moment, until the human heard the troll give a hum of thought; there was a rustling noise, a ping as Karkat took out his sylladex, and soon white light filled the corridor of rock.

“You gonna use that as a flashlight?”

“No. Just be patient for one damn second.”

Something was removed from the sylladex, though Dave could not see what; he had no time to ask, because not a moment later, his cane was taken away from him, and the boy lost his balance, and found himself falling…

Right into the other’s arms. And immediately after being caught, the Strider heard the striking of a match against his wooden stick, and the cave was alit with flame.

And Dave found himself staring up, with weak legs, into Karkat’s serious face.

“…Hi.”

“Hello.”

A pause, as Dave flexed his fingers against the cloth of the Vantas’ shirt.

“Nice catch.”

“It wasn’t that difficult. You’re not exactly hard to fucking miss, Strider.”

The thirteen year old could not help but stare, and some stupid part of his brain murmured about how in the yellow and red light of the makeshift torch, Karkat’s cheekbones were highlighted beautifully, and so were the dusting of freckles below his eyes and across his nose. His little troll fangs—that held more bark than bite—had a bit of a sparkle to them as well.

“Do I look like a fucking painting to you?”

“H-Huh?” Dave’s thoughts shattered like glass as he was snapped like rubber back into reality.

“You’re staring like a creep…Like I’m some fucking piece of art. Stop it.”

“I wasn’t-“

“Uh-uh. Don’t pull that denial and puppy-eyed trick with me. It doesn’t work with trolls.” Karkat grumbled, and did not wait for more words from the other; instead, he deftly heaved the other up into an upright position, Dave leaning on the other, with an arm around a bony waist, while Karkat’s left hand held the torch.

“…Thanks.”

“For what? You’re going to fucking walk, I’m just helping you. I carried you enough yesterday.”

“Yeah, yeah, but still….”

“Just shut up. Please-“

“Yes Sir-“

Another accidental statement, and this time the troll stared at the other in shock and confusion, the words completely foreign to him; Dave himself was no better, the remnants of his vision of another time-stream still prominent in his mind.

“Uh-“

“Ignore that.”

“What was that? More importantly, what the fuck is wrong with you today?”

“Just ignore it, for fuck’s sake, I just-“

“You are an insane lunatic that needs a lot of therapeutic help. You know that?”

“Yep. I’m Insane like the ICP, man. Been clear from day one.”

“…The what? Is that a drug? Are you on drugs? Or are you just spouting nonsense? I honestly can’t fucking tell.”

“…Never mind. Can we just-“

“Yes. Let’s keep moving.“

“You know, I like how we finish each other’s sentences.”

“I don’t. It’s fucking creepy, Strider.”

“Maybe in another life we did that? You know, talk over each other, finish sentences like a married couple? We’re probably channeling our old selves, man.”

A snort, as they began to walk deeper into the cavern, “If we did that in a past life, may God strike me down with a pointy rock called—stalagmite? Stalactite? Whatever. You get the point.”

The fact that a piece of ‘pointy rock’ fell from the ceiling of the cave not a minute later, and not even a foot from Karkat’s shoe, was enough of a scary answer for the both of them. And it was scary enough to where they both became silent, and stopped the bickering that had been born between them.

After all, sometimes God just needs to send a message, yes? Hoohoo!

---

The caves they were in never had an official name, because they had been mostly unexplored. Skaia knew of their existence, but have deigned them akin to Tartarus, and were thus never ventured in by the people of the city. Others knew of their existence as well, but either because of distance or fear, had avoided them.

If they had been previously explored, natural treasures would have been discovered. Helium pits, akin to miniature volcanic holes that spouted the gas instead of fire, were everywhere in the caverns, and tiny balloons floated on them. No one knew where they had come from—perhaps an ancient tribe of intelligent beings—but they were colorful, full of oranges and blues. Glittering lights of primeval make—pink and green and orange and blue—were on the roofs of some of the tunnels they went through, but they were never bright enough to shine like a light bulb.

And did they traverse through tunnels—often the duo came to a fork in the road, and argued about which one to take, left or right, and half of the time the troll won, half of the time the human.

They kept a tight hold onto each other, the path never steep or slippery, but long and cumbersome. Sometimes Dave accidentally (or not, when Karkat was steering him somewhere) found his knee bumping into a rock, and sometimes Karkat’s forehead brushed against a hanging, pointed structure—and sometimes the albino human would snicker, albeit secretly.

They moved on minute by minute, stopping every half hour to give the human’s wounded leg a rest especially, but more so to drink and take a breather—there was no need to behave strenuously. But it was at these times that worrying came out, for at one point, after a few hours, Dave spoke up:

“You don’t think we’re lost in here, do you?”

“Well, I was not going to bring that up, Strider, but I don’t think we are. Why are you asking?”

“I mean, this shit is huge. We’ve been already going at it for a couple of hours now.”

“So even though it hasn’t been a full half of a day’s worth of walking, you’re ready to assume I fucked up somewhere and we’re lost?”

“Or I fucked up somewhere and we’re lost. But yes, I am.”

A snort, “Since when did you worry so much about things like that?”

Dave shrugged, “Dunno. I guess because we’re actually not above ground and can see the sky that bothers me.”

“Got a fear of caves, cool guy?”

“Nah, I’ve just got a weird, unusual sense of paranoia and I have a knack of predicting when we’re in trouble.”

That caused the other to let out a bark of a laugh, and even smile a bit at the (hopefully) joke, “Since WHEN?” But then the troll found himself sobering up not a moment later, sighing with,

“Look, I get it, but I don’t think we’re lost. Besides, these caves don’t go on forever. I’m sure we’ll figure something out. And hey, if we starve down here, at least it’s due to our own stupidity and not because some demon tried to spit-roast you.” Karkat stood, helping the other up afterwards, “So stop worrying about your pretty little face; we’ll get out of here eventually.”

There was a hiatus of vocals, in which only the air passed between them, until Dave spoke up again with serious words, his face hardened and gazing ahead pointedly,

“I wasn’t worrying about me, actually.”

Karkat was about to take a step, but stopped, and instead chose to gaze down at the other, the human blatantly avoiding his confused and boyish eyes.

And though he tried to form words, the gray-skinned male could not, and instead looked away, ears wriggling and reddening with embarrassment at the hidden understanding of Dave’s statement.

Neither spoke as they reached the wide entrance to another cave, figuring it would lead them to another darkened tunnel—but they were wrong.

Opened up before them was a splendid sight—a large, gigantic rocky room was spread out before them, and it was awash with sunlight, due to there being a hole in the ceiling. But what was in the room managed to catch their breath.

They stood upon a ledge, and to their left, and below and above their heads, a waterfall cascaded down, raining down on rocks and pebbles alike. It formed a small lake below the rocky wall they were on, and flowed downward and to the right, into a natural river. Larger balloons were in this room, billowing and bouncing on the helium breezes that kept them afloat. Green and beige trees grew in black patches of dirt, their leaves reaching up to the sunlight cascading down upon them. Black and silver specks blew in the breeze, made of material unknown, and they may not have even been of this world, but another far, far away, born in a Void.

Fireflies danced amongst the trees, and one even came up to Karkat as he stood on the rocks, gazing out at the world before them; his eyes crossed in annoyance, and Dave could barely contain the chuckle his throat at the cute image before him. But he did contain it, only letting a smile seep through, his hand falling closer to the other’s out of want and subconsciously.

“This is unbelievable…”

Karkat grunted in assent, legs taking over and he strolled deeper into the cavern, down the pathway along the side of the wall; Dave, leg somewhat better, leaned against the cavern, trying to distribute his weight elsewhere; thankfully, immediately after entering this lit place, Karkat blew out the fire, handing him the wood back to use. Meanwhile, noticing the troll’s presence deeper in the cave, the fireflies flew towards him, the creatures dancing in a circle, their bodies blinking in and out around him.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

“I think they like you, heh.”

“S-Shut up! I don’t know what they’re doing, they’re just stupid bugs.”

“Mmhm. Sure they are. I think—Hey! Hey, stop. C’mon, stop that.”

Dave, though, was not to be ignored by the bugs. A hoard of at least a dozen of them came to him, and began pushing at his back with their feeble strength. Confused, the human wobbled on tired feet, in the direction the fireflies were trying to push him. And soon enough, Dave found himself tripping over a rock near the middle of the cavern—his timber flying off to the side—and Karkat’s arms came out to quickly catch him, pulling him close out of instinct.

“…Hey.”

“Hello. You okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” The human nodded, “Stupid fucking bugs.”

“Right, heh.” The troll tried a smile, even if the gesture was foreign to him; without sound, his arms pulled the human closer, and neither commented on it. Nor did they comment on how all of the bugs danced in a circle around them, or how cicadas in the trees began to chirp a joyous symphony; nor did they speak of how Dave stood just a bit straighter and prouder and happier now that he was in the other’s arms; nor did they speak of how their eyes were locked in a gaze, even through Dave’s shades, or how Karkat’s tired and calloused right hand came to rest on the other’s left cheek, rough, trollian knuckles brushing against pale skin with just a tiny bit of care.

“Do you think those bugs were trying to talk to us?”

“Fireflies can’t talk, Strider,” Karkat’s voice was soft, his mind freezing up at the proximity and the unusual turn of events, “What, do you think they communicate through braille or some shit like that?”

“I dunno. Trolls can speak Alternian and English, humans vice-versa. Who’s to say fireflies can’t speak through braille?”

“Braille is for the blind, numbnuts. I’m pretty fucking sure fireflies aren’t blind.”

Dave merely smirked, leaning down closer to the other, until their foreheads were nearly touching; they kept their voices quiet subconsciously, perhaps not wanting to disturb the peace, or perhaps wanting to just keep this intimacy alive and well—even if Karkat gave the other just a bit of a scowl.

“Do you always have to argue with me?”

“I don’t know, do you always have to start shit with me?”

“Starting shit with you is what drives me to wake up in the morning, Kitten.”

“So if you stop, you’ll not wake up in the morning? Oh God, we wouldn’t want that to happen, now would we?” Came the sarcastic bile from Karkat’s lips.

Dave did not reply, merely smirking still at the other; after a few seconds, his head lightly bumped against the other’s rotund skull; there was a slight nuzzle to the motion, but it only left the troll confused and questioning.

“What the fuck was that?”

“What? Ain’t that how trolls say they like each other? You know? How they make friends?”

“Who, on this God-given-shithole-of-a-planet, told you that nonsense?” Karkat spat back, nose scrunched up in distaste, their vocal chords losing a bit of the hushed mystery that had been held within them.

“My Bro.”

“Then your ‘bro’ is a fucking moron, because we don’t do that. Never have we done that.”

“Hey now, I know he had his issues, but Bro was pretty with it. You know, when you looked past how he liked to fight me at the ass-crack of dawn on the top of our apartment complex with samurai swords. And how he liked to bury me in puppet-ass. ”

“…Well. I understand why you turned out the way you did.” The gray-skinned one snorted, and where in the past one would have expected a hearty, angry rebuff, Dave merely chuckled,

“Yeah, I guess it was all pretty crazy. But really, I’mma tell you the truth—I am the sanest of the Strider Trio.”

“Uh-huh.”

“No, seriously, I am the sanest. Bro was crazy, Dirk iscrazy—okay, crazy is a harsh word for him.”

“Mmhm,” Karkat just agreed amusedly, “And why is that?”

“Well, he just sucks with people. You know, relationships, talking, possessiveness. He’s probably got about two real friends—both of whom are chicks—and an ex-boyfriend who technically shouldn’t be his ex. But shoot, you’ll probably see him eventually. Maybe you’ll meet Jake, too. Nice guy, also not the best with people.”

“And you’re just downright amazing with people?”

“Hell yeah I am,” Dave snorted, “Have you seen how I behave? I have people fawning over me to be their best friend-five-ever. Because ‘four-ever’ was so two-thousand twelve.”

“Really? You’re serious?”

“Yep.”

“Well, Mister Strider,” Karkat feigned shocked and worship in his eyes and voice, “You must teach me the ways of your pure amazing aptitude for friendship! I want to follow you around and watch how the crowds and masses flock to you and watch you work your magic on the population of every single city. Only then—only when we have traveled far and wide, and you have shown me all you know—will I be worthy of being in your presences, let alone breathing the same air as you! So please, please show me how to be just like you, douche-bag shades and all!

“Shut up, Vantas, you sarcastic asshole.” Dave smiled a grin that was just wide enough to see the tips of his pearly whites, and though he tried to hide it, Karkat returned it, his fangs just peeking out from his black lips. The gesture stirred something joyous in the human’s heart, and he found himself gently bumping his head against the other’s once more.

“Stop that. That isn’t how we show friendship and kindness with each other, dumbass.”

“Then it can be how we show that? You know, like our little secret password. Except we don’t have a stupid tree house.”

“That idea itself is stupid, Strider.”

“Man, your negativity is stupid, Vantas.”

“Your voice is even stupider.”

“Your….uh…”

“Yes?”

A pause, “…Your toes are stupid.”

The insult wasn’t even an insult, but a foolish and stupid try at keeping the banter going; the dark-haired male merely blinked, face scrunching up not in anger, but humor, and after a moment, Karkat’s voice was being let out in tiny chuckles—bubbles of laughter that he tried to conceal and hide back away in his soul with a hand against his mouth, but it was failing to do any good.

And while he laughed, laughed for the first time in the presence of the human, genuine chortles and happiness, Dave could not help but stare at his companion—his eyes trained on the little dimples that were like ninjas on Karkat’s face, sneaking in and out, barely making themselves known. He noticed that when the troll was happy, the little parts of red in his irises stood out like they were under a spotlight, shining under the minor sunbeams in the cavern. His smile, his laugh, throaty and gravelly, maybe even a bit too old for his young self, just made him more beautiful, more appealing in a physical and emotional sense.

Karkat’s giggles (a term Dave would never use in front of the other—he liked where his balls were, and they sure as all hell did not need to end up in a river for the fish to eat) had caused his body to move just a few inches away from the human, and the Strider boy’s arms came out to pull him back in; at the motion, the troll was silenced—even more so when Dave rested his forehead against his own. The only noise in the cavern, then, was the rushing of the waterfall and the river, and the fireflies buzzing around them, still in their circular pattern.

Doe-eyed, Karkat kept his orbs trained on the other’s face, then eventually had them fall to half-mast; their voices became hushed once more.

“…Do you like me?” came the soft question from the candy-red blooded male.

More than you know…

“No, actually, I despise you with every little cell in my body.”

“Very funny.”

“Seriously, can’t you feel my hatred for you? It’s always emanating. Like one of those magical auras magical girls have. The kind of girls that make deals with cats and save people on the moon. Or actually save the moon. Or are from the moon. I don’t know, Dirk watches anime shit, not me.”

I really hope you can’t feel that I’m fucking half-hard for you right now…God, I hate being a horny teenager. Shit gets annoying as all hell, especially when I’m trying to be a fucking gentleman with you…But yeah, okay, shit’s real, want to see you naked, touch your troll bulge-thing, oh, wait, you’re talking-

“I’d like to think that if you hated me, you’d have let me die a long, long time ago.”

“Or maybe I’m just biding my time, and will just kill you myself to save me the trouble of having to deal with your corpse later?”

I’d rather just stand here with you…God, you’re really fucking soft…but firm…You’re confusing me…Everything’s confusing me…

Karkat did not respond right away, eyes trained away from Dave in a worrying fashion; his head turned eventually, purposefully avoiding the other’s face,

“If it comes down to it, maybe it’d be better if you killed me, anyway…”

Dave bit his lip, not enjoying where the conversation was turning, and it wasn’t just because death and murder were boner-killers. Did Karkat doubt that Dave liked him at least as a friend? Sure, the human did not want him to know about…well….the other types of reactions and thoughts and desires, but the friendship? The idea that Karkat was not a horrible being? Sure, his attitude could leave much to be desired, but not always. Dave had realized that days ago.

Quickly, without wasting time, Dave reached out with a subtly shaking hand and touched the other’s face, pulling it back to center; with silent pleasure, he let his fingers trail down over the other’s cheek, and eventually let his hand drop down, so he could slide it into Karkat’s.

“Hey. Listen. I don’t…” Okay, maybe he did suck with people, and Dave was cursing the Strider Syndrome™ that consisted of not being able to say what really meant when he absolutely needed to, “I think…I really think that…”

“…Yes?”

His teeth were worrying his red lips; he could do it, really. He could just kiss him, give in to improper lust, and go down that path; but something in Dave’s heart said not to—not to do that, not to go there, that Karkat would hate him and push him away; not because there was no chance of reciprocity (even though that probably was the case) but because it just was not Time for that yet.

“You…You’re good. You’re a good person.”

Karkat’s silent blinking and somewhat surprised mouth were enough of an encouragement to go on.

“I think…you and I…we….we’re friends. Can be friends. Should be friends.” Dave’s other hand—on his wounded arm—reached out, while one of the troll’s hands rested his shoulder, and touched Karkat’s face once more, and the troll’s eyes grew even bigger, his cheeks having just a dusting of cherry red, “I don’t hate you at all. I just…sometimes you’re…angry. Or like…uh…like a sea urchin and you’re all prickly and I have trouble touching you-“

“W-Wha-“

“But when I’m able to calm you down and your pricks go away, you have this…this soft underside that I really, really like. I think it’s actually supposed to be chewy in sea urchins, but I don’t really want to eat you, maybe just eat you out, I mean-“

“W-Woah, wha-“

“Anyway, ignore that, you just have a soft side that’s pretty amazing. It’s squishy and chewy and-“

“DAVE!” Karkat huffed, reaching up to grab his chin firmly, shaking his head slightly, and he grinded out angrily, “Dave, you’re babbling. Again.”

“Sorry.”

A sigh, “Just…breathe. Breathe. Right now.”

The human obeyed, and took in a breath.

“Good. Now…tell me what you really wanted to say.”

Silence for a moment, then,

“I’m not really good at that.”

“I know. But you have to try. Or we’re not going to get anywhere.”

More silence in the cave, but one could have sworn the fireflies were giggling at the human’s incompetence. Dave spoke up, then, after a few moments of gazing at the other’s annoyed expression.

“…Yeah. I like you. I…I meant it. We should be friends. ‘Cause I never hated you, man.” Another breath, “Karkat, I really just want-“

But Dave never got to tell him everything—he never got to finish the sentence with the words ‘to kiss’ or ‘to be with you’ or even just ‘to be someone you can rely on’.

Because as the ‘t’ in ‘what’ left his mouth, the fireflies’ lights died out, and they scattered into the trees with a worrying speed; the cave became colder, the sun just a bit dimmer, and the water a bit colder.

“What-“

“We’re not alone in here anymore.” Karkat’s tone instantly became serious, and he pressed himself closer to the human, gazing over Dave’s shoulder, and around the cave, “Something came in just now.”

“Right. Got it, time to get down to business. Defeat the Huns, yadda yadda.”

The thirteen year old gently pushed away from the other, taking out his sword from its hilt; he pressed his back to the troll’s, but still kept their hands joined together, partly out of protection, and partly out of just pure, childish desire. Shaded eyes flew from rock to water to trees, but nothing was in his sight. But there were subtle movements—the shaking of a few leaves, the splash of a puddle of water falling onto the shore of the river—but nothing was visible.

“…Well this is disconcerting.”

“You’re telling me, man. Are you sure something came in, though?”

Karkat sniffed, “Yes. Something’s in here.”

“Oh, so troll eyes suck at night, but their noses are perfect?”

“They’re better than human noses, asshole. I definitely smell something foreign. I also smell leftover spunk on your hands, and have smelled it for the past however-many-hours, by the way.”

“…Well, this is embarrassing.”

“It should be. Regardless, I really don’t know what this smell is…” Another sniff, this time longer, “It…I’m smelling gold. And…clouds.”

“Clouds? How the fuck are you smelling clouds?”

“I don’t know! It just smells like fucking clouds, okay? It was the first thing that came to my mind. It’s like…Like…air. And pure, clean linen, and-“

“Pure…Clean….Clouds….”

They glanced at one another, having the same exact realization at the same exact moment.

“Angels.”

And then one angel pounced—quite literally, pounced, like a lion.

“HIIII!”

Before Karkat could react, there was a magenta-clothed, gray-skinned being flying at him with olive-green eyes, her bright, wispy wings out in the air; on her hands were blue cat-like claws, and her head was adorned with a similar hat with two, tiny holes for her horns. Her face was partially disguised with a magenta-colored mask as well, but her smile was far from a secret. She was grinning wide, happy like a child, and not malicious like other beings they had encountered so far.

And the symbol of the Heart was on her chest.

She was so fast at the jump—so fast in movement—Karkat did not realize until too late that he was on the ground, on his back, staring up into the young female troll, who could not be any older than thirteen years—a little less than five sweeps--herself.

“Hi Karkitten!”

“Uh-“

“Equius! Equius, he figured it out! You can come out now! I told you that Karkat was really, really smart!” She bounced excitedly while on top of the other, the tips of her claws just reaching the elder troll’s chin; Dave, meanwhile, stood with his sword at the ready, but was quite unsure what to do with himself, because this angel was not threatening the other—yet.

“Yes, Nepeta, I know.” A deep voice carried over from the other side of the river; darkness enveloped the far wall, and had for some time, but now the darkness moved like waves on a cool ocean, and literally split itself apart, from top-to-bottom. A portal opened, and out stepped another angel, clothed in blue, his hooded top up and over his head. Blue wings existed and sparkled with an unknown dust, while his mismatched and broken horns stood out from the holes of the hood. Dark shades were on his face, long hair falling to his shoulders, and his voice had sounded deep, heroic, and his demeanor could only be described as ‘strong’ and ‘beastly’.

And the symbol of the Void was on his chest.

“Equius, isn’t he so cool?!” Nepeta hopped off Karkat in order to stand next to him; this allowed the Vantas boy to sit up and stare at the two strangers before them, and Dave found his feet hurrying to stand in front of Karkat himself.

“Yes, yes, he is quite cool.” Equius, the other’s name, apparently, merely crossed his arms, watching the other angelic friend continue on with her words.

“Karkat! I’m really, really excited to finally see you! I’ve heard so much about you, all the great things you’ve done so far, what you’re going to do, some of which even I’ve got a stake in,” She winked, “And to finally see you after hearing all about you for years! It’s amazing! Equius thinks so too, he’s just not as great at talking to greatness, right Equius?”

“Er…” The taller angel nodded, the barest sheets of sweat dotting his forehead, “Yes, Nepeta speaks the truth. Greatness has been known to blind me, and, well, you are truly great, New Messiah. Your praises have been sung for eons, truly. ”

Nepeta nodded, and scurried over to her tall, blue friend, “And now we-“

“Woah, woah, woah,” Karkat held up a hand, silencing the girl, and soon clambered to his feet, “Not that I mean to be rude, but who the HELL ARE YOU TWO?”

The angels gazed at one another, blinking in surprise at the loudness of the boy’s voice, and then the girl laughed a sweet melody.

“Oh, I’m really, really sorry! We were purrrfectly rude to you, and that’s so wrong of us.”

“But who is ‘us’?”

The female angel bowed, “I’m Nepeta Leijon, Angel of Love, Marriage, True Friendship, and Hunters and Animals! And this guy next to me is Equius Zahhak, Angel of Strength, Technology, Heroes and The Void. And we’ve come to take you home with us!”

“Look, you seem nice, kid,” Dave piped up, “But you’re not taking him anywhere.”

Nepeta gave the human a confused face, “But…Equius said we are! But don’t worry; it’s just to have Karkat play with us!”

“…Play with you?”

“Well, yeah, that’s what Equius told me. He’s my moirail, you know. Best friend, to you humans! But even more than that! And he told me, ‘Nepeta, we are going to collect Karkat Vantas, and he shall keep you company and you can play with him, and take him to your Domain for the time being.’ My domain is the Land of Cats and Teacups! You know, that really, really bright, sandy world at the top of Alternia? That has its own Northern Lights? That’s mine! I watch over that, and it’s so fun, and I spend my time there when I’m not setting up the purrfect couples.” Nepeta grinned, forming her gray fingers into the shape of a heart.

“He…didn’t say anything about having me killed?”

The cat-girl nodded, not paying attention to the nervous smile of her angelic companion, “Of course, silly! That’d be stupid if you were to be killed. I’ve already set up you with your soul-mate.”

At that, Karkat’s eyes bugged out, “My soul-mate? You set me up…with my SOUL-MATE?” His mind was unable to comprehend the topic at hand; surely, he was to end up dying alone, yes?

“Well, yes. I’m the Angel of Love! I set up everyone with their purrfect partner. I have a giant wall up in Heaven that has everyone in the world on it. Even you two!” She pointed at Dave and Karkat, “And I’ve already set you up with your true loves. So why should you both be killed? Then all my hard work would have gone to waste.” She frowned and wagged a finger at the two of them, “It takes a great deal of effort to set up soul-mates. It doesn’t end when I draw a line with my red chalk, nope! Usually, I have to go down to Earth and actually set up a chain of events that causes them to fall in love. Granted, I don’t just do red relationships—I work with pale and black, too! Because pale-love is still love, and black feelings for another troll, or even human, can be worthwhile, and may even eventually turn into red! Ohh, I love talking about this!”

Both boys glanced at one another, the topic of love foreign in their minds, due to their age and inexperience. But Dave himself knew enough about feelings to realize a part of his heart shriveled up in jealousy and spite—Karkat already had a soul-mate, somewhere, already destined for him by the stars. Who was he to try and change fate? A stupid teenage boy, against the Angels and maybe even God? And he himself already had someone? How was that fair? What if he wanted someone else? What if-

“You both are going to marry a wonderful guy, who is already in love with you! And you don’t even know it yet, oooh!” She giggled, and the Strider boy found himself gazing at the Vantas male once again, who in turn was pouting, face red, clearly uncomfortable in regards to the topic; marry a guy? Already in love with you? Dave didn’t know many other guys, other than Karkat and John Egbert. And John was still “not a homosexual” and still “pretty much pining after Jade Harley”, so he was out. And the only other men Dave really knew where his brothers, and Jake English, and Jake was certainly not in love with him.

So unless it happened to be a random stranger Dave had encountered in the streets in days, weeks, or years past, and he would somehow be reunited with him, that only left one person…

He gazed downwards—he was no longer holding Karkat’s hand, yet his fingers were twitching from the memory, and for the familiarity the hold held. Tentatively, he scooted himself closer, and Dave inched closer to claim the other’s hand…when he was sorely interrupted by Nepeta.

“Anyway, don’t you two worry about that just yet! We’re just here to take Karkat for a little while, after…” Nepeta trailed off, rocking on her heels like a giddy school-girl; she was truly a ‘wild thing’, Karkat could see that—but still a girl at heart. Perhaps a bit…silly. Or foolish. In a nice way, really, and probably because of the Angel that she was.

“…After?” Karkat prompted, oblivious to his companion’s inner conflict of whether to take his hand or not, and had his mind clearly focused on the task.

“After Equius challenges Dave to a fight!”

“Say what?”

“SAY WHAT?”

The latter had been Dave, who had had his attention immediately snapped up at that statement, which had been followed by giggles on Nepeta’s part.

“Yeah! Isn’t that right, Equius?”

The broad-shouldered male nodded, while his moirail floated in the air next to him,

“Indeed. I require the Strider male to engage in fisticuffs with me, in order for us to properly take Karkat away with us.”

“Yep! Equius said that it wouldn’t be fair to take a charge away from his Knight without a fair fight!”

Karkat, in all his flabbergasted and mildly amused stupor, said nothing, but Dave was having none of that. He shook his head, mouth agape, and strode closer towards the blue-winged angel.

“You expect me to…to fight you…YOU….” He gestured widely with flying arms and hands, pointing out the massive muscles on the Zahhak’s arms and legs and even his neck, his words failing to describe his stupor, until, “And do well? Hell, and LIVE?”

“Yes. This fight will not be fatal, but a mere test of strength between men, in order to gain the secure release of Karkat Vantas.”

“I’m injured! If you angels are supposed to know every-fucking-thing, you should that I got shot twice—TWICE—in the past twenty-four hours, and am still recovering!”

Equius shrugged, “A true warrior does not let his injuries hold him back. And as I stated before, this fight shall not be lethal to your person. Nepeta would not allow that.”

All coolness lost, mainly because he was fearing for his unadulterated safety, Dave shook his head, in a state of pure stupor, “Karkat, tell this guy he’s CRAZY!”

The troll in question was seated once again, surprisingly right next to Nepeta; both troll beings were seated on rocks, the female cleaning her claws, the male watching Equius and Dave banter back and forth, with his legs crossed. But, he did respond to the human’s exclamation, and stared at Equius, saying, bluntly,

“You’re crazy.”

“Thanks, Karkat, but you could have said that with a bit more passion-“

“You’re crazy for thinking you’d get a fair fight out of him when he’s injured. You’ll bowl him right over and probably break his legs, arms, and his glasses, and leave him as a mess that I’ll have to clean up. It’d be over in seconds.”

The Strider sighed, eyes closing (but not fast enough to see the smirk on the red-blooded troll’s face) while he muttered out, “Thanks, Karkat. God damn it.”

“You’re welcome, babe.”

“I hate you so much right now.”

“Nice to see that the tables have turned for once, isn’t it?”

Dave pointed a finger at the other, “Tomorrow morning, you are going to wake up with my dick up your—HOLY SHIT!”

The human fell back, onto his butt, because Equius had had enough of the talking; it was taking up too much time, and was purely a distracting mess; with a scowl on his face, he punched the ground with a gargantuan fist, the rock cracking beneath his fingers, and the floor split apart, as if a miniature earthquake had just occurred—and technically, it had, what with the floor having shaken in the cavern.

“Enough talk, Human Strider. It is time we fight.”

“Yay!” Nepeta chimed in, “Do your best, Equius! I’m rooting for you! But also you, Dave.”

“Thank you, Nepeta,” The blue-blood smiled, “You are always my best cheerleader.”

“It’s what I’m here for!” She clapped her hands gleefully, and Equius’ arm muscles flexed, while Dave got back onto shaky feet; he had fallen onto the cracking floor out of fear and shock, and now his blood was pumping with pure, unadulterated terror.

“Any encouraging words for me, Vantas?”

“Yeah. Just take it easy and keep him busy. And trust me.”

The thirteen year old turned his gaze onto his companion with the sincerest and ugliest form of confusion on his face, while Karkat just nodded, and repeated the last phrase of his statement once more. The troll, clearly, knew something Dave did not, or had a plan Dave could not comprehend. But what? What could he see—or do—that the human was unable to? Or was it just that Karkat was taking control here, and needed Dave to trust him, even though he already did?

Whatever the case was, Dave did not have time to ask Karkat what his plan was—he was too busy dodging the first boulder Equius was throwing at him.

---

“So, how did you two become moirails?”

“Oh? Well, it’s kind of funny,” Nepeta smiled, “When I was created, I was quite lonely. Many of the angels have brothers and sisters with them in Heaven. Like Tavros and Equius. But I didn’t. My sister…well. She lives in Hell.”

“She’s a demon?” Karkat questioned, doing his best to ignore Dave’s scream of fright as he dodged another rock being thrown at him; he also ignored Equius’ demand of, ‘pick up your weapon, Strider!’.

“Yes. She’s the Arch Demon of Lust, Fools, and Deadly Desires. The humans on Earth would compare her to Lilith, I believe.”

“Ouch.”

“Yes…” She sighed, “At this rate, I will be an Archangel, and she will be an Arch Demon…and maybe one day we shall have to fight one another. It saddens me, especially because she would have been a purrfect Archangel of Love. I don’t want that responsibility!”

“But then why is she a demon?”

“Because she has lusted and desired someone who is merely using her and destroying her. Granted, I think she genuinely cared for him at one point, but she’s too far gone, now. Now she causes others to feel sadistic and unholy lust for one another, without any form of love. The demon she is with uses mind-control powers on her and I think she may even realize by now that it happens—she didn’t in the past, not when she became deaf, but I think she does now…and I think she likes it. She likes giving up herself to him. Hence her powers.”

“But…you cause people to fall in love, right? Isn’t that supposed to involve lust?”

“Lust coming from Meulin, that’s her name, is lust that will end in tragedy. It is the lust that those who have affairs with their mistresses have. It’s the lust of a teenager with his drugs or his druggie. It’s not even the lust of tragic love, like Romeo and Juliet, it’s the lust of the Deadly Sin. I create sexual desire in lovers that will end with happiness and passion, and the lust that helps bear children.”

Karkat looked away from the Angel, who had surprised him so far; she truly did not want to see him dead, and, if anything, she wanted to see him live longer than he was probably supposed to. She enjoyed talking about herself, her duties, and now, even with a heavy heart, her family problems.

“Anyway, regarding Equius and me! He realized I was alone in Heaven, and with me not having a sibling in Paradise, he took me under his wing. We playfully fight all the time, and he and I sometimes go on hunts together. He lets me tell him all about who I have helped fall in love each day before I sleep, and I help him test his strength. And I get to play with all his cool robots! So I guess you could say Equius sort of adopted me as a best friend, as a little sister.”

Curious for more information, Karkat pressed on, eyes sometimes flittering to Dave, who was now dodging Equius’ punches and kicks—most of them—while failing to give out any of his own, “Do lots of angels have siblings not in Heaven?”

Nepeta frowned, nodding, “Let’s see…There’s Latula. Latula Pyrope.”

“Pyrope?”

“Yep. She’s the Archangel of Games, Scent, and Travel, and her little sister is the Demon of Mind, Mind Games, Blindness and Treachery. You sounded like you knew that last name…?”

Karkat paused, “Uh. No. It just sounded familiar-“

“Liar!” Nepeta stuck out her tongue, “It’s okay, I already knew you met Terezi, and foiled her plans. You nearly killed her, too!”

“W-Well-“

“It’s okay, Latula doesn’t hate you for that. She just hates what her sister’s become. There’s also Mituna Captor. His little brother Sollux is the Demon of Doom, Tragedy and Psychic Prowess. Mituna is the Archangel of Mentality, Clarity, Duality and Struggle. He’s very kind, but also very troubled. He can see and feel every single human and troll’s struggles—it’s a powerful psychic connection, something he has in common with his brother. But whereas Mituna can use his powers to help those on Earth, at the sacrifice of his own strength and mentality, Sollux uses his to antagonize beings into fights, and sometimes even blesses them with mind-control powers, or psychic shock powers. And then there’s Feferi Peixes, but her older sister is…well. Let’s just say she’s something else entirely, and Feferi doesn’t really like for anyone to talk about it, so I can’t. Sorry. ”

“Well, that’s…interesting…Anyone else out there with really, really bad family problems?”

“…Aradia. Aradia Megido.” Nepeta crossed her arms, “Her older sister Damara is the Arch Demon of Betrayal and Perversion. And she’s extremely powerful. Some say she is the creature that helped inspire many of the wars that transpired through the centuries—you know, those minor strifes between factions, and even the Great War, the One Hundred Years War. Some even say she started wars on Earth, though I’m less inclined to believe that.”

“Do you not like Aradia? You don’t really seem fond of her…or maybe I’m reading your tone wrong.”

The Leijon girl was silent for a few moments, and Dave’s shouts of ‘KARKAT HELP ME, YOU ASSHOLE!’ rang out in the cave, while the troll in question merely waved at the human, and returned the shout with,

“I’m working on it! You’re doing fabulously! You should try punching him in the jaw!”

“FUCK YOU, I’M NOT PUNCHING HIM IN THE JAW! I’LL BREAK ALL MY FINGERS!”

Karkat laughed, and turned back to Nepeta, who finally answered,

“She’s Equius’ Matesprit. And she’s very commanding. Kind, but commanding. She really wants to bring Heaven back into its glorious eras, and finally destroy Hell once and for all. Humans would compare her to the Archangel Michael, with the flaming sword, in the Earthly Christian religions. And, most importantly, she wants to kill you!”

“Yep, already knew that.” Karkat rolled his eyes, and Nepeta continued,

“I don’t want you dead! You’re supposed to have a very happy love life! I already decided it, even if she didn’t want me to, hmph.”

“She didn’t want you to do that?”

“Yep! But I already knew that it was going to happen, so I did it anyway. Drew that red line right to your soul-mate!”

“…You’re not supposed to tell me who-“

“NOPE!” Nepeta laughed, “No telling you who you’re going to fall in love with. Or who you’re already in love with!”

“…So I know him? You already said he was male and already in love with me-“

“And that’s all I’m going to say! You’re not getting any more info out of me, Mister!”

Karkat snorted, shaking his head, and watched his human companion for some time; Dave was doing his best to fight the Angel of Strength, bad leg and arm and all. But his tactics mostly consisted of dodging and running, which, truthfully, Karkat could not blame him. It had been foolish to even try and fight Equius—the Angel was breaking rocks like they were made of paper and sand, and was throwing rocks (and even the once happy trees in the cavern) at Dave like they were nothing.

But, it had all been a part of Karkat’s plan. Once he had truly heard what Nepeta said before—that Karkat was to remain alive—and had gotten to know her better, he saw where the conflict lay. But he had needed time; needed time to confirm his suspicions, confirm his hypothesis…And Dave was a very useful distraction for the cause. Sure, he was using the Strider a bit, but he’d make it up to him eventually—maybe.

But now, he could act—or, in this case, logically show the flaw in Nepeta’s idea of him being alive.

“…Nepeta. Equius told you that I’d remain alive, right?”

“Yep! He sure did, and I believe him!”

Two heartbeats later, Karkat spoke up again,

“But…Aradia tried to have me killed.”

“…Yes, she did. And she still wants you dead.”

“Right,” He went on, “Did Equius tell you how he’d bring me back to your Domain? Do you get to take me?”

The Angel girl frowned, thinking, “Actually…He said…He was going to take you to the Land of Cats and Teacups…And that I could eventually see you after you were settled in…You know…Tonight or however you want to say it…Which is weird, now that I think about it. Sure, he’s allowed in my Domain, but…” Another pause, “This is his Domain…These caves. This dark, rocky land that we’re on…And it’s rare for other angels to bring people to other Domains…And why would I have to wait to see him? Never understood why he said that, either.”

“Right…And who is Equius’ Matesprit again?”

“…Aradia. It’s Aradia.”

Karkat said nothing after that statement, and instead raised his eyebrows at the girl beside him; she studied his face, the cogs in her brain churning and turning…until finally comprehension brushed away the confusion.

She had been, without a doubt, lied to.

“No…But Equius…He wouldn’t have-“ Nepeta worried her lips, “But…” Olive eyes gazed over at the troll in question, who was throwing more punches towards his human target; unfortunately, Dave couldn’t duck one in time, and his jaw was hit. Already having walked around with a semi-limp, and a weak left arm, his face now blossomed with pain, and the human cried out, falling to the ground.

And Nepeta continued to stare at her angelic companion as he marched over towards the fallen Knight, her expression going from one of disbelief, to doubt, to a type of rage that seemed uncharacteristic of her; she began to slowly growl, the vibrations in her throat growing louder and louder, the sound matching Equius’ marching steps towards Dave, who he himself feared more pain and further violence, his glasses askew, but no one noticing how red and fearful his eyes were.

And for just a moment, Nepeta wondered if Equius had planned to kill the Strider boy all along, too…

And then the Angel of Heart stood, launching herself off the rock, to scream,

“EQUIUS! STOP RIGHT THERE!”

The Angel of Strength obeyed, and glanced at his moirail, his hands balled into fists; Dave, the poor distraction that he had been, sighed in relief.

“Yes, Nepeta?”

“YOU LIED TO ME! WE WERE GOING TO HAVE TO KILL KARKAT AFTER ALL!”

The Zahhak male had a twitchy smile bloom on his face—the same smile that had been in existence when Nepeta had proclaimed that Karkat was merely going to come and “visit her domain” minutes ago. It had been a short, quick jerk of his lips previously—but it had not been subtle enough, because the Vantas boy had noticed it.

And he had learned early on in his lifetime that twitchy expressions could be a hidden sign of a liar.

Even more so when said liar lightly perspired, too…

“O-Of course not, Nepeta…What makes you accuse me of such a thing?”

“BECAUSE ARADIA IS YOUR MATESPRIT, AND SHE WANTS KARKAT DEAD! AND YOU WOULD SUPPORT HER! I KNOW YOU WOULD!”

“N-Now, Nepeta, even though what you say is true, that does not mean-“

She snarled again, and began to flutter above the ground, her purple-red wings flapping rapidly in the air; Karkat, then, took the initiative to hurry over to the fallen Strider, and help him to his feet, moving the two of them away from the arguing angels.

“YES IT DOES! ADMIT IT! You LIED to me, Equius! How could you!?”

“N-Nepeta-“

“You knew I had organized Karkat to be with his soul-mate ever since he was born! Everyone knew that! You knew—SHE knew—that I couldn’t let him be killed, and yet you all want to see him dead! How is that fair to him? To anyone? TO ME!?”

Equius sighed, “Nepeta. We understand that you mean well, and that arranging love is your job-“

“Understand!? No, you don’t! If you did, you’d let him live! You wouldn’t have to LIE TO ME about what you want to do!”

Equius sighed, finally seeing that he might as well come out and speak some of the truth, “Yes, I did lie to you. I was planning to take Karkat to Aradia, where they in turn she would execute him.”

Tears formed in the girl’s eyes, and she continued on,

“I should have known! You and the others will never understand what I feel, what I see! Not Aradia, not you, not even GOD!”

“Nepeta, be rational. This is much, much bigger than one mere life. Even God understands that matter. She Herself understands and believes that he must perish for the sake of others. And you were never supposed to arrange for Karkat to fall in love—technically, you disobeyed an order from God, and should have been killed for it, yet I argued for the defense of your life. ”

“God just wants to erase Hell and anyone worthy of Hell off the map, Equius! That’s all she cares about! And maybe things aren’t meant to be that, well, big, Equius! Maybe they’re meant to be small, compact, and still worthwhile! And maybe I did disobey her, but I knew what I had to do! And maybe, just maybe, God supported my actions just a bit! She certainly didn’t kick me out like she kicked out the Grand High Blood, now did she? I’m not like Lucifer, now am I?!”

The taller angel sighed, “Nepeta, I…I truly am sorry for having lied to you, but-“

“But NOTHING, Equius! Moirails aren’t supposed to lie to one another—not to support a Matesprit, at the very least!” The cat-girl’s eyes were even brighter with tears now, some actually having sprung forth, “You would rather support Aradia’s vision of a ‘pure’ world than my small vision of Karkat alive and happy! And that is what hurts me the most. I’m used to the other angels not understanding what I do—except Feferi and Tavros, really—but I really thought you were purrfectly reasonable and could understand me! Understand what I had to do!”

“Nepeta, this is not just about you-“

“You’re right! It’s about HIM!” She jabbed a blunted clawed finger at Karkat, “And HIM,” then at Dave, “And now it’s about US! Because you couldn’t support both Aradia and I, and you decided to support her WHILE lying to me! You could have at least been honest about it!”

“I…I knew that you could probably get close to Karkat, and…well. Encourage him more. You are very personable, Nepeta…” Equius murmured guiltily, glancing away from his furious friend.

“S-So you used me, too!? You figured I could help you and Aradia?!”

“…Nepeta, please…Can we go back Home and…and talk about this reasonably?”

“NO! Because how do I know that you haven’t lied to me in the past?! About other things?”

“I haven’t, Nepeta! I swear!” Now the blue-blood’s expression seemed morbidly afraid, instead of just guilty at being reprimanded—and Karkat had a hunch why:

Nepeta Leijon was about to end—or at least suspend—the moirallegiance she had with Equius.

“You were supposed to take care of me…You promised you would…” She bit her lip again, clawed hands coming up to hide her face, “I thought I was like a little sister to you…And here I am, being the stupid one, because I brought you and Aradia together…And it just turned around and hurt me…”

“Nepeta, please, believe me, I never wanted to hurt you! You know how pale I am for you! I just…Duty, Nepeta. Duty to Aradia, to God, it has to come first sometimes-“

“Duty can’t come first when you are moirails with the Angel of Love!” She screeched back at him, “Because duty is just another word for allegiance with something else that isn’t your HEART! And that kind of allegiance is something I can’t work with, but I thought you understood that! But you would rather keep your duties with Aradia than try and understand me!”

“Nepeta-“

The girl curled up into herself, and let out another cry of emotional pain; but she then shook herself out of her, and unfurled her wings. Her fangs showed, the tears streaming down her face as she cried out,

“I’m going home! And I’m done with you! Go have fun with Aradia while you try to ruin everything that is really supposed to happen; be blind just like the rest of those purrfectly ignorant angels! Consider our moirallegiance over until you all see the truth! And if I Fall for disobeying God and the rest of you, so be it! I’ll happily do so!”

“NEPETA!”

But in a flash of pink dust and white light, the Angel was gone, leaving a shell-shocked Equius standing there, watching the dust settle onto the rocks beneath his feet.

After a moment, he hung his head, staring down at his feet from behind his shades, while Dave and Karkat cowered in the corner together, the human having already fixed his own glasses secretly, when Karkat was not looking.

“…How did you know that I lied to her, New Messiah?”

Karkat straightened when Equius addressed him,

“You were sweating and twitching. Clear signs of a liar, if I had ever seen any. Every time she brought up the subject, your arm would twitch, and so would your smile, and you would sweat. More than likely, she didn’t notice such things because she trusted you—and because both you and I know she’s a bit naïve.”

“Her naivety exists because she believes so strongly in love.” Equius countered with a defensive tone, and then questioned further, “Why did you push her? Why did you even bring this up with her? To save your own skin? Or was there a deeper meaning behind it?”

A smirk came from the other troll, “Well, yeah, that was part of it. I knew you’d kill Dave. Let’s just face it, he was a weak target for the Angel who blessed Troll Hercules and Troll Spartacus back in the day. But I knew he’d be a perfect distraction until I could get more information out of Nepeta.”

“I’m flattered that you have heard of me, but you didn’t give me a complete answer.”

“Yeah, I didn’t, did I? Yes, it was in part to save my own skin—and Dave’s. But I guess a part of me was…disappointed in you. Angry at you. Once I found out the truth, that is.”

“Angry?”

The Vantas boy nodded, “You lied to your moirail…lied to her. Look, I’m a bit of a social pariah, and the human behind me here can attest to that. I can’t stand people. I can’t stand the lies that come from their mouths, their actions, their falsehoods. And when you’re locked up in a church for five sweeps with little chance for friends or for finding out the real truth about humanity—if there even is a humanity—you learn a lot about people. You learn whether you can or can’t trust people, and you certainly learn how to find out when someone’s lying. So I knew right away that you were keeping something from her. And the other thing I learned is that if you really have someone in your life—someone who is willing to do every-fucking-thing for you, you should keep them in your life. You can’t just use them and throw them away. You can’t abuse them. I didn’t want to be like my own dead father’s supposedly current followers, who would go to church every Sunday, after fucking their mistresses and slapping their kids around on Saturday.”

Karkat let his grip on Dave go, and stepped closer to the Angel of Strength, the lion of bravery in his heart growing stronger and roaring louder, as he continued with,

“You are—were—all she had. She told me about her sister, Aradia, everything. And though I was never ‘blessed’ enough to have a moirail in my life, I’ve had family. And moirails are supposed to be like family. That person that you want to protect from life and its hardships, not throw them to the dogs and show them how we all really are.”

“You truly believe that we are meant to keep our moirails in blindness?”

Karkat snorted, “It’s not blindness. Your moirail is the exception—it’s supposed to be that person you can actually show real humanity towards, while with mostly everyone else you can be your ugly self. That’s at least how I see it. And you know what’s even funnier?”

“Enlighten me, New Messiah.”

The red-blood’s voice lowered, the growl on the tip of his tongue coming forth,

“You angels think you’re above us, don’t you? Hence why you want to cleanse the fucking house. But you’re not. I get that demons are supposed to lie, to cheat and steal, but you guys? I thought you were supposed to be better than that. And you’re not. You’re willing to let a young girl run home in tears and actually take her job away from her, ruin her livelihood and the lives of others. How is that better than any of us? If anything…” He trailed off, until he was face-to-face with his antagonist, their noses nearly touching, and Karkat could even see tiny sapphire-colored tears of desperation and despair that the Zahhak male was trying to avoid, “I’m starting to wonder if some of the ‘bad guys’ are actually ‘good guys’ and you angels are the ones who should really be feared…”

Equius said nothing in return, and for a moment, Dave feared that his companion would have his face shattered by a shaking fist; but only silence came into being, and when Karkat did not sense he would be retaliated against, he quickly lowered his head, turned on his heel, and strode back towards Dave.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

But Equius was not done speaking, even if he was done acting under false pretenses, because he spoke up with,

“I’m wondering, New Messiah…Did you purposefully incite her?”

The troll halted his steps, and turned back towards the winged creature,

“What do you mean?”

“Surely, you have heard the rumors of how your Father was able to calm rushing crowds full of anger…yes?”

“…You mean blood-controlling powers? That shit was just legends. The Messiah didn’t have the capability to do that-“

“Or did he? Some say he was able to stop a rioting mass of beings just by holding out his hands and closing his eyes; they would say he could feel the anger in their blood, the ‘boiling’ that was not entirely metaphorical, and could calm it. He could calm their fears, their rage…just by speaking and raising a hand. And I was no fool, New Messiah—you had a hand on Nepeta’s shoulder the entire time you were speaking to her.”

Karkat’s mind turned over the statements told to him, confusion evident on his face; yes, he had been touching the girl’s shoulder, now that he thought of it…and a part of him had sensed…heat. Confused, sparking heat underneath her skin. A heat that was unusual, because it was not like that of one’s body temperature. The recognition of said warmth was strange, too—how had he felt it? How had he known it was something different?

“You’re just spouting nonsense, Angel.”

“They also said that the Messiah could have incited rage, you know. That the reverse power was true—that he could have caused massive towns and cities to burn down in the flames of sheer chaos, if he had wanted to. But thankfully, he had been a good soul, and would never do such a thing; nor would have had killed using his abilities-“

“Even if he had had those abilities, how would he have killed using them?! Huh?! Tell me that!” Something stirred in the Vantas boy, an anger that had been very akin to Nepeta’s—but this time, because of accusatory remarks directed at him and his kin.

“…I will not make it my responsibility to talk to you about killing with blood-rage techniques. Maybe the Messiah never had them. Maybe you never will, either. But legends are…legendary for a reason, after all. And if I am so inclined to believe that by touching Nepeta’s shoulder, you caused her rage to boil to the surface, then I shall. I am sure you shall not hold it against me.”

Karkat snarled, and thought to take a step forward, but felt a hand grab his elbow—the Strider boy was right behind him, pulling on his metaphorical leash.

“Let it go, man. He ain’t worth it.”

A short snort came from the troll, and all he said was, “Don’t you have an ex-moirail to chase after? And get yourself a towel. Your sweat is desecrating this cave.”

He turned once again on his heels, a hand grabbing Dave’s to pull him along, and Karkat’s stomping feet didn’t stop, not even when he heard,

“This isn’t the last time we shall encounter one another, New Messiah. I can promise you that. And now that Nepeta is not here to hold me back, future battles will be…much darker. But I promise you this—I will fix my moirallegiance with Nepeta once I knew you are dead and gone from this plane of existence!”

And with a bang of blue light, and navy-colored dust, Equius vanished into thin air, while the duo was already making their way down into another cavern.

They did not speak for some moments, but they also failed to let go of each other’s hands—not that Dave was complaining, after all.

“…You okay?” But eventually, the Knight had to ask. He just had to know if Karkat had recovered from the intensity from before.

“…I guess. I just hate guys like that. They think they own the world just because their strong or because their significant other has fucking flames and Time powers.”

Dave snorted, “Trust me, I met her. She’s not all that great.”

That caused the troll to smile, “And just...I don’t like liars. If you can’t tell me the truth, then just don’t speak to me.”

“So you don’t consider what your Sisters and Mother did to you as lying? I mean…they all figured this would happen, and…”

“Oh, that wasn’t lying.” A pause, “That was just sheer denial. They kept hoping that nothing would happen. And yet…”

“It did.”

“Exactly. By the way, sorry about using you like that. It was really a spontaneous plan—not the best, I am never going to lead an army, ever—but I was hoping it would work.”

“Eh, s’fine. My jaw’s a bit sore, but I’ve been in worse shape. At least we’re not dead?”

“Yeah…I still feel like I should make it up to you, though.”

“…Oh honey, you can make it up to me any day, any night, any time—okay, I’ll stop, heh. But seriously, don’t worry about it.”

They stepped over a large fallen boulder in front of their path; Dave hopping over the rock first, slowly because of his leg, then helping the other climb over it, and then he (slyly) held the other’s hand—but Karkat did not speak up about it.

“So when you said you could tell when someone was lying…”

“…Yes?”

“You knew I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted to be your friend?”

That caused the five-sweeps old male to halt his steps, and glance at the other,

“...Yes. I knew you weren’t lying.”

“…But? I know there’s a ‘but’ in that sentence.”

Another nearly-hidden smile, “But I just didn’t believe it.”

“Believe in me, or in the fact that I wanted to be your friend?”

“…The latter.”

Dave frowned, “But…why?”

Sorrowful eyes—eyes that tried their best to hide the anguish hidden within the soul they contained—glanced up into Dave’s shades, and he answered with,

“Because why would anyone want to be my friend? What do I have to offer? Except death, that is.”

Dave didn’t say anything for a moment, the wheels in his mind turning—but soon he realized, he was thinking too much. Because the answer had already—and always—be on his tongue.

So he smiled just a tiny bit, an eyebrow elevating as he lifted their conjoined hands together, giving forth a gentle squeeze…that he could have sworn was hesitantly reciprocated by the other.

“Oh, Kitten. That’s the thing. You need to have friends to see what you really, really have to offer. Trust me on that.”

Karkat opened his mouth to respond, perplexity in his wrinkles and creases and dimples, but it slowly closed; maybe he had never had any real words to say; maybe he was just too unsure on what he could say, or maybe a part of him told him that there was the chance that Dave was actually right on that note.

Whatever the case, he gave a little shrug, while staring at their lifted conjoined hands, the blond’s fingers having folded downward, so they were barely caressing the skin on Karkat’s own dirty, dry appendage.

And he himself folded his own fingers down, touching the human’s hand with a sense of acceptance, of understanding, and even greater—the sense of partnership.

“Now can we get the hell out of here? And you really need to look at these stitches.”

“Shit, do you think Equius ripped them?” Karkat’s eyes proceeded to bug out, worrying taking over his face, and Dave had to laugh.

“Nah, I doubt it. If anything, I really just want to get mostly naked in front of you again.”

“…God, I just really, really hate you, you know that?”

“I know, heh. I know.”

---

It took another two days—two days! Who made these caves?!—to get through the entire plane of caves and caverns. At some points, they got wet from water dripping on them—or, in one case, for poor, dear Karkat—when it accidentally poured on them through holes and ‘surprise waterfalls’ (even worse, Dave took it upon himself to try and dry him off with the blanket they had gathered in Skaia, Karkat’s skin and hair puffing out like an angry, wet cat).

They rationed food to the best of their ability, slept near each other for warmth—even though Karkat would try and squirm away each time, and Dave would just come crawling back to him (but again, even worse, when Karkat would know that he fell asleep away from the other, and woke up with his head on Dave’s chest, the human’s arms around his body). They were tried, sore, and even a bit angry at the world (or a lot).

The Strider’s stitches came out on the end of the first day of the two, and it was also at that time that Dave found out Karkat enjoyed being petted—really, he did. Sure, it had been accidental; he had moved a hand to just pet the top of the troll’s head as a gesture of thanks for doing a good job of ‘being the best doctor ever’, his fingers sinking into the locks and scalp of the other. Normally, Karkat would have swatted away the hand and hissed, but the fatigue had been catching up to them, he especially, what with his sleep plagued with nightmares, and nervousness of being close to the other; and this time, when Dave’s fingers sunk into his head enough for serious attention, and gently scratched the scalp while rubbing his mane, he easily succumb to the enjoyable sensation, and let out a soft purr.

“…Uh.”

Blinking fast, Karkat shook his head as quickly as he could, stuttering, “H-Hey, stop that-“

“…Oh.” A smirk slowly rose on Dave’s face, and he kept up the gentle scratching; Karkat whined at first, trying to move away from the other, but the calming sensations on his head lulled him into peace, and he began melting under Dave’s fingers, purring, even letting out a mewl or a soft growl once in a while.

“…Oh, I am going to take advantage of this like the sadist I am.” The human chuckled, and Karkat tried to hit him, but that only increased Dave’s movements; his hand trailed down over Karkat’s hair, up near his forehead, down to his neckline, and even between his ears.

“Nnh…S-Stop that…Asshole…Normal troll…reaction…”

“Oh, you all do this? Are you sure about that?”

“F-Fuck…you…”

Dave began massaging his scalp—truly massaging it, and Karkat squirmed, but eventually his body relaxed fully; the scissors fell out of his hand, his legs stretched out, and his head gently fell to rest against Dave’s bare chest—the human had not even taken the time to put his shirt back on before ‘thanking’ the other, and now, with how close the other was, the roué in his soul enjoyed the base pleasure he got from feeling Karkat pressed up against him, purring at his merciless touching.

“Oh, my day just got so much better. I should have tried this ages ago. Who knew Karkat Vantas had an off-switch?”

“Mmn…Gonna…Cut you…”

“Uh-huh. But then I’ll have to stop this.”

The whine he got from the troll was answer enough.

The erection he got from the snuggling and pushing of Karkat’s head against his chest was worth it, the other’s skin so near and lazily draped over his body causing heat in his loins—all worth it.

Even the punch he received come the third and final day’s morning was worth it. And yes, the black eyes was worth it, too.

But yes, after three days of darkness, of rocks and pointy walls and water—water everywhere! GAH!—they exited the expanse of caves, the final one opening out into a forest…

“Freedom! Sunlight! Air! A place I can take a piss at that isn’t a fucking rock!” Dave exclaimed with all the joy of an idiot teenager, flopping down onto the dirt, face up towards…

The trees that blocked most of the sunlight.

“What sun, dumbass? The trees are blocking it.” Karkat came to stand in front of the other, staring down at him with an expression of pointed annoyance.

“…You know, in this light, it looks like you have demon horns—ACK!”

The troll moved a foot to gently press it against Dave’s throat.

“One, we have learned demons do not have typical ‘demon horns’, just troll horns, so that joke wasn’t even funny. Two, get your ass up off the ground. We’re not far from Neon.”

“Ack…Can’t…stand…up…Troll…Jesus…standing on me—Wait, Neon?”

Dave stood easily, pushing Karkat’s foot to the side—the troll having not pressed on it that hard—to stand; there was indeed a wooden sign not up ahead proclaiming in big, black letters:

NEON, CITY OF

30 MILES

“Well, shit. Do you think a lot of people come to Neon through these caves?”

Karkat shrugged, “I haven’t even heard of it. What’s it like?”

“Well…Think of Las Vegas, only shittier, darker, more drunk, and more sex.”

“…I don’t know what Las Vegas is, dipshit.”

“Oh honey, I need to take you to Vegas. We can get married there. Hop on a space-ship, go to Earth-”

Karkat’s left eye twitched, “…Can you just elaborate on what Neon is?”

“Oh, fine, fine, ruin all my fun. Anyway, Neon’s supposed to be this huge gambling town. Lots of shit goes down. Mafia stuff, gangs, drugs, prostitution rings, lots of fights. It’s a tough-as-nails town. But it’s also classy.”

“How can any of that shit be classy? Or do we have different definitions of classy?”

“It’s got bright lights, large towers—nothing like Skaia, though—but also a bunch of dark alleys. It’s a mix of good and bad—but mostly bad. And looking at it, more than likely, the bad people like to stay hidden when traveling, so they probably took these caves to get here. It’d be less conspicuous than the roads, right?”

“…And your other cousin is here? Why? What does she do?!”

“…Well, I think I’ll just let her explain that, okay?”

“…Fine. But if she does anything-“

“She won’t, man, don’t worry. Roxy’s pretty chill. If anything, she might just try and get you drunk.”

“…Oh yeah, that’s not trying anything at all…” Karkat sighed, nodding at the human, “Let’s just get going, okay? No more wasting time. And maybe we can get a nice bed there, or something.”

But before the troll could even take ten steps, he stopped, eyes starting to dart around.

“What is it?”

Karkat sniffed, growling,

“Sulfur. And blood. I can smell it, can’t you?”

Dave moved his own nostrils, “…Barely. How bad is the smell?”

“Bad. But…I don’t think there’s too many of them.”

“Demons?”

“No, Sherlock, it’s the fucking fairies from fucking Troll Narnia, OF COURSE I SMELL DEMONS!”

Dave wasted no time, and took out his sword, grabbing Karkat by the arm and pulling him close.

“You know, we just can’t be alone anymore-“

“I know, it’s starting to get really annoying-“

“Yeah! What if we were in the middle of sex?”

Karkat slowly turned his head towards the other, “Excuse me?”

“Yeah, man, think about it. What if we were just getting it on right here, right now, and some demon walked in? Talk about a boner-killer. And then they’d ask to join in, and I don’t like to share, and…well. It’d just be awkward. So maybe it’s a good thing we’re not together intimately, right?”

The red-blooded boy just stared, and eventually slowly shook his head,

“Are you actually horny all the time? You bring up sex all the time like it’s the only thing that is on that tiny, little, insignificant mind of yours.”

“It’s because every day I’m seeing your pretty face, and all I want is to see what it’d look like moaning my name.”

“…How the HELL did you say that with a straight face?”

Dave shrugged, “Dunno. But seriously-“

“Shut it.”

“Got it.”

“And the next time you bring up sex, I-“

HONK.

“…Karkles, did you hear that?”

“…Yes.”

HONK.

A little bit of laughter came forth, chuckles that were dark and throaty.

“…D-Dave…”

“Shh, I got you…” Dave moved, his hand turning Karkat more behind him, his body a small, but sturdy, shield.

“Dave, it can’t be…can’t be him, right-?“

HONK!

There was a rustling in the tree in front of them, and before either of them could even blink, Gamzee Makara appeared. His gangly legs were hanging onto a branch not far above the ground; he hung in front of the duo, upside down, but a big grin on his face. He exploded into laughter, his tall body shaking with chuckles and honks as he stared at the boys in front of him, and when he proclaimed his greeting, his arms were outstretched, as if he was trying to reach and touch the dirt below his body.

“Hi Motherfuckers! Did ya miss me?”

---

They were stopping in a small town; it wasn’t anything worthwhile, according to Eridan Ampora. The houses were tiny shanties, nicer than the place the New Messiah and his Knight had passed through, though, surely. But there was only one medium-sized public square with a fountain for fresh water, and only about twelve different shops all in all. The people here were agricultural and farmers, if anything. They lived off the land like peasants, which, really, made sense because they were peasants.

Rose Lalonde and Kanaya Maryam had stopped here; while the boys had gone more south from the Capital, and would head north, the girls had done the opposite—going north, and would then head south, to eventually join up with them; and with Rose’s teleportation techniques given to her by the Temple of Light’s Seer abilities (and whatever other ‘magic’ she had in her bag), if there was ever an emergency, they could get to the boys faster.

But that wasn’t going to happen.

Eridan Ampora had a job to do as he watched them enter the small civilization, pulling his hood tighter over his head, and the cloak around his body just a bit more, sticking to the shadows.

They were heading into a small pub, from what it seemed. Probably to get information, barter, whatever two women did in such a place.

He had been watching them for miles, and they had not even seen him coming.

Even Rose! Supposedly a magical girl, with keen sight—had she seen him at all? He surely thought not, because she had not warned Kanaya…

Or maybe she had Seen him coming, and had chosen not to warn her…Ooh, how evil! How treacherous!

Regardless, Eridan slowly slinked in behind them, situating himself in the back of the large, one-room bar and restaurant; his purple eyes were hidden, his wings tucked away into his body. Calmly, he pulled out a white marble wand, and with a nod of his head, it turned into a smoking pipe—not tobacco, of course. But water.

After all, even water demons need water to survive on land—the sea-dwelling trolls don’t lose that when they become denziens of Hell.

And he sat himself down, and watched.

Watched his target with the jade eyes sit across from the human female in her company. And though she was facing him, she did not notice him.

A perfect result for the Demon of Destroyed Hope.

Because his target—to kill—was Kanaya Maryam.

The New Mother to the New Messiah.

Because she, herself, was a beacon, a candle, of hope.

A beacon of hope to Karkat Vantas—hence why she needed to be destroyed by the Master Assassin of Hell.

For like every candle…

Like every type of Hope…

It never lived long.

Not long at all…

Chapter Text

Seven:

Blessed Be the Rainbow

Kanaya Maryam wasn’t a fool. She was many things: a female, a troll, a jade-blood, a devout, religious woman with romantic inclinations towards females, but she wasn’t a fool.

She knew that they were being watched.

“You look tense. Is something wrong?”

Rose had spoken up, and was seated across from her, the distance between them created by a square, wooden table. Atop it sat two glasses of the freshest Alternian spring water, with just a sprinkling of berry juice for flavor, and a fresh plate of small wieners and grapes for appetizers (all they could currently afford, and really all the pub had to offer them at the time). Purple eyes were gazing at her curiously, but the troll was hesitant to alarm her companion.

Rose was a sweet girl, young looking for her age, and in an occupation that was too old for her age. Seers normally did not come into power until at least sixteen. The Lalonde girl, to the fortune of Kanaya, had been blessed early. And she could only be classified as an enigma—a girl who would wisely banter back and forth with her, smirk secretively from beneath her Light robe and hood, while minutes later she would tell jokes and pretend to have a moustache. She would talk of magic, and show Kanaya her wands—two knitting needles used for knitting having been alchemized in the Temple of Light to harness magic—sometimes dark, if necessary—from the sun and from the worlds beyond. She would speak of kittens, and how she had kept one as a child, named Jaspers, while she still lived with Roxy and ‘Mom’.

And yet, there was still so much Kanaya did not know of Rose—why had she taken it upon herself to order Kanaya to stay with her, in almost the way a blackmailer would? Was she seeking friendship and loyalty? Clearly, she had been an isolated woman in the Temple—her powers were unique, powerful for such a young girl, and even if there were older women there, Rose had had a sense of leadership. And truly, how much could Rose see? Did she know what was to happen? Did she know if Karkat was to die, and was just not saying anything? Or were things slowly unfolding to her as they came about?

Even stranger, what did Kanaya feel for the girl? Surely they could be called friends by now, yes? Unlike the boys (she supposed), her and the human were getting along splendidly, sometimes laughing at one another’s jokes, playfully push at one another as they traveled down the walkways and roads. They sometimes sat up at night, knitting (Kanaya) or reading tales of magicians and heroes and cats (Rose). And the troll girl could not deny that Rose had a certain beauty to her—she was charming, intelligent, and when she smiled, she could light up the room. And she appreciated Kanaya’s maternal instincts, because in many ways, Rose had them too. But instead of taking care of an ill-fated troll, Rose took care of her sister, who would turn to soporific substances a greater amount than she should, and her two cousins, the Striders, each of them with their own set of problems. She described it as:

“They both have problems with people, Kanaya, but it is the problems they have with themselves that are the most alarming.”

So it was all these things that were bottled up in the human called Rose Lalonde—the sweet attraction, the bravery, her Sight, her friendship—that caused Kanaya to merely shake her head, and not warn her friend,

“No, I suppose I am just tired.”

Rose nodded, “Indeed, I do not blame you. It had already been a long trip. Though it has been much, much harder on the boys.”

Instantly, Kanaya put down the grape she had been about to pop into her mouth, “Have you Seen them recently? In visions? In your orb? Can you tell me what you say? Please?”

“Yes, I have seen them. Last night, while you slept, I gazed into the white orb I have in my possession. I do not always use it—it can give me horrible migraines—but I felt it would help strengthen my Sight at the time. They have passed through LOHAC and Skaia, but unfortunately, things did not go well in the latter. Dave was shot, but his wounds are healing; Karkat, thankfully, was spared. They took a detour through the Helium Caverns near the city, and are on their way to Neon.”

Kanaya sighed in relief, “They will be okay there. You said your sister is there, yes?”

“Indeed,” Rose smiled, “Roxy will be glad to welcome them, I am sure. And Karkat can hold his own.” She paused, glancing down at her drink, “He is growing so much—Karkat, I mean. Though in their own ways, both of them are.”

“Truly?”

“Yes. You would be quite proud of them.”

Kanaya sighed, and gave a small smile, “I am sure I would be…”

But her smile faded subtly when she gazed up again—the stranger was still staring at her.

Yes, the one who had been following them…He was a water breather, most likely a sea-dwelling troll if the pipe between his black lips were anything to go by. His eyes were hidden, but she guessed they were Royal Violet—the dark purple cape around him was a dead giveaway, as were the golden rings decorating his fingers.

She had learned from an early age to watch herself—she had seen dangers and terror in the Capital during times of distress; she had healed the sick, sewn up the stabbed, and buried the dead members of her MatriChurch. So she knew when a danger was possibly present—possibly, because, she knew, the entire ordeal they were going through had given birth to paranoia and the jade-blooded girl told herself she may be worrying just a bit too much.

Maybe.

Regardless, she took her drink in hand, chugging it down as quickly, but politely, as possibly, and finished it with a sigh, giving her companion a smile.

“Come, let us go outside!”

“…Right now?”

“Yes, why not?” Kanaya stood, dusting off her green and black robes, fixing the collar of said robes out of sheer nerves, “I believe some air shall do me some good-“

“But Kanaya, we just came in from outside not even thirty minutes ago…Are you sure you’re well?”

“Yes! Of course! Come, bring the food with you, or pack it away, whatever you choose!”

Briskly, she walked, and did not look back, but she quickly noticed that Rose did obey her, picking up the food and packing it away in her sylladex.

She also noticed that the stranger slid out quietly from his seat, and was silently following behind them…

Which in turn made the troll girl wonder thus: how long had this stranger been following them? Had it been all the way back at the Capital? Just a bit past that?

How had she not noticed, if that was the case?

And, even scarier, how had Rose not noticed…?

Or had she?

“Kanaya, where are we going, exactly?” Rose came into step beside her, confusion evident on her face, “Are you sure you are well? You look a bit peaked…”

She chuckled, “You worry too much about me, dear. I am perfectly okay. I believe it is just fatigue, stress…the normal things one should probably feel in our situation.”

Rose hesitated, then asked again, “Are you sure…?”

“Positive!” She glanced around, feeling the eyes of the outsider on her back, she guessing he had taken up to hiding in the shadows; her eyes fell on a group of children, and, struck by logical inspiration, she moved towards them with a lie of a smile painted on her face.

She had always loved children—it had been born into her, because of her blood caste, and because of who she knew she was born to be. And they were drawn to her, like baby bumblebees to their queen. They had been playing with burnt and sharp rocks and cracked marbles for fun, but once Kanaya came over to them, they dropped their toys and turned wide, yet just a bit afraid, eyes upon her. Each them a different troll or human, the group entirely of different blood castes and human skin tones.

“Children! Would you like a song?”

The group of younglings gasped and awed at the question; she was a stranger, and a beautiful one at that, clad in robes of the finest Grubbian silk, with a veil behind her back, and beautiful makeup on her lips and cheeks. She was different, she was kind, and she spoke softly as she took a little girl’s hand, and spun her around gleefully, causing the child (and the other ones) to giggle.

She had always took care of kids and one day dreamt of having her own—she had sung to them back home, back in her now destroyed home, and she found no reason to stop doing such an action. Even if, in the back of her mind, she could not help but ask herself and God if those children from before—the ones back home—were still alive, or had they been taken away by the chaos of The End?

So now, here in this small town, she took out her small tambourine with bells and cymbals and beat it against her soft hands and danced in a circle around the babes and children at her feet, singing softly,

The rainbow is pretty, colorful and bright,

Brighter than Mister Sun,

Softer than Miss Night

It makes us Happy! It makes me Smile!

It’s a Gift from God,

They began singing with her, and she spun around just a bit faster, holding one little troll boy’s hand, a pudgy rust-blood troll, and then held a little blue-blooded girl’s hand, making sure to hold each and every hand at least one, or touch their heads in a sign of blessing,

It’s a Gift from God, just like Me,

The Rainbow smiles Down on We,

Because we’re all different colors of two special species,

From Red to Teal to Blue to Purple-Pink, to Blond Hair and Freckles and Dark Skin are We

Kanaya closed her eyes, her feet and melody taking her back in time; back in time to a place when she was younger, had seen less death and fire, and would dance and sing in the Capital Square for its children. And little Karkat would be amongst the children, but never a participant. He would sit there, pouting, with his little nubby arms crossed, a tiny smile hidden on his face; because even if he was embarrassed by his ‘sister’, he still enjoyed the song.

She almost wished she could just spin faster and faster, go back and fix everything—maybe tell Karkat everything that would happen, warn and save her Mother (but her Mother had not even wanted to be saved, right?), maybe save the church, save Karkat, save someone…

We’re all Different, and that’s okay,

Because Me really means We,

And We are God,

And She is We…

Save anyone…Because as she kept going, she just felt that everyone by her side was being taken, and that she herself was a helpless creature…

And as she finally opened her jade eyes, to see Rose bemusedly shaking her head at her and the kids at her feet, she saw what she hadn’t been hoping to see…

You see, Kanaya had hoped being with the children would result in the first of two options regarding the stranger: the male would unveil himself and apologize for being shadowy, for being fear-inducing, and would talk to her. Maybe apologize, maybe state who he was—perhaps he was even an admirer of them! Perhaps he was a former MatriChurch parishioner, and was just shy in regards to interaction. Or maybe he even found them to be beautiful women, and would give them a royal purple rose, out of compassion?

Any of those options would have been good, grand even…

But they weren’t what Kanaya got.

Because as she turned once more in a circle, the song’s lyrics still flying like doves from her lips, the stranger strode closer, a purpose in his steps, his hands going to his cloak to unbutton it…

And a gray hand flung it aside into the air, and time seemed to slow down…

The unknown male creature looked everything like a troll—candy-corn colored horns with jagged tips, gray skin, purple irises with yellow eyes and black pupils and black lips…

Except for the giant, light-violet wings he unfurled that were akin to a bat’s.

The children saw them at the same time she did, and a little girl let out a scream of terror, stopping her dancing; and just like that, the other young ones picked up the shout, some screaming for their mothers, some screaming for help, and some just screaming and letting out a heartbreaking noise.

But what happened next was even worse, and it became a sight that was burned into the corneas of all who witnessed it…

The boys and girls scattered at Kanaya’s feet, running towards their homes—while the creature in front of her brandished a pointy, white wand, twirling it in his fingers; a dark and light blue scarf swirled in the breeze around him, and with a snap of his fingers, the cloak he had thrown off returned to his side, curling itself around his body into a cape with a high collar.

And before she could even react, the creature moved its wand-holding arm, swishing it in the air before him, and then flicking his wrist forward—and a white lightning bolt akin to a tentacle shot from it…

Striking one of the fleeing children, the rust-colored boy Kanaya had adored, the shot hitting him, resulting in the boy falling to the ground with a hole protruding from his stomach.

“NO!” Kanaya finally found the courage to scream at the horror of the child being killed right in front of her, his eyes glassy, his mouth open just a tad—and the rest of the children hollered with unfiltered fear, and ran faster—but not fast enough.

One by one, the creature shot out more bolts of white-light, each striking another child down. A girl, then a boy, then a pair of twins, then another sibling pair…Though they ran, ran as fast as possible, the demon was faster—and keener on sight. He did not pause to breathe, to line up another shot—he knew where they were going to be, how fast he needed to be…

It was as if he sensed something in them that made his aim easier…a type of drive, a type of microscopic light…

A kind of Hope…

>p>Kanaya, hyperventilating, frozen to the spot she stood on, could only scream more,

“STOP THIS! STOP! DON’T KILL THEM, PLEASE!”

She grabbed a little girl as she ran by, hoping to shield her with her body—she was worthy of taking the hit after all!—but it failed; the creature—the demon, what else could it be?—raised his wand to eye-level, staring at her as she moved as quickly as possible and a tiny, white ray shot out—and struck the girl through the skull, tiny spouts of yellow-colored blood shooting onto Kanaya’s robes.

“NO!” The Maryam shrieked, clutching the girl’s corpse to her body, “STOP THIS, PLEASE!”

Rose, having been in a shocked stupor at what was going on, awoke from it and charged at the demon, her companion’s shriek and green-colored tears streaking down her cheeks snapping her out of it. But Rose, despite her mental strength, did not have the capacity to physically tackle the other. And when she lunged for his wand, her dainty hands grabbing onto his gray ones, it wasn’t enough; with a strike of his elbow, the male knocked the wind out of her, and sent Rose falling to the ground to continue his onslaught.

Silently, coldly, he swished out his wand again and again, striking down the last of the remaining children; those that had been too afraid or too slow to move in the beginning; the orphans who had no place to run to, and had thus taken to hiding behind a corner or in a doorway, only to be slaughtered on the spot.

And a slaughter it was…

When the demon finally lowered his weapon, Kanaya, in a state of shock, counted twenty dead children…

And there had been twenty in total when she had begun dancing.

And then the creature—of all things—sighed tiredly, putting his wand away with a snap of his fingers.

“R-Really, Miss Maryam. Using children as a shield? You sh-should have seen this coming.”

His voice was much akin to a little boy’s, with a higher-pitched drawl with a nervous spasm in each sentence, a stutter that was accompanied by a twitch of his fingers; where one would expect a strong, masculine voice from such a mass-murderer, he sounded like a thirteen year old with acne and puberty woes.

And Kanaya could only stare at him, still holding the dead girl in her arms, with frightened eyes, her entire frame shaking, while Rose finally shook herself up enough to sit up on the ground.

“W-Who are you? AND THOSE CHILDREN WEREN’T A SHIELD! YOU HAD NO REASON TO KILL THEM, WHOEVER YOU ARE!”

The demon shrugged, “C-Children are a sign of Hope. It’s quite easy for me to take them away from this place. I am sure, in some alternate place, they are still alive and content.”

She was noticing now how he stuttered—stuttered! Of all things!—when he spoke, but kept a calm, potent-with-egocentrism air about him.

“Tell me now: Who. Are. You?”

The boy sighed as if being put out, “I…am Eridan Ampora, Miss Maryam. A-And I am the Demon of Destroyed Hope. Hence, the dead c-children, obviously.” He gestured to the mass puddles of different colors of blood—ironically, a rainbow of sorts.

“You are a monster,” She snarled, “A horrible creature-“

“Yes, yes, I have h-heard this all before. Blah, blah, blah,” Eridan imitated with his hand like a punk kid, “I get it. You d-don’t like what I do. F-Fortunately for m-me, the Grand High Blood—L-Lucifer to your little h-human girlfriend over there—does.”

Slowly, Kanaya set the dead child down onto the ground, closing her eyes and giving the sign of the Signless above her head—a circle with a tail, two in total—before straightening herself, eyes and muscles steeling themselves, her anger fully forth, fangs showing.

“You take away Hope from people…Is that is? That is what you do?”

“C-Correct! Though I thought w-we already established that w-when I told you those e-exact words, M-Miss M-Maryam.” Eridan smiled gleefully, a hand coming up to fluff his short, black hair, the very front of it with a purple streak, and then straightening his large, rectangular glasses, “You see, Miss Maryam, they call me the M-Master Assassin of Heaven, because of w-w-what I do, and have been doing for centuries. And I s-see no reason to stop now.”

“And what do you want with me? WHY DID YOU COME HERE!?”

“For you, obviously. Why else would I belittle myself by coming to such a d-decrepit place?”

“You think yourself so high and mighty, DEMON?”

“Of course.” Eridan gave her a petulant look, as if he could not believe what she was saying—which, he didn’t, “I am the Demon of Destroyed Hope—by all technicalities, they call me a ‘Prince’ in Hell.” He snorted, “And truly, I am more of a r-real prince than either of the M-Makara brothers. Honestly,” He scoffed, shaking his head and giving the girls a roll of his eyes, “Lucifer gives birth to t-two s-sons, and one turns himself into a mute f-freak of nature that wears skeleton clothing—and may make something of himself, maybe—while his other boy is even worse. A foolish boy w-w-who drinks disgusting soda and is technically the ‘Bard’ of Rage—and all three of us here knows what ‘Bard’ means in Old Alternian, y-yes?”

Now it was Kanaya’s turn to snort, “I do not care about the politics of Hell-“

“Ah, b-but you should. Because it is us ‘politicians’ who are going to end the lives of both K-Karkat V-Vantas and D-Dave S-Strider.”

“Not as long as we are alive,” Kanaya spat back at him, and Rose came running to her side, nodding in agreement, while gripping the taller one’s arm.

“But that’s just it, Miss M-Maryam….After today, you are c-certainly not going to be alive.”

“But why me? Why come after me? Don’t mistake me, wretch of Hell—I would rather it be me than my beloved boy—but what is your reasoning?”

Eridan raised an eyebrow at her, “You don’t kn-know? Oh…Well. I-Interesting.” He paused for effect, “You are the N-New Mother…Just as he is the New Messiah, y-you are the New Mother…t-the new Dolorosa…His New Beacon of H-Hope. A-And because of that, you must be o-obliterated…”

“Obliterated like your stupid stutter should be?” Rose, for all of her calmness that usually was alive in her body normally, snapped this question with hostility, and Eridan retaliated with a glare; he moved to speak, but Kanaya stopped him before he could utter a syllable.

“Rose, please…I shall handle this.”

“But…Kanaya, I-“

“Yes, S-Seer, let the New Mother h-handle this. I’m sure she’s quite capable of doing s-so. Don’t you? A-After all, I am sure you have seen ho-how strong Kanaya is to be, yes?”

The human, though silent in words, visibly paled at Eridan’s prompt; and though she tried to move her tongue to form words, and even tried to make a motion towards her friend, maybe a hand on her elbow, or her shoulder, all attempts failed with Kanaya proudly strode in front of her, back straight as she reached into her pocket…for her lipstick.

“You wish to challenge me? Fine. I accept. As a Sister of the Matrichurch, I shall show you no mercy. But, to make this fair, I will not spray you with holy water.”

“R-Really? Even if it would give you an advantage, M-Miss?” Eridan quipped with a sneer as once again, he unfurled a wand—not just one, but two this time. Each white as fresh snow, one in each gray hand.

“You wish to strife with me like a warrior, I shall please you,” The girl replied, uncapping the makeup, to softly coat her black lips, until they shone with a green glimmer, “But when I burn your body, I cannot promise I won’t use holy water on it.”

The demon chuckled, “You give me t-too much honor, Miss Maryam, truly.” And he threw off his cape, his completely black shirt standing out against his blue neck adornment, fangs glistening with pompous propriety.

“As a Sister, I am bound by honor,” Kanaya retorted, finishing up her makeup, “But that does not mean I shall refrain from being merciless and blood-thirsty for revenge.”

She growled then, and twisted the bottom of her lipstick tube…

And the makeup instantly, with a mechanical whirl, unveiled itself and became a massive chainsaw; the handle was a dark green like the lipstick itself, the device large enough for Kanaya to hold with both hands, yet it was light and easily moveable. It whizzed to life, gears grinding, the blades shining in the sunlight.

Eridan showed an type of sick admiration at the revelation, and even gave a short bark of a laugh,

“W-Well. Isn’t that a surprise?”

“I hope you did not think I was completely weaponless and something to not be feared.”

“Hardly, M-Miss Maryam. But a chainsaw? Don’t tell me your Mother carries one of those.”

Kanaya found herself snarling, “My Mother is dead, for your information, and no, she did not. I was given this because I was the most viable asset of protection for our Church, and our New Messiah.”

“Really? I-I shall have enjoyment in proving them wrong.” Eridan twirled a wand between his fingers, as the female opposite him crouched down.

“And I shall find enjoyment in shedding your blood, in the name of these dead children, in the name of my MatriChurch, and in the name of the New Messiah!” She shouted back, “And I shall make sure you never hurt my Karkat!”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

And with that sneer, that last derogatory bark of antagonizing words, Kanaya charged, a shout on her lips, a battle-cry echoing out, and Eridan unfurled his wings to their fullest wing-span, and took to the air. Instantly, Kanaya knew she was at a disadvantage; the creature could fly, and, of course, as he was doing now, aim for her from the air. White bolts of light, visibly tinged with drips of yellow, she could see that now up close, flew at her, whizzing past her as she kept up her movements. The metal on her chainsaw—still giving its shrill battle-cry—was a useful shield, and it easily deflected any bolts she knew she could not avoid.

The only problem was that those bolts had to go somewhere, and before she knew it, Eridan’s attacks were flying every which way; some were charring the tips of houses, some were barely missing the feet of curious bystanders , and Kanaya knew she had to do something.

“ROSE!” She screamed, dodging another bullet of white-light just in time, “CAN YOU PUT UP A SHIELD?”

The blond human, with wide eyes and nervous hands, had been watching the exchange with rapt attention and evident fear; but she nodded at Kanaya’s words, closed her purple orbs, and took in a breath. Bowing her head and outstretching her hands, Rose’s body hummed with orange light and sparks of energy, and not twenty seconds later did orange-yellow light come from her hands, it swirling out like ocean waves over the two fighting beings; a dome formed above their heads, the ends of it sinking in to the dirt beneath their feet—and as long as Rose held her concentration, with eyes tightly shut, it would stay that way.

“THAT A GIRL!” Kanaya encouraged as she dodged another shot of light, and then turned to snarl at her rival, “Come down and face me like a true fighter, you wretched abomination!”

“Mm-mm-mm!” Eridan shook his head, smirking, while even wagging a finger at her, “You should have asked me nicely, M-Miss Maryam.” He shot another bolt of white light, Kanaya’s left foot barely missing it…

And then vanished completely.

The dome was filled with silence, and the jade-blood kept whipping her head around, looking for her target—but he never came…

Until it was in a flash of immeasurable speed.

Eridan zoomed at her, and she barely dodged him—she moved away from him quick enough to notice that his hands were now devoid of wands.

Quickly, again and again, he came at her, like a fly that could turn invisible; attacking its target from every which way, the Sister just barely avoiding him. She could not guess where he could come from next—sometimes from the left, sometimes from the right, zooming from one end of the dome to the opposite, then starting again. Sometimes, he came at her from the top, and one time even up from the ground itself.

“Enough of this game!” Kanaya bellowed after some moments, “I order you to—“

But the end of her statement never came, and instead she gasped out vocally—as a hand gently touched her back.

A small, bleached-out light appeared from her back, right above her heart; Eridan had nearly caressed her like a lover, his fingertips gentle like a rose. But the moment they left her skin, Kanaya let out a breath and fell to her knees, drained of all energy.

“Kanaya?!” Rose shouted out from outside, eyes still pinched close, but she didn’t need her physical eyes to truly See. “Kanaya? Are you well? What’s wrong!?”

Said troll could not speak—suddenly, she felt weak, pitiful, and downright lifeless…The world was colored gray in her eyes—not physically gray, of course—but she felt an overbearing sadness settle over her shoulders, it strong enough to cause her to hang her head. Despair overtook her soul, and her legs felt weak; her weapon-bearing hands fell to the side, the chainsaw still alive and active, but digging its points into the ground.

“Nnh…” Suddenly, she was seeing and feeling dark images in her mind—images of death, of how she was feeble. How she was a useless creature that had gotten children killed! Images of dead Karkats—her own, others from other timelines, surely—filled her brain, and the words ‘you did this’ flooded her ears like water from a burst dam. The chainsaw called to her not for use on Eridan, but on herself—because everything, every oncoming death, every past death, of her Mother, of the Capital citizens, of these innocent children, was because of her… Her heart was weak, beating slowly…

Suddenly, and without warning, she had been attacked by an onslaught of depression…

Of Hopelessness…

“W-What did you do to me?” Her voice was tired as she sat upon her knees, all thoughts of fight blown away from her mind; The Ampora creature stood behind and above her, and gently, almost as if he was blessing her, he brought his hands up to grip Kanaya’s hair, pulling her head back so she could gave up at his face, and he pressed a thumb to the girl’s forehead—and she screamed, a sorrowful bellow of pain and a silent plea for mercy, while his face was stony and blank.

“Removed your hope, o-of course. A common tactic I u-use on all the so-souls I take. After all,” He paused for effect, “Those w-w-who c-commit suicide are said to h-have demons in their mind, y-yes?”

“You…You do this…to people—AH!”

“I de-destroy Hope. H-How else would I do it, besides just killing?” He snorted, “Killing…It’s too quick. Too much blood, all the time. Slow and painful is more…artistic…”

“Nnh…Stop…Please…” Now his hands were buried into her hair, fingers massaging her scalp, and the voices—the screams, the images, the rain of sadness—was becoming stronger in her soul, and she felt even weaker, even smaller.

Eridan bent down, to whisper in her ear with a devilish smile,

“I think we both know how you can end this, M-Miss Maryam…”

She would have found it funny—and sad—that his stutter was less when he spoke of death, killing, and Doomed Hope. It was as if that if he was not speaking of that, he could barely speak at all….

But all she could think about that maybe he was right…Maybe it would be better if she ended herself now—she couldn’t protect Karkat, who was she kidding? And who knows? Maybe Rose had just been lying to her about the Vantas boy being alive…Maybe he was already dead, and there really was no purpose to her even trying…

Kanaya whimpered, and Eridan vanished once again; not fully true, though, because he merely chose to float above her, the girl unable to see him because tears were falling from her open eyes, said eyes staring at nothingness ahead of her.

“Kanaya….? KANAYA!” Rose, still without physical sight so she could work her shield powers, could still hear—and she didn’t like what she was hearing, “KANAYA! I do not know what is going on, but you need to snap out of it! PLEASE! I don’t know what you’re feeling, or what he’s doing, but you need to SNAP OUT OF IT!”

“…But it’s not even worth it…” Kanaya found herself whispering, her right hand slowly slinking towards her chainsaw.

“What isn’t worth it!?”

“Fighting him…Fighting any of it. Karkat’s going to die—or is already dead.”

“NO!” Rose shouted back, her normally calm demeanor gone, realizing how desperate the situation had become just by the dull tone of Kanaya’s voice, “KARKAT IS ALIVE! I would have told you differently if he wasn’t, yes!? YOU NEED TO TRUST ME ON THAT, KANAYA! HE’S ALIVE AND WELL! REMEMBER?”

“But…But I can’t see him… I can’t hear him…I can’t protect him…”

“YOU CAN! BUT YOU DON’T HAVE TO!” The human shouted back, “LISTEN TO ME! Karkat has MANY people protecting him: NOT JUST YOU! Dave CARES ABOUT HIM! More than he probably knows, and he WILL PROTECT HIM! And so will I! YOU KNOW THAT! YOU DON’T HAVE TO PUSH THIS BOULDER ALONE! YOU NEVER HAVE!”

“But…Rose…It’s all my fault….I never…I never warned him…My Mother-“

“YOUR MOTHER KNEW SHE WAS GOING TO DIE, KANAYA! YOU NEED TO LET THAT GO! IT WAS EITHER HER, OR YOU, AND IT HAD TO BE HER! OR KARKAT WOULD HAVE DIED! TRUST ME—I SAW THAT OPTION.”

“But…”

“SHUT UP!” Rose screeched back at her, “Look, I don’t know what he’s making you see, making you think, but NONE OF IT IS REAL! BUT I AM! BUT KARKAT IS! HE’S ALIVE, AND YOU NEED TO TRUST ME ON THAT FACT. YOU NEED TO TRUST IN ME THAT I’VE SEE THAT DAVE WILL SAVE HIM OVER AND OVER AGAIN—THEY WILL BE OKAY!”

Kanaya, mind contorted with Eridan’s powers and Rose’s encouraging words, began to hurt, and she hung her head, hands coming to grip her hair tight enough to pull out some strands.

“But…But…Oh God, I can’t think…”

“DON’T THINK THEN! JUST LISTEN TO ME!” The Seer threw out, “LISTEN TO ME: IF YOU DON’T GET UP AND FIGHT THIS MONSTER, BOTH OF US WILL DIE. DO YOU THINK JUST KILLING YOURSELF WILL STOP HIM FROM HARMING ME? OR KARKAT AND DAVE?”

“….I…I didn’t think-“

“Because he’s making you think HOPELESS THOUGHTS! Not the result of SAID THOUGHTS! And do you think Karkat would WANT THIS!? TO SEE YOU SO WEAK, OVER SOME PUNY, INCOMPETENT DEMON THAT CAN’T EVEN TALK? AND WHAT WOULD YOUR MOTHER SAY?!”

“…M-My mother is dead-“

“NOT THAT MOTHER!” Rose bellowed, and the last thing she shouted out to her was, “YOUR REAL MOTHER—THE DOLOROSA! WHAT WOULD SHE SAY!?”

And just like that—a chord was struck in Kanaya Maryam.

What would The Dolorosa say?

Here she was, on bended knees, to a demon of all things…Thinking nonsense, thinking chaotic thoughts that had no purpose of existing…

And The Dolorosa? Why, she had never done such a thing. Growing up as a slave child on ships owned by the nefarious Mindfang Family—and then eventually by the Marquise Spinneret herself, who became her secret lover until The Dolorosa had been freed by the Marquise out of love—the jade-blooded ancestor had never shown true, clear hopelessness. Not even when she raised The Signless on her own; not when she helped lead his rebellion and planned his sermon routes with only the help of a few others. She showed no fear when her Son fell in love with a human, a love that was stronger than most—if not all—currently existing relationships in the world at that time. And she showed only sadness and pain at her Son’s murder, not fear for her future, and no fear for her future world, because she knew it would bring changes—slowly, but surely.

And Kanaya knew that The Dolorosa had not shown fear even when she died, a slave once again, but this time to the Orphaner Dualscar—who, even though he would eventually turn sides and help the Signless’ people, got The Dolorosa killed. Accidentally, really, because everyone knew that The Condesce was a jealous soul…But thankfully, the Orphaner had had enough class to bury her next to her Son, and secretly pass on letters of goodbye to the Marquise and the Disciple (along with various important documents). And if he felt some compassion for the woman, well, that had been no secret either.

So what, pray tell, would her Real Mother (was it true? Was she genetically related to The Dolorosa? Was it not just a dream?) tell her? Think of her?

She would be abhorrently disappointed in you…

She never got on her knees in despair and hopelessness once, and yet here you are, already giving up…?

Rose is right. Rose was right. ROSE. IS. RIGHT.

Her eyes had fallen closed at the Seer’s last encouraging question, but now they flashed open—a fire, a fire of rage, of power, stroking them, and with shaking bones, she stood. Eridan’s powers were still in her body, and she still felt weak, but she had to stand—she had to fight.

“I…will not…stand down!” She shouted out, grabbing her chainsaw, just as the demon reappeared, and lunged at her.

She dodged it, just in time, because her feet were shaking so badly; but she found the energy to shout out,

“You shall not kill me here, y-you wretched monster! I WILL NOT DIE…LIKE…A WEAKLING!”

Eridan lunged at her again, and this time, with huffing and puffing breath, Kanaya swung her chainsaw, just missing her adversary—but she managed to clip his wing.

“I…SHALL MAKE SURE…YOU END YOUR REIGN HERE!” Another swing, another miss, “I…WILL MAKE SURE…YOU DO NOT LAY A HAND…ON MY BOY!” She swung again, sidestepping Eridan at the same time.

“AND FINALLY,” She screamed out, and with all her might, Kanaya raised her chainsaw above her head; she was sweating profusely, as her mind waged a war inside, still fighting off Eridan’s words and magic, while repeating Rose’s words as an opposing force; her legs were weak, her arms even weaker, but she raised the weapon above her head, standing her ground, figuring her enemy would try for a full-on frontal attack now, “FINALLY! I…” The Maryam girl took in another breath, pausing, and screamed,

“I WILL MAKE MY MOTHER PROUD!”

And she was right—Eridan did fly at her front…

But he was armed with a wand.

And he was quicker.

Time seemed to slow as she tried to bring the chainsaw down on the demon—but it was too late.

Eridan’s wand touched her stomach, and her eyes widen…

Just in time to see a giant column of white light burst through, and shoot through her body—causing a giant hole to appear where her stomach—and, ironically, her womb—had been.

The moment the blast sounded out through the town, Rose’s eyes opened—just in time to see jade-colored blood splatter everywhere.

And a distant voice screamed out—and Rose later realized it had been a strangled version of her own.

“KANAYA!”

She screamed just as the girl in question’s body hit the ground.

---

“Dave…He’s just sitting there.”

“I know, man. I have eyes, believe it or not.”

“No, seriously,” Karkat gripped the Knight’s arm a little bit tighter—not that Dave was going to complain—“He’s just…sitting there. Eating nasty shit. Bright…green…shit.”

“Kind of funny, I didn’t think demons ate anything.”

“He’s just…sitting there-“

“Karkat, sweetheart, as much as I love hearing you say crap over and over again, the point is getting old. I get it. The demon is just sitting there, eating shit.”

“I just…I don’t get it! Why is Gamzee-“

At hearing his name, the purple, make-up covered demon—who had taken to sitting on the dirt road a few feet away, legs crossed, a green pie in his lap—turned his head, bright eyes a bit glazed over due to the drugs he was consuming, gaze falling onto the two other males.

“You motherfuckers want some sopor pie?” He gave them a smile, green goop on the corners of his lips, and the demon even let out a little giggle at—probably—nothing.

“No thanks, man. Momma always told me not to do weed—Karkat, really…is cutting off circulation in my arm really necessary?”

Karkat’s claws flexed against Dave’s left arm, nails starting to dig into the human’s skin out of fear, and he shrunk just a bit behind the taller male.

“S-Shut up, Strider-“

“No, really, you holding onto me makes me feel like it’s fucking Christmas in July, Hallelujah, praise Troll Jesus, but really—calm your trollian tits. He’s obviously not here to kill you at this moment. Right?”

Well, that was the logical answer, yes. After Gamzee had appeared in the tree, he had hopped down with a joyful somersault, clapped his hands, and proclaimed that he was happy he found Karkat once again and…

Proceeded to sit on the ground and eat pie. Green, glowing pie that smelled of sulfur and nasty soda and…other things Karkat did not want to try and name.

It just made no sense.

But then again, looking at Gamzee overall, the demon himself didn’t make much sense.

“…Yeah…” Karkat lessened his grip, “But…then why is he here? He’s just si-“

“I swear to God, if you say ‘sitting there’ one more time, I will make this entire moment even more extremely uncomfortable for you. And you know I have the power to do that.”

The Vantas boy huffed, and shook his head, “Fine. You want me to get tough? I’ll get tough!” He quickly strode over towards the demon, and that caused alarm bells to sound off in Dave’s head,

“Woah, Kitten, I didn’t say go and confront the damn guy, shit, get back here-“

But Karkat ignored the other, as always, and situated himself on the ground in front of the creature; he crossed his legs in a mimicry motion, his arms following suit.

“Sup my little Holy motherfucker?” Gamzee’s demeanor visibly brightened at being joined by the other troll, “You want some pie-“

“No, I don’t want any pie. I want to know what you’re doing here, Gamzee.”

The creature in question merely shrugged, stuffing another handful of green goop between his black lips, “Just here to see my motherfucking best friend!”

“Say what?”

“Yeah, say what?” Dave scoffed; he had snuck up behind Gamzee, sword at the ready—he was just used to bad things happening by now, and Karkat being inches away from a demon just screamed ‘incoming homicidal incident’. “Kitten, since when did you get a best friend that wasn’t me? I’m offended. I’m broken-hearted. I’m not going to be able to move on. I’m going to call my best-girlfriend and cry over the phone to her about how Karkat Vantas has left me behind and in the dust.”

Karkat gave Dave a casual look of annoyance, but the look Gamzee gave the human was one of actual perturbation and anger; and the human could have sworn he heard a growl from the male in polka-dotted pants.

“Ignore the pasty one. And answer my question for real, Gamzee. Why are you here?”

“Fuck you, Vantas, I’m not pasty-“

“Man, it’s like I said. I just wanted to hang out with my new best friend. S’bit boring down in the Pits, man. Tartarus ain’t always gonna be my home.”

Karkat’s confusion was evident, eyebrows crooked and higher in elevation, “Uh-huh…Last time I checked, you nearly killed me just a few days ago.”

Gamzee blinked at that, and then let out a roaring laugh, with a few ‘HONK’s sprinkled in between his chortles,

“Man, everybody makes fucking mistakes! And I just wanted to bring you back to keep me company, best friend! Everyone else wanted you dead, and me, I realized that ain’t gonna be my scene. Nope, don’t have to.”

“…Are you…in a weird way…trying to apologize to me?”

Gamzee shrugged, “I dunno about that, my little blood brother, but why we gotta fight, is what I say. You’re really fucking chill, all up in some awesome stuff, going awesome places. Why can’t I motherfucking go with you, is what I’m thinking.”

Karkat’s eyes narrowed, gazing up and down at the other in front of him; his clothing was still the same as the last time they had seen each other--purple and black stripped shirt and polka-dotted pants—and his horns were still much too tall for Karkat’s liking and his hair was still a wild mess. White makeup was still on Gamzee’s face, and his bony fingers had purple fingernails, with purple-shoed feet to boot as well. It took Karkat another solid minute of staring at the other (Gamzee certainly not minding, if the dopey expression on his face said anything) before the five-sweeps old creature realized what was missing.

“Gamzee—where the fuck are your wings?”

“…Huh, best friend?” Okay, maybe the Makara boy had been staring off into space there instead of just gazing at Karkat patiently. Go figure.

“Where. Are. Your Wings? You know, those giant ones I saw when we first met. Remember?”

The creature blinked again, face sobering up into a type of blankness,

“Put ‘em away, best friend. Don’t need them when I’m up here.”

“Okay, now I know that’s bullshit—I’ve meet one other demon and two other angels so far, and Dave’s met another angel, and they’ve all used their wings in some way. Either through traveling, or intimidation, or something. You used your wings to scare the shit out of me when I met you in the church, so don’t pull that with me.”

“I really just don’t need them up here, motherfucker! Honest!” Gamzee tried to give the other a messy smile, with green goop in between his sharp teeth, like he was a child.

Karkat snorted, “For a demon, you’re a horrible liar. You’re clearly hiding your wings, asshole.”

“No, best friend, really, I just-“

Karkat stood, the motion coming out of seriousness, “Show me.”

“…Heh…What?” Gamzee kept up the smile, but no one could have missed the twitch of his lips, or of his right eye.

“Take out your wings. I want to see them, Gamzee.”

“Yeah, man,” Dave added, “Your bestest best friend wants to see your wings. You gonna deprive him?”

Gamzee’s eyes darted back and forth between the human and the troll, both standing in front of him now, arms crossed, Dave’s sword currently sheathed for a respite; the creature’s shoulders sank just a bit, and now, now, the smile vanished and turned into a frown.

“…It’d hurt if I took them out, motherfuckers. Like…really badly.”

“…Hurt? What do you mean, it would hurt?”

“They’re in pretty bad shape…”

Karkat and Dave glanced at each other, and Dave continued with,

“From…what? I know I gave you a good slice through one, but it wasn’t anything shit-serious—right? Because holy shit, if I did more damage than I thought, ten points to me.”

“Nah, that was easy to take care of. Was a nice swing, but I healed that up pretty damn fast once I got back to Hell.”

“Then what was it?” Karkat asked, “Did you get into an accident?” To the troll, it was a logical conclusion—Gamzee didn’t seem to be the brightest bulb in the store, and probably was a bit of a klutz on more than one occasion.

But the demon just hung his head, shaking it back and forth at the pace of a turtle for a moment,

“Nah…no accident…” Silence, then, “Then said I got what was coming to me.”

“Who said-“

But Dave never got to finish his question, because Gamzee doubled over, bending forward, his face scrunched up in pain, a low, whistling whine coming from his throat, like a dog with a sore paw, or a child with a scraped up knee.

Only what was revealed to them was much worse than a sore paw or a scraped knee.

Gamzee unfurled the remains of his wings—and that was all they could be described as: remains.

They were shredded to bits, and coated in purple blood; the thin parts used to catch air were like torn paper, fluttering there in the woods, caked in pus and blood and bits of broken bone. And said broken bones were those of the bones from his wings—they were cut up, as if a butcher had tried to cut them for a meal, and bits of them were visible to Karkat and Dave. And the thickest part of his wings—those that were attached to Gamzee’s body—were bruised and battered and stabbed, as if they had been nearly cut off—emphasis on nearly. They had been put through so much torture, that probably Gamzee wished they were gone, but had remained—to cause him even more pain.

Sitting there, he looked like a fallen little boy with nothing left in the world; purple-tinted tears escaped his eyes due to the pain and the realization of the truth to the others, and began to stream down his face.

“Oh my God…” Karkat gasped at the sight, the torture far beyond his comprehension, “Gamzee, who did this to you?”

“…My brother and Pops.”

“Holy shit,” Dave spoke up, “Your family did this to you? What the hell, man?”

“Exactly, pasty motherfucker—Hell. Pops is the King of Hell.”

That statement caused the duo to hesitate, and Karkat slowly, and carefully, chose his next words with great precision,

“Did…I hear you right? Your father…is the King of Hell? Is Lucifer?”

“S’what the humans call him, yeah. But the trolls know him as the motherfucking Grand High Blood. And Kurloz is my bro. Prince of Hell, Prince of Rage. Heir to the Throne.”

“…Why did they do this to you, Gamzee?” Karkat got onto his knees in front of the demon, whose face was turned downward, towards the ground, shame having overcome his form.

“’Cause I didn’t bring you back with me, motherfucking best friend. Remember how I disappeared? With one of my super-cool soda bombs?”

“Yeah…?”

“Went back to Hell, then. Had to report in what had happened. They had figured that this was gonna be my best chance to show Hell what I motherfucking am, right? Figured it would be easy too, best friend. Sneak up on ya, knock you out, cause some injuries, bring you back and Boss—that’s Pops—would be super miraculous and happy; and I was figurin’ we could be friends, you know? ‘cept I didn’t get to do that. And he got mad. Really mad.”

“…Then what happened?” Karkat lowered his tone, trying to catch the other’s gaze, but Gamzee merely curled up into himself more, pulling his knees up towards his chest in order to hug them.

“Pops said I was once again a motherfucking failure of a son. Said I lived up to my title as the ‘Bard of Rage’. Ain’t just the Demon of Rage—they gave me that title when I was a youngin’, best friend. Kurloz got ‘Prince’ and ‘Arch Demon’. ”

“…’Bard’?” Dave asked, glancing at Karkat for elaboration, and the troll found himself snarling out,

“’Bard’ is Old Alternian for ‘Stupid Son’. It used to be given to bastard children, those that were mentally ill, or just ones that were supposed to not grow up into greatness. Hence the new-era word of ‘bastard’ and the old-era word of ‘bardatini’. People either named their children Bard, or just gave them that title. What makes it worse in this case is that his brother’s name means ‘Prodigal Son’ in Old Alternian.”

“Well, shit, that’s an insult of immense proportions.”

Gamzee shrugged, “Never figured I should take it as an insult, pasty brother. Until he started yelling at me again—he really liked to yell at me. For eating pie, for liking Faygo, that delicious elixir of the Mirthful Messiahs, and for talking about them Messiahs, too. You know, the people that make everyone and everything happy and such. Good times. But this time, he was yelling at me for failing to get you, and I started asking about why it was such a big deal. What was so special about this motherfucker? And he told me that you were just fated to die, that’s it, we had to use your super special awesome shit to make Hell win big things. I didn’t get it, and said so, and he just got madder. And he finally said I wasn’t worth standing in his motherfucking presence, that I…” Gamzee sniffed then, wiping at his eyes, “That I was a failure as a demon…Ain’t worth the sulfur I was standing on…So he gave me over to Kurloz.”

“…And Kurloz did this to you?”

The youngest Makara nodded, “He strapped me down to a rock and began to slice into me, best friend. Cut my wings up for at least twenty minutes. It hurt…” He sniffed again, whimpering, “It hurt really badly…It still hurts really badly, best friend…A-And once he was done with me, he said I could walk out of Hell, not fly, s-so I did…walked all the way out…took me a few days…Managed to pick up your scent again, and I’ve been watching you. A-And you’ve been doing some really kick-ass things, motherfucker…S-So I really didn’t understand why you had to motherfucking die.”

“…Gamzee…”

“A-And now they said they don’t even want me back in Hell, man…Not even worth it. Said I’ve gone rogue. That I failed as a demon so I’m no longer one, best friend…” Gamzee hugged himself a bit more, “And I got nowhere else to motherfucking go. Gonna probably be killed if I go back to Hell.”

The demon hid his face in his knees, a whimper of sorrow escaping his lips; and Karkat took the initiative and slowly turned to his human companion, his expression clearly showing what he was thinking.

“No.” Dave said to him before he could even speak, “I know what you’re going to say. And my answer is no.”

“…Strider. Look at him. His family did this to him—his own flesh and blood.”

“Y-Yeah, I get that. But he’s a demon, for Christ’s sake! How do we know he didn’t do this on his own in order to trick-“

“I DIDN’T MOTHERFUCKING DO THIS TO MYSELF!” Gamzee, though in tears, could still hear, and he lifted his head at that statement to scream at the Strider boy, “WHY WOULD I DO THIS TO MYSELF, YOU SACK OF MOTHERFUCKING SHIT?!”

Gamzee finished his shouting there, and instead let out another sob of pain, hiding his face again, his body slowly beginning to rock back and forth—he was clearly a ticking time bomb.

“Gamzee…Easy…” Karkat reached out a hand, and Dave scoffed,

“You want to help the asshole even more after he shrieked at me? You’re kidding, right?”

“Dave.” Karkat’s voice was as hard as a boulder, “I’m going to ask you in the politest way possible—shut the hell up and let me calm him down. And yes, I’m going to help him, and yes, he’s coming with us.”

“…Okay, I’m starting to think somewhere along the way, you got knocked out and lost your mind. Did I slack on the job somewhere? Huh?”

But Karkat took the high road and ignored the other; instead, he scooted closer to Gamzee, and gently placed a hand on top of the creature’s head—and Gamzee’s body immediately stilled.

“Karkat-“

“Dave. I said shut up. So shut up, for the love of all that is holy, PLEASE. And just trust me!”

The Vantas boy moved his hand lower, and snuck it under the Makara’s chin, in order to lift his cranium up; teary, purple eyes connected with his own; there was wetness all down his cheeks, his makeup smeared and ruined, and snot dripping out of his nose. Gamzee’s body was thrumming with internal and external pain, and internal and external anger, and Dave feared that the demon would explode if he was triggered painfully enough.

But the trigger never came—because instead of causing more anger, more Rage and sorrow, Karkat did the exact opposite.

Calmly, even though internally he feared the worst would come if he continued, Karkat moved his hand from chin to cheek, and began to pap the other with the gentlest touches, and Gamzee only reacted by sniffling and blinking.

“Shh….” Karkat used his free hand to place a finger to his own lips, “Shoosh, now. Okay?”

“B-But-…HONK-“

“Shoosh. Relax. You’re going to be okay.”

It was the strangest sight Dave had ever seen—a religious Messiah comforting a demon—a demon that had wanted to kill him, even—and it only got stranger when Gamzee gave Karkat a little smile and nodded, and moved his body so he could embrace the other in a hug. The creature buried his head in the shoulder of the other, a final few tears coming out, but eventually he stilled, snuggling into the other in a way only a best friend would have done so. If Dave was a little bit jealous—which yes, he was—he tried not to let it show; but his awe did show. His awe at the fact that Karkat, an angry, raucous, troll with little experience with people, could calm a creature and soothe their soul as easily as Dave could spit out a rap or a ‘sick beat’.

And Karkat just sat there, holding the demon close, rubbing the top of his head, which both boys could now clearly see was coated in bits of dried purple blood from his attack, and it was clear that Karkat’s face hardened when he realized that fact; it became sterner, angrier at what had transpired for Gamzee. And it was easy to see why—Karkat believed in the bonds of family, of trust and blood. And here was the purple demon, betrayed by everyone he had ever known as family, not just his brother and father.

And as they sat there in that embrace, it was clear that Karkat was his father’s son—Dave found his shoulders relaxing as Karkat continued to murmur gentle whispers of ‘shoosh’ to the other, papping his head off and on for an even greater effect; in all truth, Dave found his whole demeanor relaxing now, because it was clear Karkat was handling the situation perfectly, with the greatest of ease. The Signless was showing through him, and maybe a small part of the Old Messiah was in the New One’s heart, coaxing him on, teaching him, showing him how to be. Who knew? And maybe the Old Messiah had been a comfort like this in his time, too, to demons with tortured souls and pasts…

It really didn’t matter, either way—seeing Karkat here, in his element…it showed how fast he was growing, how easy he was maturing, into what he was meant to become:

A Real Messiah. A Messiah of All People—demons included.

And maybe, just maybe, Dave thought to himself, he could be okay with that—if it meant Karkat was still alive.

Now, Dave thought to himself, if only he could change the world like that—right now, at thirteen, he never could see that happening. He could never see himself being as great as what Karkat was to become.

But who knew, right?

Stranger things had happened so far…

And if Dave became that great?

Well. It would be quite strange indeed…

---

As it turned out, Gamzee’s wings were irreparably damaged—or, at least when they were in Karkat’s hands they were. But for all the praying, soul-searching, and blood-summoning powers that the troll did (and tried to vehemently summon), it was all for nil. None of them was really sure whether it was because Gamzee was a demon and God could not (or would not) aid him, or if Karkat was just too weak to help, or if it was the weapon Kurloz had used against his kin; whatever the reason was, the best the traveling duo could do was bandage up the appendages the best they could, mostly to cover the exposed bone, and help the Makara boy onto his feet again. And once he stood, he gave them a smile, and folded his wings away to another plane of existence—or they just sunk into his body again, Dave and Karkat really didn’t know the difference.

“Thanks, blessed motherfuckers. You did your best, all this bitchin’ guy is gonna ask of you, you hear?”

“You’re welcome, Gamzee. Let me know if I can do any more for them.” Karkat replied, a hand on the demon’s elbow, who merely shook his head,

“Nah. Not even sure if your white little sheet things are gonna do the trick. Probably won’t. Ah, well, flyin’s for the fuckers who don’t get any mirthful enjoyment out of using their little toes, is what I say.”

They kept the conversation light amongst all three of them as they moved on—Dave in the middle, Gamzee on his left, Karkat on his right—and soon enough, Neon was in their sights, its borderline beneath their feet.

And it truly fit the description Dave gave of it earlier on; the thirty-mile walk had taken a great deal of time, and the sun was just setting over the city, but it seemed that darkness was already teeming amongst its lifeforms. Stacks of smog-pumping towers stood out on the skyline, while abandoned warehouses were littered throughout the city; to welcome at the gate was a sign of “CITY OF NEON” in, yes, brightly colored neon. There was neon all throughout the city—the gas having been harvested for use years beforehand, years and years before, when the city was still small—found in neon lights, neon signs, and neon-colored alcoholic drinks—that may have even contained the real noxious element, if one was unlucky. It was truly “the rainbow city” as many called it, but it wasn’t sweet like a rainbow. Karkat could smell dirt and decrepit lifeforms, could already see the rats running about trashcans and litter, the booze and the sex, and his nose wrinkled up in distaste.

“If any of my family ever lived here—okay, if I had actual family—I would disown them instantly. This is disgusting. Why the hell would your cousin choose to live here, Strider?”

Dave shrugged, “You’ll see why. She does…interesting work.”

“…Care to elaborate?”

“Nope.”

“Not even if I told you I wasn’t moving from this spot until you did so?”

“Nope. I’d just pick you up, throw you over my shoulder, and carry you in that way.”

Now it was Karkat’s turn to smirk, “And what if I told Gamzee to claw off your shame globes if you did that? Huh?”

Said demon didn’t pay attention to his name being called—he was blinded by the rainbow of blinking lights that transfixed him, his voice letting out gravelly little ‘oooh’s!—but regardless, Dave stiffened and had his face change as if he had smelled something rancid.

“Wow, already throwing me to your new guard dog? That’s a little too soon, don’tcha think?”

“Excuse you, but he isn’t my fucking guard dog. He’s our ally.”

“Uh-huh. Then why does he keep looking at me like he’s going to kill me in my sleep?”

Karkat smiled, and flippantly tossed his hand into the air, “Because he probably wants to. But that sounds like a personal problem, Dave.”

“Fuck you. When did you become such a sassy bitch?”

“I probably learned it from you.”

“Okay, that’s just-“

“Can we just get moving? I don’t want to stay here any longer than I have to—and I just stepped in something disgusting. It’s green, and moving, and-“

“Right, moving on!” Dave clapped his hands together, halting Karkat’s words, and snapping Gamzee out of his trance, so he could run back over to the other two boys, instead of staring at a glowing sign of a scantily-clad female troll; the human continued on, with,

“So since you two have never been in such a tough joint like Neon, I better explain a few dozen things to you. Lay down some ground-rules. Got it? Don’t have to thank me, just consider it a blessing from the Strider Clan.”

“I’d rather stick flaming wood in my auricular sponge clots than listen to you and your putrid words and-“

“HONK-“

“OKAY! Rule one!” The blond shouted over the other two, “Rule one is to not look people in the eye here. That’s how you get into rumbles and fights and get shanked.”

“…What is ‘shanked’?”

“Kitten, I’m not going to explain that to you. Okay? Just listen to me, and don’t pay attention to any of these other assholes around here. And-“ But as the Strider boy turned to the companion on his right…he noticed that the spot Karkat had once occupied was now empty.

“Uh-“

“HONK! Look, you pasty motherfucker!” Gamzee, for all his confusing sentences, came in handy with his exclamation, and the pointing of a bony finger; Dave glanced over at his target, and yes, it was Karkat…

And yes, he was crouched down, watching a group of burly men play a game of craps with—probably—loaded dice.

“Oh come on, I just said the first rule, and already you’re breaking them-“

But Dave didn’t have enough time to respond—because the men, powerful, gray-skinned trolls of cerulean and indigo blood, noticed the smaller, teenage troll and immediately halted their hands.

“What’cha looking at, kid?”

“Apparently illegal gambling. Right?”

The blue-bloods snickered, and their leader, who was a cerulean, surprisingly, stood, crossing his lanky arms. An eye-patch hid his left eye, but his right was pure and clear, with a light blue iris full of wrath.

“You got some nerve, kid. What are you, a rat for the police?”

“Hardly. I’m just not the kind of person to waste useable money on stupid, childish games. Especially since when I can tell that three-fourths of this party is cheating. It’s clearly obvious-“ Unfortunately, Karkat’s mouth, a familial trait of being loud and long-winded, didn’t help him here, “That three of you are in possession of loaded dice—I watched you throw them, mind you—and two of you are probably willing to throw the game in order to…what was the word…’shank’ the other three later? I think shank was the word.”

“…You got some mouth on you, kid.” The leader put his hands together, and began to crack his knuckles and that was the only sign Dave needed to hurry his steps over to Karkat as fast as he could, muttering,

“Shit, shit, you just couldn’t leave well enough alone—KARKAT!”

But he couldn’t hurry fast enough, because the leader took a swing at the troll, whose own face blanched out of being scared; but, whether it was holy intervention, or sheer, maturing strength, or even possession from The Signless, Karkat’s right hand flew up to catch the bigger male’s fist, holding it tightly in his own, a motion made out of fear and protection.

“Uh-“ That had ben Dave, whose feet halted when Karkat made his move.

“The hell?!” The leader shouted, his youthful body and muscles failing him—his hand was stuck in Karkat’s grip; and before he knew it, the smaller troll, with all his might, charged forward, shoving the cerulean blood’s fist back into his own face. The shock of the motion caused the taller one to fall back, onto the ground, Karkat charging forward to land on top of the other. In a flash, on instincts alone, Karkat wrestled them to the ground, freeing his right hand in order to summon his sylladex with his left, and the pair of black sickles he owned immediately afterward. The weapons flew into the air for a few short seconds—just as the other blue bloods got to their feet—and Karkat managed to hold a blade to the leader’s neck just as the other degenerates grabbed their own blades, while the Vantas boy’s other sickle was pointed outwards towards them.

“…Woah.” Was all Dave could say, mouth falling open while Gamzee clapped cheerfully next to him, honking all the while.

“I suggest you move along, you belligerent and immoral sinners. Unless you want me to cut his throat open.” Karkat growled off, patience worn thin, and he even nicked the other’s chin to show that, yes, he wasn’t kidding.

Silence echoed out for a moment, before the sweating, shocked leader of the blue-bloods barked,

“You heard the son of a bitch! Move out of here!”

And just like that, his crew fled, and Karkat lessened his grip and lowered his blades; the troll beneath him pushed him to the side, into the cobblestone streets and dirt, and ran after his friends, leaving the trio of teens looking after them.

“…What…What was that?” Dave stuttered out, pointing after the fleeing males as Karkat returned to his side.

“I was curious.”

“You…were curious.”

“Yes. I’d not actually seen real, illegal gambling before.”

“I got THAT!” Dave exclaimed, “I meant the whole fucking Jackie Chan moves you pulled back there! How the hell did you do that!?”

“Why are you so fucking surprised?!” Karkat spat back, “Did you think I couldn’t defend myself?”

“Uh. Well-“

“Tell me, Strider. Have I yet encountered an enemy—besides Gamzee—that actually fought me in physical, hand-to-hand combat while we were out here? Have you seen me take them on? Gamzee doesn’t count because it was a surprise attack, and I didn’t have sickles on me.”

“U-Uh…” The human took the time to think; now that Karkat mentioned it, he had a point. The enemies they had encountered so far were Terezi (who had used sneak tactics to try and kill Karkat), Aradia (who had just threatened them), the Skaian police (who had used guns, not hand to hand), and Equius (who had challenged Dave, not Karkat). He had not actually seen the Vantas boy physically fight in any sense, because most of what they had been doing was traveling and out-maneuvering the enemy, so…

“So you…can fight?”

“Yes, dipshit! I’ve been trying to fucking tell you that for days! I’ve just had wounded hands from the fire, and haven’t had a chance to do anything because we haven’t been fighting like that! And okay, maybe I’m not the best, but I can at least kick and punch, and I’ve…well. I’ve been secretly practicing with weapons for years, okay?” Karkat tossed the sickles a few centimeters off his palms, and caught them once more, “I haven’t used these before, but I always enjoyed the idea of having them as a weapon, and Kanaya knew that. So I used to practice swinging sticks when I was a kid, because I figured one day maybe I’d have to defend her or…some stupid bullshit like that. And I bought a toy pair of them, too.”

“…Well. That’s good…to know…”

“And now I have two pairs, funny enough.”

“Wait, two?”

Karkat nodded, and took out the other pair—the red pair, those shaped like crab pinchers, that had been born of fire when Terezi had attacked.

“Oh. That pair. I didn’t know you kept them.”

Karkat sighed, “Yeah, well, I did. And now do you get why my punch fucking hurt? You know, the one I gave you when we first met?”

The human smirked, “How could I forget? Love at first sight—or hit, in this case.”

“Asshole.” The troll huffed, “So do you get it now? I’m not a fucking useless pansy.”

“Never said you were, or thought you were, baby doll. But. And I mean BUT-“ Dave raised his voice, and poked the other in the forehead, causing Karkat to snarl, “Listen to me while we’re fucking here! You could’ve been hurt! When I tell you not to bother the assholes here, you don’t fucking bother the assholes.”

“…Fine. Alright? But you’re the one who brought me to this den of iniquity in the first place. Did you expect me not to be at least a little bit curious?”

“…Iniq-what?”

Karkat closed his eyes in frustration, “Pick up a book, Strider. Or get some culture, for Christ’s sake.”

“But Karkles, I’d rather read your eyes, to see what they’re really saying, what your soul is really saying-“

“Please just shut up. That string of words isn’t even worthy of being called a sentence and I’m not even sure how to react to it.”

“Fine. Moving on!” Dave quipped, grabbing the candy-red blood’s arm, pulling him along, while Gamzee lazily trailed at his side, “The second rule. Are you ready for it?”

“Only if you’re ready for me to shove a sickle up your ass if you don’t let go of my arm.” And because Karkat had not had time to put the weapons away, Dave took the threat seriously, and let go.

“Fine. Rule two. Don’t buy anything from street vendors. Want to know why?”

“Not really, but I’ll humor you.” Karkat rolled his eyes, “So, Master of Cool named Dave Strider, why shouldn’t the lowly piece of shit that is me not buy stuff?”

“They’re all trying to rip you off, babe. Broken shit, ugly shit, shit with fleas in it. Stolen shit, too. Want a wallet? Here you go, it’s just got a dead guy’s ID on it, oops, you’re going to jail for murder, bye, bye birdie, write, don’t become a bunk-buddy, see you in thirty years.”

“Isn’t that a bit of a big jump in the logic department, Dave?”

“Nope,” The human shook his head, “Trust me. As someone who is related to a thief-“

“WHAT? THIEF?”

“…Oops.”

“IS YOUR COUSIN A THIEF?” Karkat screeched, hands bawling into fists while Dave cringed.

“Not so loud! Shit, calm down, Vantas. Don’t want the police to hear you-“

“I swear to God, why do I even BOTHER!? I KNEW there was something fishy going on here! I knew that there was a secret you were keeping from me about this ‘Roxy’, if that IS her real name!”

“Well, her full name is Roxanne-“

“AHA!”

“…Roxy’s a nickname, dumbass.”

“…I-I knew that!” Karkat stuttered back, and crossed his arms, “Fine, whatever! Let’s…Let’s just go meet this con-artist-thief-drunk of a cousin you have. I’m just not even going to ask anymore. Yep. Just going to keep on moving, and I’ll meet this girl, and THEN see if she’s a good enough person to associate with.”

“Look, man, she’s a good person. Really! She’s got a good heart, and she doesn’t just steal shit for herself. She helps out people around here. Like her neighbors and stuff. And if anything, she’d help us out, and maybe we could encourage her to help others.”

Karkat sighed, strolling on ahead, but Dave only a few feet behind him, “Whatever. Let’s just keep going.”

Dave assented to the other’s demand, and strolled forth, making sure both of the other males kept close to his side after what had just happened; though, Gamzee was a bit more difficult to wrestle close, what with being distracted by the blinking lights. Regardless, the human did his best to make sure the other two stayed in line—as he listed off more rules for them to follow while in Neon.

‘Don’t eat anything that he didn’t smell and-or taste first’ was the third rule, while rule five, in Karkat’s opinion, was downright ludicrous: ‘always turn on the light if you go into a bathroom—you ain’t ever gonna be sure there’s not some creep in there with you, and I don’t want you getting Bad Touched, Kitten’.

They went on and on—until the point the Vantas boy was thinking he could no longer be classified as paranoid, but the Strider could have been; soon his ears turned out the rules (up to fifteen, and still going), and kept his gaze out on the city. They were down a darker street now, the lamps above their head having been shot up and out by weapons or sheer age. Men were crouched in boxes hiding from the chilled oncoming-night air, while others used those same boxes to trick feeble-minded simpletons out of hard-earned boondollars. Others sat on street corners playing music from strange-looking instruments, the notes enticing, while their bowls of change were even more enticing to thieving children; even more people were trying to get passersby’s attention, in order to sell them things—and it was one of these men that drew Karkat away from Dave’s side silently, just as he was talking on, with,

“Now, guys, that stuff is just the basic shit. You really just gotta use common sense, but since I’m with a social pariah that was locked up in a church for five sweeps, and a somewhat incompetent demon with a drug problem and probably fucking ADD, I figured I best explain--….Karkat? Karkles?” He turned his head this way and that, when he finally noticed his companion was missing—but eventually found him, just as he was handing over five boondollars to a street merchant, and taking a metallic, dark-yellow necklace into his hands.

“…Oh, you gotta be shitting me. Karkat, I just said you don’t buy shit from these guys!” Dave rubbed his temples in a showing of false (maybe?) frustration, but the troll merely frowned.

“It’s my own money, dipshit. I think I can do whatever the hell I want with it.”

“Yeah, well, I bet my own money that what you just bought is broken shit.” The blond sniffed with a pompous air, and then smirked, “Well? Is it?”

The red-blooded boy clicked open the necklace—it turned out to be a small pocket-watch on a chain, that could be worn around the neck, and the deep scowl on his face was all the answer Dave needed.

“See? I told you. Now you just went and bought yourself a piece of cheap shit for nothing.”

Karkat glanced over his shoulder, only to see that the street vendor, to no one’s surprise, had up and left as soon as he could; and though the troll gave a little snarl, he didn’t scream and shout whereas one would expect. Sure, he was downright furious, and he muttered a stream of curses under his breath, and for a moment, Dave thought he would break the watch even more the way he tightened his grip on the piece of jewelry…but he eventually relaxed, looking more just disappointed, but used to such disappointment in his life.

“You might as well just throw it away, man. I dunno what you’re going to do with that-“

“I didn’t buy it for me…” Karkat interrupted with, crossing his arms, the watch dangling from his fingers.

“…I’m pretty sure Gamzee can’t tell time-“

“I bought it for YOU, you asshole!”

“…What?”

A huff from the shorter creature, “I bought it for you. You know…a watch. Time. Knight of. That shit.”

“…You…You bought me a gift. Me.” Dave even pointed at himself for emphasis, “David Marion Strider?”

“Your middle name is Marion? The fuck?”

“That doesn’t leave this conversation, you hear? Pops Strider had a fucking sense of humor. And when I’m eighteen I’m legally changing it to Marshall, so just drop it.”

“Okay, Marion.” Karkat rolled his eyes, “And yes, I bought you a gift. Such a shocker, I know. But now it’s just a useless piece of ‘cheap shit’, as you clearly stated.”

“Hey now, I don’t think those were my exact words, babe.” Dave rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, trying to ignore the growing flush on his face.

“I think those were your exact words, toots.”

“Babe, come on, I mean, I’m sure it’s not that bad…I mean, it’d be rude of me to not accept your gift, and-“

“Stop calling me ‘babe’. It’s a ludicrous human sentiment that’s more insulting than gratifying. And five seconds ago, you wanted me to throw it away.” Karkat tilted his head in confusion, his face scrunched up to match, “Now you’re changing your mind like a dumb wriggler. I don’t get it, what’s your deal now?”

“Nothing!” The Knight gave him a smile, “But c’mon, it’d be not-chivalrous of me to deny such a gift, right? Sure, it’s broken, but, uh, thought counts, rights?”

Karkat sighed, “Fine. I’m done arguing with you. Take the piece of crap.” And he tossed the jewelry at the human, who caught it with one hand; quickly, he glanced at the outside: there was a rose carved into the metal, detailed exquisitely. There were small spirals and swirls around the sides and edges, and microscopic flowers in the background behind the large rose, detailed with the tiniest of pens and metal-working devices. It was actually a quite nice piece, just by telling from the outside, even more so because the metal was not rusty, or scratched or covered in dirt. No wonder Karkat had purchased it, thinking it was worth something.

“Uh…Thanks.” Dave quickly pocketed the necklace, making a mental note to look at the inside of it later, when he was alone, to see if he could fix it on his own, and to judge how bad the damage was, “But why’d you get it for me?”

The Vantas boy shrugged, “It…just made me think of you.”

“…Oh.”

“I don’t know why. All he did was show me some really nice clocks, and I figured you’d like one, and then I guessed the one I liked best was of the same fucking quality, but guess who was wrong, again! This asshole.” He snorted, shaking his head, “I should be used to that, but I never seem to learn.”

“Aw, hey, come on, don’t be so hard on yourself,” Dave gave the other a little smile, hoping the next words out of his mouth would be kind, compassionate, maybe even a little grateful or crush-worthy…Instead, he spouted out, “Maybe I could use it for scrap metal?”

“…” Karkat just blinked at the other, sighed, and turned on his heel, heading deeper into the city, Gamzee scurrying after him like a happy puppy; and while he went on about how all the colors were from the Messiahs, and how he smelled delicious food, Dave merely sighed at his own stupidity, smacking his forehead while muttering,

“Nice, Strider. Way to go. Champion of cool, right fucking there….”

But he recovered quickly enough to point Karkat in the next, correct direction—into the heart of Neon.

And just like a beating heart, the essence was stronger in the center; the lights were brighter and of more variety—red lights for ‘comfort homes’, blue lights for drinks (or bathroom centers), yellow and pink for warehouses that served the nightly crowds as dance parties (some illegal—okay, most were illegal), and more. There were raucous cheers in the center of the city, because it was the most vibrant, the most alive—both with crime, and with those who could make enough of a living to find satisfaction and joy in the grime.

It was the center where everyone came and went; Dave found himself reaching for Karkat’s hand, fearful he would get lost in the thumping and pumping crowds. Through the streets, many mingled, but down other alleys, they danced to music from their radios—seemingly oblivious to the world-wide chaos swarmed all around the city—and fornicated against the trash cans; while others gambled away their life savings or children, smoking drugs many of them could not afford on a daily basis.

It was a city alive in the wilds—a church for the degenerates in the wild, that lived, breathed, and ate chaos; where no one knew each other’s name, and it was for the best. One could smell the piss, the blood, the booze—and if you were weak enough, the scents were all addicting and intoxicating.

“Just stay close, okay?” The blond whispered to the troll beside him, while Gamzee merrily skipped behind them; the latter was either extremely in his element and fit in perfectly (and thus wasn’t bothered by the patrons of Neon), or the population was too afraid of the make-up wearing purple blood to even try anything.

“I’m perfectly capable of staying close to you, Strider, unfortunately for—HEY!” Karkat shrieked at the end of his sentence, because to his shock and awe, he was literally—literally—grabbed out of Dave’s hold by two female trolls they had begun to walk past. It was quite clear what their profession was—what with their breasts adorned in flattering red and gold brassieres with lace, and black and ruby skirts with lace and feathers; their midnight colored hair rolled up into small buns on the top of their heads. One a burgundy-blood, the other a gold-blood, they were clearly low-blooded girls without honest boondollar, and both began to giggle as they ran their hands over Karkat.

“Ooh, Villie, would you look at this one? Positively scrumptious!” The red-blooded girl squeezed the Vantas’ arm, giggling even more, “C’mon, honey, you look like you could use a nice massage. What you say?”

“I bet he’ll take us both, what’cha say, Millie?” The yellow-blooded girl leaned in and gazed into the other’s eyes, who was now sweating and wriggling in shame and confusion, “Millie! He’s a mutant blood! Look at his eyes!”

The first prostitute, apparently Millie, pushed her friend out of the way to get way too close to Karkat—he could smell her disgusting perfume that stunk of old, dirty beaches and sweaty men, and he could see his reflection in the faux jewels that hung around her neck and over her mammary glands.

“Oh my god, you’re right! I see bright red specks in there! Ooh, you know what they say about mutant bloods—‘special blood is into special sex’! C’mon sweetie, we’ll make you feel good!” Villie folded her hands up in a prayer, lower lip wiggling, “You’ll be in good hands, we promise. We’re both clean!”

“….Sex? SPECIAL SEX? CLEAN!?” Karkat, face a bright cherry color of shame, gasped and floundered trying to get away from the women, but Millie’s hold on his arm was tight. It took Dave—who had snickered all up until the words ‘special sex’ came into play—marching over to them, pushing past Villie, and grabbing Karkat away from the other.

“Sorry, ladies, he’s with me. I know, I know, it’s disappointing. A shame, really. We all should be blessed with having a mutant blood to warm our beds with, but only I get that pleasure. Again, sorry to disappoint, but we really have to be going-“

“I warm your WHAT?!”

“Bed, baby doll, you heard me.” Dave gritted his teeth, doing his best to pull the shell-shocked male along, while the two girls whined, “Don’t you remember last night?”

“NO!”

“We want to know!” Millie giddily shouted out, “We want to know what happened last night!”

“Yeah! And it can happen this night, too?” Villie chimed in, and Dave turned around to wag a finger at them,

“Ladies, ladies please! A good boyfriend never shares how he makes his partner scream-“

“You made me do WHAT?! And I’m your WHAT NOW?!”

“Scream, shout, say my name over and over again. And ladies, he’s mine. And I don’t share.” If Dave’s grip on Karkat got a bit more possessive, neither mentioned it—which was a good thing, because even though his words were a joke, Dave’s actions were no such thing.

“Aww, come on! Please! We’ll let you watch! Or join in!”

“Or you can do things and we’ll just watch! Oh please, little Mister!”

They begged and whined, but Dave just waved a hand over his shoulder; and though they cooed at Gamzee as he passed them, they quickly stopped when they saw his goofy face and makeup, and thus went back to their corner empty handed and dejected at the loss of men.

“What the hell was that?” Karkat snarled, while the human just smiled,

“Seems you’re a ladies man after all, Vantas. All the whores want to get in your pants. And the way your eyes bugged out when they grabbed you? Classic grade-A comedy. John Egbert would applaud and throw popcorn everywhere.”

“I’m not going to ask who the fuck John Egbert is, and I wasn’t talking about the…sinful ladies,” Dave snorted at the genteel term for the girls, but let the other continue on, “Last time I checked, I don’t warm your bed. And maybe I’m sick of those idiotic comments, Strider.”

“Too bad, ‘cause I’m not. You always get so red, it’s the highlight of my day. And c’mon, Vantas. They’re ironic jokes. You know, for irony?”

“What’s so ironic about you saying I scream your name during sex?” Karkat paused, “…Is it because you’d never have sex with me?”

“Uh-“ Shit, was this heading in a bad direction?

“Are you subtly saying, with your inane comments about fornication, that I’m actually quite ugly and that you wouldn’t have sex with me even though I was the last sentient being on this deranged, floating rock?”

“Uh-“ Yep, bad direction, “I-Is that what it means to have…ironic sex jokes?” Dave’s smile twitched, “’Cause, uh, well-“

“I would assume that would be the ironic part of saying you have sex with me on a nightly basis,” Karkat spat acidly, yanking his arm out of Dave’s grasp, “Or it could be that you think I’m going to die by the end of this and thus won’t get to have sex with me, even if I would be mentally ill enough to consent to such a thing. But considering we’ve already discussed how abhorrently ugly I am when Terezi paid us a lovely visit, I’m gonna assume it’s the first one.”

Great, the conversation was able to take an even worse direction…

“H-Hey now, neither of those were the ironic meaning to what I said back there!”

“Okay, then what was the ‘ironic meaning’?” Karkat crossed his arms, staring down the other, who stupidly stood there with a finger pointed up in the air, as if the human was claiming victory over…something.

“Um-“ Would it be ironic if I actually said I wanted to fuck you really badly? Okay, maybe not even fuck, just get naked and do things? Like, really, really naughty things? Like lick your horns? Is that considered naughty in troll culture? Can you just be up for being naked and my viewing pleasure of said non-ironic nakedness? Please?

“That’s what I thought.” Spinning on his heels, the Vantas boy turned and began marching away, huffing and fuming, and Dave whined, hitting himself in the forehead in an un-ironicfashion, cursing his stupid mouth and stupid brain and even stupider love of irony. And even more so, his stupid self for having the inability to tell Karkat that he wasn’t ugly—because he wouldn’t just tell the other that he wasn’t ugly; he would probably shout out something much more embarrassing than that at the same time, and, well, his cool-self could just not allow that to happen, and subconsciously had halted his words—making him look like an idiot and a selfish prick. Again.

“God fucking damnit, I just can’t win today.” The Knight whispered vehemently under his breath; he glanced over not a second later to see Gamzee—of all creatures—standing on his right and staring at him with wide eyes, and Dave found himself frustrated and snarky, grounding out,

“What the hell are you looking at?!”

“…Nothin’, pasty motherfucker.” Gamzee gave him a grin that could only be described as ‘shit-eating’ and Dave knew right then and there that the demon didn’t like him, didn’t trust him, and got sick pleasure out of seeing him struggle with interaction regarding Karkat, while the demon himself could easily skate into the other’s life with stories of pain, suffering, and bloodshed.

And those facts were even clearer when Gamzee hurried forward and threw an arm around Karkat’s shoulder—though the other stiffened and looked annoyed, he didn’t throw the Makara boy off.

Dave tried—really, he did—to ignore the flares of jealousy in his heart. But it just wasn’t fair. Here he was, trying his damn best to be a Knight to the other—because he should be, right? Something inside told him to do just that—and this demon…this…this creature that had tried to kill them both…won him over so easily. It wasn’t fair! He wanted to put his arm around Karkat like that and not get shoved off like he was an abomination or a nuisance. He wanted to be soothed (okay, he hadn’t really needed soothing along this journey so far) and petted and talked to softly, like an angel, and he wanted-

Shit.

Maybe these feelings were getting out of hand.

Maybe it wasn’t just about Karkat’s fine ass or his adorable face anymore.

Shit.

“Hey, assholes!” Dave called out, realizing he needed to calm his beating heart with a distraction, “Do you even know where you’re going?”

The trolls halted their steps, and gazed over their shoulders back at Dave, who kept his eyes trained on Karkat—because who needed Gamzee, right?

“…Oh.” The Vantas huffed, and turned his orbs downward in embarrassment.

“S’what I thought.” Dave hurried his steps over to them, and subtly—or not—grabbed Karkat’s hand, tugging him out of Gamzee’s hold and pulling him along, “C’mon, Kitten, I know where we need to go. We got to get some information.”

And sure, maybe it had been petulant, what with pulling the New Messiah out of the demon’s shoulder hug, but Dave was only a thirteen year old boy who didn’t understand what his heart and body were saying and feeling.

So he could afford to be petulant with his feelings, just for a little while.

---

Said place they were headed to was a bar; though there were dozens spread throughout Neon, Dave chose the least…conspicuous. The most trustworthy, as he put it—even though just as the trio pulled up to its door, a burly human had been thrown through the window, glass shattering everyone, and Karkat had yelped in terror at the sight, clinging to Dave’s shoulder even more so.

“I’ll be just a sec.”

“You’re going in there!? Are you fucking crazy?!” The candy-red blooded male barked, hitting Dave from behind, “Some guy just got thrown out of the building!”

“Yeah, man, I saw. I can handle it, though. I just gotta ask if they know where my cousin is.”

“You mean you don’t know!? I thought you were leading us to her!”

Dave gave a smile and shrugged, “Nah, I was just going with the flow until we got to a place where I could ask someone. Pretty good at being cool about it, wasn’t I?”

“…I want. To punch you. With a rusty sickle. Up the ass. Hard.”

“Babe, I told you I ain’t that much of a masochist.”

Karkat dug his claws into the fabric of Dave’s red garments, pulling him closer, and downward so they were at eye –level; Dave yelped in surprise and the troll just continued on, with, “Listen to me, Strider. I don’t like it here. It’s dark. Dirty. Full of decrepit things I was taught to keep away from. And two harlots nearly had their way with me in the street. I’m not having fun.”

“Could have fooled me—Agh, okay, hey, watch the fabric.” Dave nervously slithered the words out of his mouth as Karkat tightened his fingers even more so, and grinned something akin to Terezi’s shark-esque grin that could frighten even small children—and big children, too. Big children included Dave at this point, by the way.

“So you get your ass in there, and ask about this Roxanne right now. And then, we’re going to find her, we’re going to get her help, and then we’re getting the hell out of this place. You hear me?”

“…God, I love it when you order me around. Highlight of my day. But I’m still waiting on you to order me to drop my pa-“

Karkat didn’t let the other finish his sentence, and instead heaved, with all his might, the Strider boy against the door of the bar, where Dave crumped against the wood with a groan, mostly out of shock, and not too much out of pain—though it did sting.

“Shit, you were not that strong days ago, man…The hell…?”

“Just GO!”

“Fine, fine. Stay with the guard dog.” Dave brushed himself off, and headed inside, leaving Karkat to shout back at him,

“Gamzee isn’t the damn guard dog, you rude, insufferable piece of crap!”

Dave didn’t reply, and instead stuck his tongue out at the other like a child as the door slid closed, and the two trolls remained outside, the shorter one crossing his arms while attempting to hide even more in his cloak and hood, while Gamzee merely sat on the ground, patient.

Nothing occurred for a few minutes, up until the point when Gamzee, tired of sitting on the ground, scurried closer to his companion, and meandered his lanky limbs up Karkat’s body, to eventually be in the position for a piggy-bank ride—an awkward one, considering the purple-blooded boy was at least half a foot taller than the other, if not more.

“The fuck?” Karkat wavered, his balance off, “Is this shit really necessary, you invalid demon?”

Gamzee just gave the other a smile, and a nod.

“I swear to all the dead Gods, I feel like I’m your mother now! Do demons even have mothers?! Or have I just been sorely blessed with that asinine title?”

“Man, I don’t know shit about mothers. Though the Big Gal upstairs says Eve is our mother—mother of demons and all the freaky-leaky things that go bump in the night.”

“Well, that’s reassuring. I can’t possibly be a worse ‘mother’ than fucking Eve.” The Vantas boy rolled his eyes, and made sure not to think about how ‘mother’ and ‘moirail’ started with the same letter, “How the hell did I get stuck with the demon whose brain is fried? Honestly, at least Terezi said sentences that made sense!”

“HONK!”

“My thoughts exactly, asshole.”

He could have gone on—ranted a bit more to the troll who ate green pies and had broken wings and probably didn’t even understand the severity of the situation they were all in; but Karkat never got the chance, because Dave returned to their side through the unorthodox method of being thrown out the same window the previous male specimen had been thrown through.

He quickly (and maybe a bit gracefully) soared through the jagged edges of the glass, having been thrown by some other patron in the bar, and landed with a plop onto the cobblestone walkway where the other gentleman had been, on his back, face towards the sky.

“Sup.” And he certainly didn’t miss a beat; neither did Karkat, as he came to stand over him, Gamzee still clinging to his back like a baby monkey.

“Not my patience, apparently. You alright, or did you break something again?”

“Hey now, I haven’t broken anything yet-“

“Except the universe’s ability to send to me people I can tolerate. You broke that a long time ago, hell, you broke that on day one, Strider.”

“I found out where my cousin is, if that makes up for it.” Dave gave a little shrug from his prone position on the ground, while Karkat massaged the bridge of his nose.

“Lovely. Are you going to get up?”

“Nope.”

“Great. Just great.”

“Hell yeah, it’s great, because I think you can—and should—carry me?” The human outstretched his arms, and didn’t even blink when Karkat gave him a look of incredulity.

“And why in the world would I do that?”

“You’re carrying Gamzee! The guy’s riding on your back like you’re a cat-bus and he’s the little Japanese girl going on a funky adventure with new friends.”

“…First off, I’m not even going to ask about the blabbering you just spat out of your mouth like a sewer drain. Second, the idiot just hopped up onto me like I was a tree, and I didn’t have the time—or energy—to shake him off.”

“Uh-huh. Bullshit is what I hear.” A whine, “C’moooon, Kitten, please? I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll snuggle into your big, manly troll arms and just sit there while you walk-“

“Bye, Dave.” Karkat merely stepped over the other and continued walking down the road, and the blond immediately sat up.

“Hey! I got thrown out of a bar window for you! I think I deserve a little thanks and appreciation and carrying, Vantas.”

“…Some little instinct in me tells me you asked and paid someone in the bar to throw you out that window, just so you’d get my attention and pity, even though I will never, ever have any of that for you. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“…”

“…Bye Dave.” Karkat turned again, subtly flipping the bird to the younger male as he moved; Dave, of course, got to his feet and hurried over to the retreating trolls.

“You know, one of these days you’ll appreciate the fact that I’d dive out windows for you.”

“And one day I’ll make sure I get my own chance to throw you out of a window that’s very high up—we’re talking as high as Skaia.”

“You gonna throw me out of Heaven? Gonna make me your Lucifer?”

The snarl that was the answer wasn’t strong enough to deter the lewd eyebrow motion from the human, of course.

They took a right off the main road a few minutes later, and left the central hub of Neon; they thus entered a more desolate block, where the beggars were out in throngs, and the neon lights were dimmer, buzzing more softly, as if they were running on their last legs—for good. Karkat kept his eyes glued to the ground out of shame and inability to assist, for he could have thrown all the boondollars in his pocket to these people, and it would have done nil. They were of various races—troll, human, and foreign black and white carapaces that had emigrated from foreign worlds where their species were in overpopulation and struggling. They had come here for a better chance, and a lesser chance is what they had been given.

None of the three spoke for some time, doing their best to avoid the curious glances that were directed at their strangeness, their unique clothing (okay, mostly Dave’s) and gold-hilted swords (again, Dave; why did the human have to look like such a rich bastard?) and possible monetary worth. There was jealousy in their eyes, pity and sorrow in others, and Karkat found himself sighing—and then frowning, when Gamzee decided to be ‘comforting’ and nuzzle his face into the shorter troll’s hair, while his lanky legs gripped tightly, but his body hanging off a bit in the air behind Karkat, to give the other a bit more balance.

Dave noticed the sweet gesture from the demon, and barely bit back the bile in his throat—not jealousy, just bile, only bile—and instead turned his words into sarcastic whips, with,

“Man, I don’t like how this guy here’s your new best friend, Kitten. He clearly is, with all that freakin’ snuggling. I’m getting the diabetus from the snuggles, and that ain’t cool.”

“Please, get diabetes. It’d be something that pleased me beyond compare. Because that’d mean you’d have to prick yourself to test your blood sugar level and maybe, just maybe, you’d prick a bad spot and bleed out all over the floor.”

“Ouch, babe. That was cruel. Gamzee, are you gonna let your new best friend talk to me like that?”

“Man, motherfucker, my best friend can talk to your pasty-ass however he wants.”

Dave didn’t miss Karkat’s triumphant smirk, and Gamzee could rot in hell for all he cared.

“See? He just said you were his best friend. I thought that was me! Jeeze, Vantas, what do I have to do get your attention, huh? Get naked and do the hula?”

Silence came forth, and for a moment, the Strider wondered if he had gone too far with the last question; but Karkat merely turned slowly, and gave him the blankest stare, and the most serious tone he had ever heard escape from his black lips—it was as if the troll was speaking on a life-and-death situation when he countered with,

“…Sure, Strider. You do that. You do that, and if you do it well, I’ll get naked for you, jump right onto your lap, and you can touch my bulge. How’s that?”

“Hell yes. I say hell yes. I don’t even know what a bulge is, but still, hell yes. You can teach me. Be my anatomy teacher—which is so much better than ‘motherfucking best friend’.”

Gamzee gave a little snarl that Karkat pointedly ignored, and he continued with,

“Great. Can I pick the time that we do this?”

“Absolutely. Do it. Hell, go with tonight, for all I care.”

“I think I’ll pick twelfth of never, because I’ve changed my mind. So HELL NO. Now shut your noise-hole.”

Dave faked pain and threw a hand to his heart, “You wound me, Vantas. You obviously have no faith in my dancing skills.”

“Of course I don’t, you nooksucker. You have the gait of a rabid meowbeast, and it’s just sad. Sad enough to where when I even think about it, I cry and die a bit more inside.”

“First off, you ain’t ever seen me dance, babe. Second, I bet you can’t dance, you adorable little hypocrite, you.”

“Strider, if you call me adorable one more fucking time-“

“Oh hey, we’re here!” Dave gave him a smirk, as they came to stand outside a four-story apartment complex, made of black and white bricks, with a square roof that was falling apart and was able to let precipitation in most nights—okay, all nights—that it either rained or snowed. There were only two bright, neon-filled lights on either side of the green doorway that the human turned the doorknob of, the rest of the building dark on the outside, seemingly full of death and quiet on the inside…

Though that assumption was greatly false.

Instantly, the boys were hit with bright lights, as the main room showed a desk for a landlord of the complex, with creaky stairs leading up to the rest of the building; and though the entranceway was completely silent, it was the room to the right that was loud—abhorrently loud.

Both Knights scurried into the next room, and the sight of what was taking place caused Dave to raise his eyebrows, and for Karkat’s jaw to drop to the metaphorical floor.

White carapaces, dressed in rags, were cheering in jubilation, dancing around the medium-sized community dining room; some were jumping on chairs and clanking drinking glasses with one another, dancing in the flashing neon lights that were littered about in the room. They were hugging each other, throwing each other into the air, screaming for joy; because in their poor, non-progressive lives, they were having the time of their lives tonight in this small room. The smell of alcohol invaded their senses, and Dave was sure the troll at his side would faint from the smell if it had not been for his shock at the sight of a girl dancing on the table.

A girl in a purple, frilly dress, with a pink cat face across the top, holding a sloshing cocktail glass that was, probably, filled with vodka. A girl with blonde hair that was just a shade more yellow than Dave’s own, and was more akin to Rose’s golden tresses. A girl in matching purple-pink heels and black tights, that was hooting and hollering, throwing candy to the carapaces, making sure the music from her small stereo on the table continued to play, thumping out beats and rhythms that were addicting to listen to.

“…Please tell me that’s not your cousin.”

Dave’s wistful and subtly pleading smile was answer enough—and enough of an answer for Karkat to slowly turn and leave the doorway.

“Wait! Where the hell are you going?”

“To throw myself off the roof of this building, because what the fuck.”

“Oh for Christ’s sake-“ And though Karkat had left and had gone towards the stairs, Dave again turned his attention towards the girl in the other room.

“Roxy. YO, ROXY!”

But she still didn’t’ hear him, the music drowning out the sound of the human’s words; with a frustrated huff (also semi-relieved—Karkat hadn’t gone through with his threat and instead sat down on the steps, burying his face with a cry into the metal surface), he fumbled for the main light-switch in the room, and rapidly shut it off.

The shrieks of surprise from the carapaces at being thrown in the dark—along with Roxy accidentally kicking the stereo off the table, and onto the floor, therein shutting it off probably permanently—were enough to make sure the attention was drawn to him as he flipped the lights back on.

“Roxy!”

Pink eyes widened, and the glass in Roxy’s hand fell out of her nimble fingers, and shattered on the tabletop on which she stood, while her mouth dropped open in astonishment.

“…Davey? Davey, is that you?!”

A sigh, “Yeah, cous. It’s me.” A pause, “And we need to have a serious talk.”

----

Roxy, in all her drunken stupor, had been wise enough to take them back up to her apartment on the third floor of the complex. Seated in a small kitchen, the entire home having only three rooms, Dave told her everything—every single detail of what was going on, what was happening, who Karkat was, who he now was. No details were spared; and again, though she was inebriated, the blonde woman ‘oohed’ and ‘ahhed’ at the right moments, her vibrant eyes glassy yet still excited, widening as Dave told her how they had been nearly killed by demons, how the angels were hunting them dead, and where they were headed.

p>But after that, it got awkwardly quiet; the cousins hadn’t seen each other in over a year (‘Really, Davey? Has it been over a year?’ ‘Yeah, Rox, remember? We saw each other at Rose’s Coronation as Seer’ ‘Oh, yeah. HIC!’) and though Roxy had heard their story, there had been no triumphant shout of heroics and victory, no cries of her wanting to join the on their quest. Instead, Roxy had gone quiet, and continued to sip he newly-made vodka martini, eyes not wanting to meet her cousin’s.

And Dave sipped on a glass of apple juice.

And Gamzee was chugging a bottle of grape soda on the floor like a baby boy.

And Karkat drank nothing, crouched up against the kitchen window, pointedly gazing out into the neon lights with a scowl—obviously displeased.

Okay, so this was probably going to be more difficult than the Strider boy thought.

“…So, Rox. How’ve you been? Guy at the bar said he hadn’t seen you around a lot, lately.”

She shrugged, her dainty hand coming to her lips to cover up (and fail at doing so) a drunken chirp, “Haven’t gone out to the bar much these days, Dovey. Davey. Been getting my juices from actual shops, bringing them back here. Keeps the rest of the neighbors in good spirits, too.”

“You always do a lot for them, don’t you?” He hoped the question would bring to light the fact that Roxy Lalonde was a good person—a thief, but a good person. She had been given a hold on Darkness, on the Void, by an angel in order to do good in the lives of others. She was the female Robin Hood of Neon—infamously famous. She had been stealing in the city for the past three years, after moving to the city on her own, and had been assisting others. She had seemed passionate about her abilities back then; with being able to melt into the shadows, throw shadows and darkness with the twitch of a hand, and turn out the lights, she was a ninja come to life. A powerful being in the form of a sixteen year old girl.

But now there was less light in her eyes, Dave noted. And it wasn’t just because she was drunk.

Roxy shrugged, lean shoulders underneath the purple dress then sagging afterwards, “I haven’t been able to do much—HIC—lately, Davey. Things have gotten worse around here, ya see. Not much left to steal from the rich; they’re just stealing from each other, and making it harder for the rest of us. And I can’t steal from the poor to give to the other poor. It isn’t fair!” She exclaimed like a little girl, throwing back the rest of her martini, “’Sides, with what’s going on, who gives a hoot?”

Okay, that really wasn’t a good question; and it wasn’t good that Karkat heard it either, because the troll immediately swiped his body around, and turned on the girl,

“’Who gives a hoot’? What do you mean? Don’t you care about what’s going on? The fucking world is burning up!”

The girl shrugged again, “Care? Not really, no. There’s not much I can do. We’re probably gonna get wiped off the map, o-or at least Neon, yeah? So why even booter—bother?”

Aghast at the answer he was given, the Vantas boy turned to the Strider male, gave him a growl of annoyance, clicking his teeth—a silent command of FIX THIS NOW—and stormed out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind him, and a second door—probably to Roxy’s bedroom—was slammed not a moment later.

“Sheesh! What’s his problem?!”

“…He’s just going through a lot, Roxy.”

“Obviously! Ooh, I should whip him up a drink later! No, no, right now! Now! Something sweet, he seems like the fruity type-“

“Roxy.”

“Strawberries, I bet he likes strawberries,” She hopped up from her chair, and began prancing around the cabinets, all which were filled with a rainbow of liquors, ranging from bright reds, to dark indigos, even to bright pinks, “And maybe a bit of melon. Just a bit, though. OH! CHERRY! I bet he’d love cherries-“

“Rox-“

“But also chocolate. Strapp-strawberries, cherries—super, super rich cherries! And chocococolate-“

“ROXY!”

Dave, patience finally gone, lost his cool, and pounded a fist on her wooden table, the echo and motion loud enough to startle the girl into dropping an empty glass to the floor, where it shattered at his feet.

It seemed like it was going to be the kind of night where a lot of glass would shatter.

“….Davey? Davey, what’s wrong? Oh, Davey, you made me drop the glass!” She huffed, swaying on her feet as she meandered towards her broom closet, but Dave hopped over the shattered glass, and grabbed her wrist to halt her.

“I could ask you the same question, Roxy. Granted, I knew you drank a lot, but…damn, have you been drinking more?”

“…If I have, I don’t think that’s really your business, Davey dear. There’s no problem with having fun.”

“Fun? You want to have fun? And why the hell are you going on about how you don’t care what’s going on?”

Roxy jerked her hand out of Dave’s hold, “Why should I care, Davey? There’s nothing I can do about it, okay? It’s not like I can go up to God and say ‘Hey, Missy, you should stop this now!’.” She wagged a finger in mock anger, and then sighed, “I’m just—HIC!—me, okay? Don’t you get that?”

“But…You’ve been helping this city for years, cous. Ain’t that something?”

“Yeah. Something small. Me stealing a loaf of bread from the baker in the plaza center who keeps ripping off his customers, and then giving it to orphans, is something very, very, very, very small. It’s not like what you were tawking—talking—about earlier. And I’ve k-known about the stuff going on since it started. I have a teeeeveeee remember?”

“…So what are you going to do, then? While all this shit is going on?” Dave questioned as he grabbed the broom himself, and began sweeping up the remains of the old goblet.

“Dunno. Party some more. Get some more drinks for me and the neighbors. That’s what you walked on, by the way. We were just having fun to pass the time…s’all that’s left for us, now.”

“…I see…”

“I mean, really, Davey, think about it. If the world’s gonna end, and there ain’t anything I can do about it, I might as well be selfish, right?”

The thirteen year old paused his sweeping ministrations at that question, and slowly turned his head towards his cousin, who was now leaning against the table with a half-smile on her face, and another shrug on her shoulders—she definitely got that shrug from the Strider side of the family at this rate, but Dave could not think long on that, because he felt anger boiling in his stomach.

“…Selfish…You want to be….selfish?”

“Yeah. There’s not much else for me to do, right? And besides, I’ve given myself to others many, many, many, times! I can—HIC—take some time for me—a lot of time for me?”

“You want to be SELFISH? NOW?” His voice was rising, and Dave’s hands dropped the broom; maybe Karkat had sensed this from Roxy before, and that was another reason why he had stormed out of the kitchen. It was entirely possible, now that Dave saw it too. Saw what had happened to his cousin.

She had become jaded.

She had become disillusioned.

And somehow, she had come to not believe in herself.

And in all honesty, Dave did not have the time for any of that bullshit…now did he?

“D-Davey-“

His voice was a full yell at this point, and more than likely, the New Messiah could hear it in the bedroom down the hall; Gamzee certainly heard it, as he had chosen to scoot away from the brewing argument that was to come, in order to hide in the corner of the cabinets.

“SELFISH? The FUCK are you thinking, ROXY? You think you can just be selfish RIGHT NOW? When we can’t AFFORD THAT?!”

“Davey, you’re shouting—a-and floating-“

His anger was elevating, and eventually became n a scream—and now said anger was elevating his feet, as he stood in front of his cousin, a few inches off the air, so he could look her in the eye.

“What about ME, HUH? I think I’d like to be a little fucking selfish, but oh, wait, I FUCKING CAN’T. And maybe I did in the past, okay? Maybe a part of me didn’t want to even get involved with this, but Rose-“ Roxy snorted at the mention of her sister, and looked away, but Dave continued on, “ROSE convinced me otherwise. And I don’t regret it for a minute. So you don’t see ME BEING SELFISH, NOW DO YOU?”

“You don’t understand-“

“Okay, if not about me, THEN WHAT ABOUT HIM?!” Dave angrily pointed a finger at the kitchen door, “What about KARKAT, HUH? HE MIGHT DIE BECAUSE OF THIS. I MIGHT TOO! AND YOU WANT TO BE SELFISH INSTEAD!? We came here to ask for your help, Roxy! We NEED YOU! PEOPLE need you!”

“No…No you don’t-“

“Bullshit we don’t. Don’t you get it?! We came here to talk to you, ask you, and I still believed that you were the same cousin I saw a year ago, who was all hyper and excited about what she was doing! And now you’re NOTHING like that! And you KNOW what’s going on, you’re seeing it every fucking day and you want to be SELFISH? WHY!? WHY ARE YOU SAYING THIS? WHY DON’T YOU GET IT?”

There were tears in her eyes, and Roxy was shaking her head, “Davey, please, just-“

“NO, I won’t just. I won’t. I’m literally fucking ashamed of you right now. This isn’t like you, and I ain’t about to coddle you and ask what the hell is going on! I don’t have time for that, Karkat doesn’t have time for that. So-“

“IT’S BECAUSE I CAN’T DO ANYTHING, OKAY?!” Roxy’s mind gave out, and she shrieked at her cousin, “I’M NOT WORTH ANYTHING TO THE CAUSE, OKAY!?” Her fingers, with their purple and pink rings and magenta nail polish, covered her eyes, where tears were starting to streak down; her knees gave out, and Roxy fell to the wooden floor with a sob, choking out, “I’m not like you and Rose or Jane or John or Jade, o-okay? HIC! I JUST CAN’T DO ANYTHING.”

“…” Silently, Dave lowered his feet, and stepped closer to his fallen cousin, with a frown on his face; her sorrow tempered his anger, but his sternness was still present in his next questions.

“Roxy…What are you saying?”

A sniffle, and she threw her hands into her lap, sparkly eye shadow and dark mascara smeared, “I-I’m worthless, Davey…I can’t work with Time like you…I can’t control Space like Jadey, or the wind like Johnny...Or Jane. My Janey! She can save lives! Lots and lots and lots of lives! She can bring people back to life, she’s a heroine, she-“

“Yeah, what about Jane? Don’t you want to do anything for her?”

Roxy shook her head, “Janey’s better off without me…She’s safe at the Temple of Life, a-anyway. I’d only get in her way…”

“…Even though you’ve been pining after her for how long?”

Roxy snorted, “Just because I love Janey doesn’t mean I can do anything for her, Davey dear…” More tears fell, staining the satin of her clothes, “I’m just a stupid little girl playing in the dark…W-What can I do to help people?”

Oh…

Oh, it made sense now…

Or at least…It was starting to…

“…Rox, how can you say that? Look at all the good shit you’ve been doing for this town. Lots of people would’ve starved because of you.”

“A-And that’s great, but that’s what? A city? Half of a city? H-How can I help save the world…? That’s for you and Karkitty to do, not me.”

“Just because you started out small don’t mean that you can’t do big shit, cous.” Dave knelt down, so he was at eye level of the sixteen year old.

“But I’ve never done big shit before…I’m not worthy of that, I never have been…” A self-depreciating laugh came forth, “Really. Just look at my sister. Just look at my entire famlee—family—Davey…”

“What do you mean?”

Shakily, Roxy stood, and gently pushed her cousin forward; her stumbling feet nearly careened her into a wall, then a table, until she finally reached her destination—a small table near the front door with family photographs—and instantly, it seemed she sobered up, the topic of family dampening her happiness in a way that Dave had not seen before; or had this just happened in the span of the year they had not seen each other?

“…Rose is the Seer of Light. Light. She was the golden child in Mom’s eyes,” She grazed her fingers over the worn photos, memories locked away in precious glass vaults, “Rose could—would—did—see things none of us ever would. She had been blessed by God, Davey. You know there’s no Angel of Light, right? Never been one in any of the religions. And sure, the Light religion’s pretty old, but no angel has ever existed in the stories of Heaven. So her powers came from God. And she could use those for things that none of us could comprehend. Mother always said she would go on to do unbelievable things…and she has. Taken to the Temple at age eight, Seer by age twelve…And there I was, fifteen, and a Child of Darkness, with only stupid games to show for it. No Temple to take me under their wing, because who the hell worships the Void? Heh.”

She paused, picking up a worn photograph; her little sister was in her Mother’s lap, said Mother’s large, blonde hair enveloping her face, her suit primp and proper. Rose was just a babe in frilly clothes, a smile on her face, while a child Roxy stood at her mother’s side, a t-shirt with a cat on her young body, but only half a smile on her face.

“Don’t get me wrong—I love Rosey. She’s a…fifth? Sixth? Of my world, always gonna be. No, she is my whole world—my whole family world. But Mother never appreciated my knack for the Void like she appreciated Rose’s mind and Sight. No one ever did, really.”

“…Bro always thought that shit was neat.”

That got a chuckle out of his cousin, “Bro always said I was more Strider than Lalonde, didn’t he? Mother never liked my hide-and-seek games of the shadows—she always complained they just gave her heart attacks…” Roxy trailed off, “And they used to say—they, being Mother’s family—that I would end up just like her…A lush with a fascination for wizards and magic, and would you look at me?” She barked out a laugh, “A lush with a fascination for wizards and magic, and a girl who likes to play in the dark…Always compared to her Sister of Light.”

“…You know Rose never compared the two of you.”

“Rose was too kind to compare.”

A heartbeat of a pause, “She’s the one who sent me here, Roxy.”

Silence, as the elder human turned her head, “What? She did?”

“She said that I should contact you. Come and find you. She said you’d be able to help.”

“…Rosey…Rosey said that?” Roxy fully turned her body towards Dave, eyes twinkling with more tears.

“She has faith in you—I know your little sister believes in you.”

The girl bit her lip, eyes tightening shut, “I…Davey, I wish I could have done more for her…But…But when Mom died and she was at the Temple-“

“I know. You had to go on your own, find yourself. Rox, no one blames you for that.”

She shook her head, “I should’ve found a way to do something…Anything…”

“Don’t blame yourself. We both know you had to get out of that house after Mom was gone. Though I wouldn’t have chosen Neon as my destination of escape, heh.”

Roxy nodded, a wry smile on her face, “How you stayed in that house where Bro died…You and Dirk are a lot braver than I’ll ever be…Both of you—Heck, a-all three of you Strider boys…You guys are doing great things…”

“It’s mostly him, Rox. Dirk, I mean.”

She crossed her arms, “Says the boy who is escorting the freaking New Messiah.”

“Yep, it’s such a glamorous job. I get three square meals a day, a warm bed, a harem of cute boys, and all the wine I could drink. I’m Emperor Dave Strider-“

“Dave Marion Strider!”

“…No.”

Roxy laughed, a bubbling of chuckles that escaped her covered mouth, “Oh, Davey, I missed your sense of humor…You and Dirk always kept me going when it was rough. Remember?”

“Yeah, I remember…” He trailed off, sighing, “Roxy…Listen to me. I know you think you…that you can’t do great things. Not of this level. But that shit ain’t right to think, cous. For starters, if Rose knows you can do something—Seer powers or not—you need to go along with that.”

“…I suppose if Rosey believes in me, that is something, isn’t it?”

“Hell yeah it is. If Dirk knew about what I was doing and believed in me, that’d be a boost I could sure as hell use.”

She quipped an eyebrow, “And what does that mean, hmmmm? Is someone else having self-esteem issues?”

Dave carefully dodged the question, and went with,

“Second off, you gotta think of this in a better light, no pun intended on behalf of Little Lalonde. Why can’t this be the time to prove your worth? Show the haters that the Void is worth shit. That you can do amazing things by blending and bendin’ shadows, cous. And who knows? Maybe with practice you can do bigger things later on. You know, maybe even create stuff out of the Void.”

“…I really never thought of it like that…I just assumed what I could do would be worth nothing to anyone during all of this…Immediately when I saw the meteors hit the Capital on TV, I wanted to rush and help, but…but…” She shook her head, “I just felt so useless. It was like all of what Mother said all those years ago came back to me. All those words that downplayed what I did…Her saying my powers would never amount to much…It didn’t help that it was harder to help people here in Neon, too. And then I started worrying about Rosey and Janey, and…and…” She gestured to the cabinets stockpiled with liquors.

“Well, see, that’s where you have the problem. You’ve been comparing yourself to what Mom always said—which, hell, I don’t always believe she meant all of it. She drank a lot, you know. And raising two blessed-by-Heaven kids on her own? Yikes. I know Bro said a lot of shit, too, but he never meant it.”

Roxy shook her head, “Mom meant it. I know she did. She had to have meant it, and until her ghost comes to me and says otherwise, I’ll always believe that.” She huffed, and crossed her arms, “…But I guess a part of me…would like to prove her wrong.”

“Yeah?” The young teen gave her a smile, and Roxy’s face slowly broke out into one as well.

“I guess I’d like to prove that being blessed by the Angel of Void at birth is something to be proud of…You know…Make my ‘Rogue’ nickname worth something. The Rogue of Void…I like that, don’t you, Davey?”

“I sure as hell do, cous.”

Roxy stared down at her hands, “Maybee...Maybe…it’s time I did something to prove I’m worthwhile…That I can do something…” She hardened her gaze, “If you’re willing to nearly die for this…I need to prove that I can, too.”

“…Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Silence, then a small nod, “Yes. I’ll do it. I’ll help you guys! But on my terms, little Mister!” She wagged her finger, “I’m going to help Janey, first off. I’ve been a terrible possible-almost-maybe-girlfriend to her.“

“Does she even know that you want to date her yet?”

“Hush that’s not the point!” Roxy smiled, “So I’m going to help you guys, but I need to go to her first, got it? And you know I can easily teleport places through Void Jumping, so I can get to you and Karkitty whenever I need to!”

“Sounds fine to me.” Dave clapped his hands, “Great, that’s solved, so-“

“Nope, not so fast, little Davey!” Roxy grabbed his sleeve, “We need to talk about you now!”

“…What about me?”

Roxy, for all her smiling and giddy and somewhat-drunk hiccups, sobered her gaze, and frowned at her cousin,

“We need to talk about your self-esteem, Davey. What did that comment back there mean? What’s going on?”

Okay, maybe Dave had…left out some parts of his story.

You know, the parts where they encountered Terezi (and he nearly got Karkat killed), and Skaia’s biggest dangers (and him nearly getting Karkat killed while escaping said city), and his potential weaknesses nearly being exploited by Aradia, and he almost being killed by Equius—and not protecting Karkat in the process.

So maybe he had hid some things—but not a lot of things…right?

“…Nothin’, cous, everything’s fine-“

“Dave.”

Behind his shades, Dave closed his eyes, and now it was his turn to yank his hand out of his cousin’s grasp; and neither noticed when the kitchen door cracked open just an inch or two—and a semi-red eye peered through to watch the exchange.

“…He deserves better than me, Rox.”

“Who, Karkat?”

“…I’ve nearly gotten him killed a few times already, Rox. I can’t protect him.”

“…Oh, Davey-“

“Fuck, I don’t even know what I’m doing…” The blond boy shook his head, running a hand down his face, “He’s been protecting me…How sick is that? That ain’t how the story’s supposed to go! And people—things—demons, angels, fucking things—want him dead, and at this point, I’m just handing him over to them on a fucking silver platter.”

“Davey, you’re only thirteen! And you’ve had a bit of training, but…but nothing that could prepare you for this…”

“I can barely jump through the Time Stream, Rox. I’ve been running on pure fucking luck at this point…He deserves a lot better than what I’m giving him.”

Roxy was silent for a moment, but she smiled at the Strider boy, and then picked up her words after a moment,

“You really like him, don’t you?”

“More than he even knows.”

“Oooh, Davey! Scandalous!”

“Shit, Roxy, don’t say it like that…” Dave snorted and shook his head, “I just…He’s a good guy. Really good guy. Great guy? Great guy. I don’t…I don’t know what we are at the moment. I feel like I probably piss him off more than he would like, but…He…I don’t know.”

“Well, you’re friends, right?”

“Yeah, duh. I think nearly saving each other’s lives a few times can push you towards friendship—if you’re us, and in some sick and twisted games, which we are.”

“Then that’s a start, right? Being friends is always good.”

“Do you check out your friend’s ass often? ‘Cause I do.” Dave sighed, shaking his head, “Such a fine ass. Fine face. Fine eyes. He’s just overall fine, heh. And so fucking cute.”

Roxy giggled loud enough to block out the choking noise from the kitchen door, and neither heard the scurrying, retreating feet of a troll.

“Oh, Davey…Having a crush on the guy isn’t a bad thing. He’s a very cute troll.”

The Strider boy found his face heating up, “Yeah, well, he’s…cute. Adorable. Yeah. Even when angry. Yeah. Guess you could call it ‘adorabloodthirtsty’? I’m just gonna shut up now, ‘kay?”

Roxy shook her head, and stepped closer to her cousin, enough to where she could envelope him in her arms.

“Davey…You need to relax. You’re doing the best you can…”

Dave kept his arms at his side for a moment; but his body sagged a bit, like he was crumbling in on himself—and he really, really was.

“…I can’t let him down, Rox. I just can’t…He…He needs me. For once in my life, someone really fucking needs me, and I can’t…” He pinched his eyes closed, eyebrows furrowing, “Just like with Bro…Shit, I-“

“Oh, Davey-“

“I couldn’t save Bro, either, Rox…He died right there, and…”

Gently, the Lalonde girl lowered the two of them to the floor, Dave nestled into her arms even more so, and now, in the secrecy of this Neon kitchen, he began to cry behind dark shades, into the shoulder of one of the few family members he had left.

“I couldn’t save him, Roxy…A-And I don’t think I’m going to be able to save Karkat, either…And…And I don’t know what I’d do with someone else’s b-blood on my hands…Especially Karkat’s…I-I thought I’d be okay with it if…if I didn’t like the g-guy and woops, he ended up dead, my bad, but…” A soft hiccup, “I c-can’t let him die, Rox…I just can’t, he needs me, and I want him alive and…”

“Shh…Easy, Davey, easy…You’ll get stronger…I promise….It takes time. It always does.”

“But will I get stronger in time to help him? That’s the fucking million dollar question, isn’t it?”

Without words, Roxy moved her hand, and gingerly lifted Dave’s shades up from his face; he visibly tensed, but when he saw the motion was done only so Roxy could wipe away the tears streaming from his eyes, he relaxed.

“Only if ya work for it, little cous.” She smiled, “You just gotta keep swimmin’ and learn to adapt to the current.”

A snort, “Who the hell told you that?”

“…Mother did.” Roxy’s shoulders sagged, “Probably one of the few pieces of advice that she gave me that I’ll ever use…”

Silently, the duet of humans sat, gazing at the floor, reality sinking into their shoulders; after a moment, Roxy picked up her voice again, going on with,

“Just…keep going. I’m behind you now. And Karkat has faith in you…I know he does.”

“I highly doubt that-“

“I saw the way he looked at you, Davey. Back there. He knew you could fix me—he knows you can do this.”

“Just like how I know you can do this?”

The girl shrugged, “Maybe! Who knows? We might as well try, right? We may be doomed to fail, but we must never fail to try.”

“…Rose-“

“Says that. I know.”

Silence some more, then a smile bloomed on Roxy’s face,

“Have you shown him your eyes yet?”

“…No.”

“Maybe you should do that. I bet he’d like them.”

Dave huffed, and pushed his glasses back over his orbs, “No, thank you. I don’t need him freaking out on me about my bright red eyes. Probably would put a whole damper on the crush thing, now wouldn’t it?”

“Maybe, maybe not. But you’ll never know unless you take that chance.”

“I think I’ll wait until we’re not in mortal danger, how about that?”

Roxy laughed, and merely shook her head, “Oh Davey…Always the optimist…” Slowly she stood, “You’re staying the night, obviously. There’s room for you and Karkat on the couch, and the freaky demon guy-“

The teenage girl turned towards the demon in question—only to find that Gamzee was snoring away by the cupboards, purple bottle of soda sitting on his lap.

“…He can sleep there.”

“Sounds perfect. No, wait. Actually, how about he sleeps outside? Away from the knives? And me?”

Another laugh came from the Lalonde lass, and she shook her head, “Oh, hush. You’ll be fine, Davey. Now…” She hummed in thought, and Dave pushed her for more, with,

“What? What now?”

“Now…I think I’ll get changed. Into my real clothing.” She smiled with pride as she took out her bright-as-a-bombshell pink sylladex, and unveiled her Rogue of Void clothing attire, it sitting in her hands, “And then I’m whipping myself and Karkat up a few drinks.”

“Roxy, even though he needs a drink, he probably won’t-“

“Psh. I’ll take that bet. No, let’s double it. I’ll bet you ten boondollars that Karkat won’t drink anything you whip up for him. But please, don’t get yourself too drunk, you hear?”

“Crystal clear, Davey. And I bet you twenty boondollars that he will drink everything I give him!”

Dave gave his cousin a smirk, a weight slowly having been lifted off his shoulders at their (heart-aching) discussion; it seemed easier to breathe now, at least for the moment. He could only do so much, he realized. And Roxy did have a point—he had to try. He had to try and protect Karkat the best he could…

Even if he was Doomed to fail.

“You’re on. Bet is sealed and done.”

They shook on it (Dave also spitting into his hand, at the disgust of his cousin), grinning from ear to ear.

“And may the best Strider-Lalonde win!”

“Oh, I plan to, Roxy. I plan to.”

---

“Really, Mi-Miss Lalonde. You can stop with the theatrics, now.” Eridan grinned at the girl across from him; Rose had immediately run to Kanaya’s side, but it was clear that the troll girl was dead. It would have only been clearer had some obnoxious, troll of an author had written the word “DEAD” in her own blood right on the ground beside her.

Rose, wide-eyed, visibly scared and even a bit teary-eyed, stroked Kanaya’s pale face, jade blood soaking into her Seer robes just as Eridan’s words hit her ears; immediately, her face tensed, becoming sterner, harder like a stone.

“Be silent, you wretched creature from the pits of the blackest holes.”

“Really, really! Stop! We both know you knew what was going to happen, Miss L-Lalonde.”

Said girl in question’s purple orbs darted away, and began boring into the sand and dirt at her feet; that damned demon, taunting her now after killing her closest companion. And yes, though his words rang true, she would not give him the satisfaction of unabated anger or derision. Instead, Rose took in a deep breath, slowly stood after gently dropping Kanaya’s head back onto the ground, and stared down her enemy.

“Indeed. I knew Kanaya was to perish at your hands. And yes, I did not warn her.”

“Of course you didn’t. B-Because you k-knew that w-warning her would change everything. I-It would create a n-new timeline, a new path, y-yes?”

“Warning her would have in turn resulted, more than likely, in the death of Karkat Vantas. And though I care deeply for this woman-“

“Past tense, dear, h-hehe.”

Rose grimaced at the creature before her, “care deeply for this woman, I knew that the choice was obvious. I had to not warn her. And these are not theatrics, demon. I did not see how Kanaya Maryam was to die—only that she would. My Sight only revealed a white light, and her corpse at the end of that beam.”

“P-Pity you are not more mature, then, and you co-could have seen the entire p-picture!” The demon with hipster hair crossed his arms, sniffing pompously, “N-Now, I suppose…It is your turn, yes?”

“I am a Seer, you pompous scalawag. I do not physically fight with weapons-“

Eridan interrupted her with a wag of his finger, “Ah-ah-ah! You know what I’m talking about, M-Miss L-Lalonde…” He paused for effect, “Aren’t you ready to go Dark? No, what is the word…? Grimdark?”

Rose, face impassive, had her body visibly stiffen, “How do you know about that?”

“I-I know ma-many things, dear.” A shark-like grin came onto his face, “I-I know that you have looked into the Void, and have seen the Horror Terrors through that white orb of yours. I know that you s-saw and c-communed with…despicable c-creatures t-through that w-white orb that exist on the e-edges of reality while y-you were in the L-Light Temple…H-Hoping…Just h-hoping…to be a l-little more like your sister who lives and thrives in the d-dark…A-And it changed you o-on the in-inside…Y-You keep s-something from everyone…a s-side…a power…that is deadlier than m-most…”

A shaky breath wracked the thirteen year old’s body, “You cannot egg me on-“

“I-I don’t have to. You are already feeling it inside you, a-are you not? The woman you are se-secretly flushed for is dead at your feet, b-because of me, a-and you knew it would happen. Y-You knew and couldn’t say anything, ahahaha! Y-You feel the darkness growing inside of you, don’t you? The s-screams of the Horror Terrors com-commanding you to ki-kill me!”

The Lalonde girl balled her fists, “Be. Silent. Your words-“

“S-Speak the truth!” Eridan outspread his wings, the mauve wings with gold encrusted into them beat out a breeze, “C-Come along, L-Lalonde! Listen to the d-darkness and come and f-fight me! S-Show me your magic, I am sure you won’t reg-regret it!”

Rose found her body hardening, and she slowly let out air from her lips, speaking,

“Fine. You wish to see what I can do, I shall indulge you.”

Slowly, she closed her eyes, hands falling out to her sides, palms facing forward; dark energy began to hum around her, a spark here or there at first, and then blackness, charcoal smog and goo, began to form at her feet, seemingly springing up from the ground beneath her blue shoes—that were blue no longer, and were instead a dark pink and white.

Her skin changed—slowly, from the healthy, somewhat sun kissed pallor to a dark and sickly gray that was borderline black; her hair became whiter, more akin to Dave’s, but with less shine; her Seer robes themselves turned into liquid, melting off her body like a river of water and they were replaced by a dark dress the color of the goo at her feet, with a white octopus decorating her chest, while a pink sash rested at her hips. Her eyes were darker, with less color in her purple irises, and more darkness instead. And finally, her small hands reached into her sash, pulling out two purple and black knitting needles, pointy and sparking black energy.

She opened her mouth, and words of a foreign tongue came out, but Eridan just chuckled, understanding her perfectly.

“Oh, I-I am quite p-pleased, L-Lalonde. Quite pleased.”

And he charged, his own wands sparking white light, but Rose, even in her darkened state, was ready—and even angrier.

For the Darkness always liked to remind her how she could be a failure at so many things…It liked to taunt her, and remind her how she failed Kanaya in life; it whispered to her how she could barely protect Dave, or Karkat, and how she was nothing like her Sister, who, though she didn’t commune with Darkness, was able to travel in the dark…

And so Rose whipped around, swinging her needles, and firing bolts of energy at her opponent, who in turn fired back; black met white, and explosions of minor quality fired into the air all around them, as Eridan flew with the use of his wings, and Rose levitated off the ground with the help of her Grimdark abilities.

They began charging at one another, and used physicality as weapons as well; a kick here from the demon, a punch and possible stab from Rose; but they were evenly matched mostly, the human blocking Eridan’s claws and grabs, while he in turn ducked and flew around her small body—he was taunting her.

Though, was he? Was he merely prolonging death for her? After all, look at what he did to Kanaya…

But Kanaya had been, for all intents and purposes, a fairly normal troll, with little major battle experience…

And Rose was…well. Rose was clearly not Rose at the moment, now was she?

And that was another thing, too—Was Eridan merely observing her? He had been so keen to know more about her…abilities. Was he taking his sweet time—maybe even holding back—in order to observe her? Learn about her and what she could do?

So many, many questions unanswered as they faced off again, this time both back on the ground—beams of light shot from their weapons, existing for some time as they clashed, sparks flying everywhere. It was like two wizards had finally meet on the battlefield, and were deciding who was King of All—only, this wasn’t Harry Potter.

This was horrifyingly real.

“W-Well done, M-Miss Lalonde! So powerful, so m-magical! A-All of my r-research on you turned out to be t-true!”

Rose spoke again in the language of the behemoths she had gotten acquainted with, Eridan answering her easily,

“Oh, M-Miss L-Lalonde, you are q-quite correct. I-I had merely w-wanted to see w-what you could do!” With a twirl of his wrist, Eridan’s powerful ray grew larger, and overpowered Rose’s; the implosion of magic sent the human careening backwards, and she landed on her butt in the dirt.

“Y-You were never in m-mortal danger, M-Miss Lalonde…You were not my target for death, so why would I kill you? And why would I kill someone so…interesting? Someone so full of contradictions and secrets?”

Rose snarled, and barked out words, and Eridan merely laughed,

“You truly want to continue to try and ki-kill me?”

The resulting flash of darkness from a needle was answer enough; but Eridan merely dodged and tutted,

“M-My dear girl, we both know that e-even Grimdark, yo-you cannot best me. You can try, but-“

But Eridan never finished his sentence with words—instead, he shrieked like a female of his species as a dark, gooey tentacle from Rose’s aura lunged and grabbed his ankle—and threw him into the nearby fountain in the city center.

Water splashed onto the dirt as he floundered for a few moments, while Rose stood with a self-satisfied smirk on her face; he may have gotten her goat, and goaded her into revealing her hand, but it had not been all of her hand.

Eridan sat up, drenched, gills twitching in agitation as he eyes shined with rage; but then he calmly sucked a breath in and out, and then smiled,

“W-Well done, M-Miss L-Lalonde, w-well done…I applaud you…” He paused, and sat back further into the water, “B-But now, I really must go…Did you know I would leave this way? Was that why you t-threw me i-into the water?” The creature chuckled, “E-Either way…G-Goodbye for now. And bury Kanaya somewhere….nice. Or give her c-corpse a kiss for me!”

With a smirk, Eridan gently fell back into the fountain—and vanished. His body melted into the liquid in which he sat, turning into water himself, bubbles of air floating up, small waves mellowing about the fountain, some droplets escaping onto the ground below. And Rose could have sworn she heard him cackling as he disappeared, too…

And Rose herself, after sighing, landed on the ground; her muscles twitched as she closed her eyes (for the Horror Terrors always loved to keep her in the Dark longer than she liked to be) but she breathed softly—and the grayness began to melt off her skin, dripping in a liquid from onto the ground below. Her clothes dissolved into dust off her body, her hair returned to normal hue, and her eyes were full of Light once again.

Quickly, thankful no one alive was around to see her naked, she pulled out a spare Seer of Light dress, and put it on—that was why she had insisted (to Kanaya’s surprise) on bringing many, many spare outfits.

Silently, the Lalonde girl observed the world around her: dead innocence at her feet, a rainbow of blood staining the ground…It sickened her to know how much she had failed, and how many she had failed, too. Not just Kanaya, no! Though she had not seen the deaths of these children, she felt their blood on her hands…because if she had Seen, she would have stopped this—and saved them.

But now, all she could do was bend down next to the dead Maryam troll, and rest her head upon her knees, stroking the black-as-night locks, while closed jade eyes and a softly parted mouth made her look as if she was just sleeping.

“Would it be selfish of me to say that I am glad you did not see me like that? No? I hope not…” Rose sighed, and reached into her satchel, pulling out any and all healing materials she had.

She was very certain nothing would work—but she had not Seen Kanaya’s death as being permanent in her vision; there had been no vision of a headstone, or a funeral, or of her burying the troll all by her lonesome…

So she had to try.

She might fail, but…

Above all, she had to try.

---

Dave was out twenty boonbucks.

He had no idea how, or what miraculous deity had blessed Roxy, but he was out twenty boonbucks—because Karkat was flat out, no-holds-barred drunk.

Okay, maybe he had been blessed a bit too—after all, he was enjoying the sights.

It had started out slow, really; Karkat had been called back to the table, the Strider noticing he looked a bit shaken up, fidgety and nervous—probably all the yelling from earlier, right?—and he was hesitant at first, his little pudgy nose sniffing the first glass Roxy had slid across to him.

“…What the hell is this garbage?”

“It’s a Mojito. Just try it!” Roxy was a vision in her dark-blue clothing; her mask fit perfectly over her eyes, her hood up with pride; she seemed her old self again in the Rogue clothing, and Dave couldn’t help but smile along with her as she joyously grinned with pride at her mixology concoctions.

“…It smells like something Strider cleans his feet with.”

“Excuse you, my feet always smell like a fresh rose garden after a rainstorm, Vantas.”

“Come on, Karkat, just take a little teensy sip? For me?” Roxy sure as hell could still pout and do the puppy eyes that had made her a star as a child—and Karkat was no match for them either, and he relented, drinking the Mojito slowly. At first, it looked like he hated the taste, face scrunched up in distaste; but slowly, his trollian tongue became use to the bitterness, and in a few moments, the drink was gone.

And it only escalated from there.

A Cherry Rum came next, followed by a Red Russian with tangy strawberry flavors (Roxy blatantly stuck with the red theme, and Karkat either didn’t notice or didn’t care), and before Dave knew it, Karkat was turning into a giggling mess, with glassy eyes, and asking for more. And he liked it.

“What’s that one!?” He was excited by the time his fourth drink was made, clearly never having been exposed to any sort of liquor in the past, save for the sips of MatriChurch wine; shaky fingers pointed and prodded glasses as Roxy made him more.

“It’s a Velvet Kiss.” Dave could have done without the blatant wink directed at him from his cousin at the end of her sentence; but Karkat was too enthralled with the taste of the drink to notice.

And then things got a bit more…wild.

Karkat, like any troll exposed to alcohol for the first time, began talking—a lot. And loudly. Boisterously describing his life story, his life in the church, him meeting Dave, clearly having forgotten that Roxy had just heard all of this (though a more toned-down version, obviously) hours before; but the blonde girl didn’t seem to care, as she just sat and smiled like a cat with a half-eaten canary, knowing she had dominated the bet between her and Dave.

It was at this point Dave, knowing he had already lost, and with Karkat not giving him much of his attention, finished his apple juice with a swig, and retreated from the kitchen to the living room, flopping onto the couch without a care just as he heard Karkat shouting about how he had been locked in the closet at two sweeps old for over four hours, and in that time made up a play with the MatriChurch Bible, the broom, and the mop and bucket (“BUCKETS! I hate buckets, don’t you!? BUCKETS BLEGH! But I LOVED that bucket and I LOVED using it in the closet!”) in the closet were actors in said play.

The Strider only chuckled, shaking his head; fatigue was wracking his body, and as much as he enjoyed the sight of drunk Karkat, Karkat was not drunk with him, really. This was Roxy’s moment with him, the two bonding over alcohol of all things, establishing a weird sense of camaraderie. He knew this wasn’t something he could (since he didn’t drink, really; and if Karkat was, he definitely shouldn’t) or should intrude upon. And rest didn’t sound too bad…sleep didn’t sound too bad…

He had closed his eyes for maybe five, ten minutes—okay, maybe it was more than that—before he felt a warm weight on his chest.

He wasn’t surprised to see who it was.

“Hey Dave! Dave, oh man, your cousin…she just…she just…” Karkat was grinning from ear to ear, spread out on top of him, head near his left shoulder—and like hell the teenager was going to complain about it.

“She did what?”

“She gave me a Sex on the Beach. SEX! ON THE BEACH!”

Dave paused for a moment to relish the fact that Karkat Vantas had shouted ‘SEX’ with the dopiest smile on his face and then chuckled a reply.

“Yeah? Did you like it?”

“It was amaaaaazing! HIC!” A tiny bubble of air escaped from the Vantas’ throat rand he giggled at his own hiccups before settling in closer to Dave, throwing an arm around his neck, his whole body snuggling.

“Good, heh. But what are you doing here, Kitten? Figured there was still some drinking ability left in ya when I left.”

“You left me and Roxy an hour ago! And she told me to come here and check on you, said you’d reaaaaally like the company! Really!”

“Did she now?” Uh-huh, like that hadn’t been said on purpose at all; but when Dave slid an arm around Karkat’s waist subtly, that was completely on purpose.

“Yep! And man, Dave, you’re so warm. Like…really fucking warm. And soft. Mmn,” Karkat snuggled more, and the human could have sworn he heard a purr as the troll rested his other hand upon his chest, “It’s amazing…”

Dave snorted, rolling his eyes behind his shades; and though he was in a good mood, enjoying the closeness of the other and his silly antics, the words that came out of his mouth told an internal tale that was quite different.

“Sure you don’t want to go cuddle with your new best friend Gamzee? You really seemed to like him, last time I checked.”

Karkat, in his haze, glanced up at him in confusion, sitting up a bit,

“Huh? What are you talking about? Gamzee isn’t my new best friend…He’s just a stupid demon, Dave. Someone’s gotta watch out for him, yeah?”

“…But you said-“

“I never said he was my new best friend!” Karkat huffed prissily, “He said that, you silly doofus!” A little giggle, “It’s like…moirallegiance, Dave! I’mma watch out for him, and he’s gonna watch out for me. Keep an eye on each other!”

“…I…I guess I didn’t think of it like that.”

Karkat tittered again, “You’re stupid, Dave.” He paused, “Dave…were you jealous of Gamzee?” He tilted his head with a curiosity that was downright adorable, and comparable to a baby kitten; the sight and the question made Dave flush bright red, his lips twitching in annoyance at his own self.

“W-What? Fuck no, I wasn’t jealous of that freak. I was just saying-“

“Oh, shut up, Dave. Davey!” Karkat just smiled, chortling under his breath as he snuggled once more into the Strider boy, humming in contentment; Dave was just glad the subject was dropped.

They were silent for some time; Karkat hiccupped once in a while, and laughed at himself and Dave joined in on letting out his own chuckles when it happened. They were content, and soon the albino boy found one of his hands had come up on its own to rest in the troll’s hair, where it stroked and caressed the short locks. Karkat, in his blissed-out state, purred and relaxed, and even nuzzled his head into Dave’s hand, sometimes bumping his horn against his fingers; that in turn made his voice louder, and he was making clicking noises in a melodic way.

Dave was more than happy to lie here for hours on end; he could just lie there, hold the troll close, and listen to him breathe and sigh and be delighted and full of bliss. And though his body enjoyed the closeness, and he felt a stirring in his loins, Dave found sobriety and sanity, and was able to ward off any unfortunate, blatant arousal.

Maybe it was their relaxed state that caused the human to eventually speak up again, because soon enough, he did, with,

“Hey Kitten?”

“Yeah, Dovey?”

The thirteen year old snorted at the nickname, “Have you…uh…ever thought about your future?”

“…What’cha mean? Like…how I’m probably gonna die?”

“No, no! And God, that’s the first thing you associate your future with? Death? Ain’t that depressing as shit…No, I mean, like…” Hesitation came to Dave then, but he pressed on, “Like…you know. A future husband…or falling for someone. You know. Things like that.”

A sick part of Dave’s mind thought that Karkat probably wasn’t drunk enough to answer such a heavy question; but once again, the troll surprised him, when after a moment’s hesitation, and another moment of thinking, he spoke up,

“…Yeah. Used to.”

“…Used to?”

More silence for a heartbeat, then,

“I dunno, Dovey. Davey. Dave? Dave. I just…” Karkat gave a sigh, “It’s not just about me not being good lookin’, you know. The whole thing…Being with someone…Now it just sounds like something for somebody else, a different kind of person. Not me.”

The human’s hand was rubbing circles into the base of the troll’s spine upon his skull, and he found his voice dropping as he countered Karkat’s statements,

“Why do you always say that you’re not good looking, babe?”

“Because it’s the truth. I thought we weren’t gonna lie to each other, Dovey?” Dave appreciated how Karkat was just letting him use the ‘babe’ nickname however many times he wished, even though hours before he abhorred the nickname; it was the little things in life, right?

“Nah, babe. You’re just lying to yourself, not me.”

With wide eyes, Karkat stared up at him, “What are you saying?”

Dave bit his lip in hesitation as he twirled a lock of midnight hair around a pale finger; eventually, he said to hell with hesitation, sighed, and spoke his words.

“I just…Look, man, you’re actually quite good looking. I ain’t just saying that-“

“Yes, you are.”

“Karkat. Don’t interrupt me.” Dave smirked, and bopped the troll on the nose, who crossed his eyes cutely at the motion, “I…I think you’re cute, okay? I don’t joke about that shit, man. Serious stuff, good looks. You think I just blatantly flirt and-or hate-flirt with everybody around me all the damn time? Shit, Karkles, that’s all you.”

…Was Dave drunk? Because he was just going to stop at ‘I think you’re cute’ but that blabbering certainly said a lot more than he had meant it to.

And it didn’t help that the troll was staring at him with wonder, a flabbergasted expression on his lips; his gray ears were twitching with either embarrassment, too much alcohol, or both, and there was a flush on his face that was certainly due to both. Karkat’s claws were also digging into his red clothes, the grip becoming a bit tighter each time. It took a moment, and after a quirk of his head, Karkat actually began to smile.

“…You…You think I’m cute?”

“…Yeah. L-Look, I mean, it isn’t supposed to be a big deal, okay? I just honestly think you’re cute-“

“I think you’re cute too, Davey!”

Dave was pretty sure his mouth actually dropped open at the troll’s exclamation, because say what now?

“…Say what now?”

Exactly.

But Karkat just giggled, and burrowed his face into the Knight’s chest, red fabric pressing against his cheek as he smirked downright diabolically.

“You heard me, HIC! Silly.”

“…Babe, you’re just saying that because you’re drunk-“

“No, I’m fucking not!” Karkat exclaimed with a frown, a bit aghast.

Dave sighed, “Look, Karkat, I honestly mean what I said. I think you’re cute, there, end of story, moving on. You ain’t got to…well. Return the favor for my sake.”

This time, the troll pouted, “Maybe I actually meant what I said, cool guy! Don’t be a—HIC!—fucking rude wastechute-eater about it. But if you don’t want to hear it…” Karkat trailed off his statement, and instead moved in Dave’s loose embrace, turning away from the human—and there were tears in his eyes.

Tears that probably weren’t just caused by there being too-much-alcohol in his system.

“…Kitten? Hey, Karkles, c’mon-“

“No! See? This is why I said falling for someone isn’t for me! No one ever listens to me! No one ever actually fucking talks to me! They just do this or that, or think they know me, or they don’t see me at all,” Karkat ranted on, one of his hands coming up to try and wipe away the escaped tears that were trailing down his cheeks, “And you can’t even tell me you’re worried about protecting me, and you feel like a piece of shit, and that’s my fault!”

“…Wait, you heard that?”

Oh…

Oh, shit…

Had…Had Karkat drunk so much in desperation…? Not joy…?

Because of hearing Dave…?

“Yeah! Fuck, how much of an asshole am I? You think…You think you’re gonna get me killed, and I shouldn’t have let you get that down in the dumps, Dovey. I should’ve kept encouraging you, I should’ve made you feel like a Knight, I should have-“

Dave had enough at that point—of his tears, of his pain, of everything—and moved his hand to grab Karkat’s chin, and he turned the troll’s face towards his own, staring up into spotted-with-red eyes, sharp fangs hidden behind quivering lips, and red-stained cheeks.

“…Oh babe, sad drunk ain’t a good look on you…” The human sighed, wiping away a streak with his thumb, “And listen. None of that stuff is your fault, Karkat…Honest.”

“But-“

“Listen to me. I…I’ve let you down in the past, okay? With Terezi, with Skaia…I…I’m just mad at myself. I’m not mad at you.”

“B-But I don’t want you mad at yourself-“

“Hush.” Dave placed a finger over the troll’s lips to silence him, “I know. And I’m gonna try not to be anymore, okay? It’s hard though, you know. Watching someone you’re supposed to be a knight-in-red-cotton-armor-for nearly getting killed because of you. Maybe I just don’t get how you already forgave me for the shit with Terezi.”

Karkat sighed, while nuzzling into Dave’s hand, “I just…I get it, okay? It was a mistake, and you couldn’t help what happened in Skaia, Davey…”

“Heh…Guess not.” Dave rubbed his thumb against gray skin some more, continuing with, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Kitten. But Striders don’t just tell people shit like a fountain of water. We keep that shit bottled up like Aquafina.”

“…That’s stupid.”

“I know, but it’s hard to break genetic code, my little angry Karkles.”

“…So…Do you believe me or not? About…Well…” Karkat worried his lip, skin flushing bright red under his freckles, and it painted a perfect picture of innocence, the first color of the rainbow decorating his skin like an aura of power, passion, and it suited him perfectly.

His mutant-blood suited him perfectly.

And Dave, now staring into his eyes, said orbs still wet and worrisome, could see it—he could see that Karkat wasn’t lying. The alcohol may have made them glassy, but his tears and emotions made them truthful. Even drunk, Karkat wouldn’t care this much about such a statement unless he actually had feeling behind it.

“…You actually mean it…” It came out breathier than the human wanted, and maybe it was because his heart was hammering in his chest; or maybe it was because Karkat’s head was still so close to his own, their noses almost touching.

The Vantas boy nodded hurriedly, and Dave pulled his head closer—not to kiss, even though a part of his mind screamed at him to do so.

But that would have been taking advantage of a situation he wasn’t prepared to suffer the consequences of.

And it just…it wasn’t Time…It was too soon, there were still too many feelings, too many questions, and Karkat would have hated him in the morning if he did so, he just knew…

Instead, he cradled the troll closer, and whispered,

“Yeah. Yeah, Kitten. I believe you. I believe ya about everything, okay?”

Maybe his little crush wasn’t so unrequited…maybe it wasn’t so hopeless.

And as Dave rested his lips on Karkat’s hair, breathing in his woodsy scent, he felt his body relaxing; because he did believe Karkat’s words about everything:

The words about how he found Dave ‘cute’ (attractive? Was that a logical substitute?).

The earlier and sober words about how he predicted death, and how he figured he wouldn’t survive the end of this—Dave believed that Karkat believed that every second of every day so far, and he also believed the troll was ready to accept that death, if it meant the rest of the world would go on turning without him.

But Dave didn’t want to believe that that would happen—if anything, he would do anything and everything to prevent that.

Because the world wouldn’t go on turning without Karkat.

It would just grow a hell of a lot darker in the eyes of the Strider boy.

The troll moved to settle closer, humming in contentment, while Dave kept his lips close to his hair—and if he pressed a kiss or two to the locks in secrecy, no one was the wiser.

“Promise you’ll believe me, Davey?”

“Yeah, babe. ‘Course I’ll believe ya. Anything you tell me, without a doubt, I’ll believe you.”

“…Thanks…”

“No problem.”

Dave would never admit aloud that his eyes got a little wet behind his shades just then; it had hit him how serious all of this was—their journey, his feelings, Karkat’s eventual ultimatum with Hell and Heaven and Life itself.

He was going to say one last remark, but when his head turned, he found Karkat had drifted off to sleep with a loud snore; his lips hesitated, but then, Dave threw caution into the wind and spoke,

“But you gotta believe me when I say I’m going to keep your ass alive.”

And if he hugged the other a bit tighter, no one mentioned it—not even Roxy, who was spying from the doorway.

They would all take these secrets to their graves—secrets of darkened nights on couches, with pitiful tears coming down their faces that were haphazardly brushed away by pale hands, of hopeful ideals and sweet, blissful attractions.

Oh well…They all had secrets already.

What was a few more in the pile, anyway?

---

She had tried everything, really; from doing resuscitation pumps of her hands and breathing air into Kanaya’s sleeping lungs, to bandaging her wound somewhat.

Rose was becoming absolutely, without a doubt, frustrated.

“Come on, Rose, think! Think!” She growled under her breath, digging through her satchel once more—could she try a hand-to-heart massage after cutting Kanaya open with a scalpel? Should she try to stitch up the wound, and throw away the bandages? What could she do? There had to be something!

“Oh damn this all to the Heavens!” The thirteen year old girl pounded a fist on the ground, eyes pinched close, willing the tears to not come; she had to be strong. She was a Lalonde, and she had the Sight! She could do this…

Even though her Sight was failing her now. She couldn’t see the most fortuitous path for Kanaya being alive once again.

The blonde began throwing her tools out on to the ground, her breath elevated in fear and desperation; with a little shout of frustration, Rose grabbed a packet of cream, and, though she knew antibiotic cream wouldn’t do any good, tried to tear at it to open it. But her fingers, shaking, failed her, and soon enough she brought up the packet to her lips, hoping her teeth would do the job.

It did—but Rose felt a sting of pain from her lips, and exclaimed a little ‘ah!’ at the realization she had cut her lip on the little, white packet.

“…” Wobbling fingers touched her lips, and came away spotted with blood; purple eyes stared in shock, her hands balling into fists.

And she reached her peak, and could no longer take any of her frustrations any more.

“AGH!” Rose threw the packet away into the sand, and with an angry shout, she began pumping her hands on Kanaya’s chest, right over her bloodpusher organ, “Come on, Kanaya! Come on! COME ON! I need you! I NEED YOU!”

She didn’t notice how tiny droplets of red human blood were dripping onto the deceased troll’s face.

And she didn’t notice, when she once again tried to give Kanaya mouth-to-mouth resurrection, that some of her blood slipped between Kanaya’s lips during the faux-kiss.

Rose knew that it was hopeless—that by killing Kanaya, Eridan Ampora had taken away her Hope of a bright future, and she felt Hopeless in regards to saving the girl—but she tried anyway; tried to push on that heart, tried to breathe life back into those lungs…

While, behind the cloak of secrecy, her blood was saving Kanaya…

For when those few drops of blood melted into Kanaya’s skin—warm, red blood of a loving human—and dripped onto her tongue…

Her skin began to glow…

Glow a beautiful, crystalline white aura….

And when the light hit the Lalonde’s eyes from her bent-over position that allowed her to reach Kanaya’s lips…

She knew, without a doubt, that she was witnessing a miracle of God…

----

Dave couldn’t sleep, but eh, when was that something knew?

Roxy had gone to bed hours ago, and Karkat was still passed out on his chest, the troll sometimes moving in his sleep, sometimes mewling, sometimes purring, and certainly more relaxed than he had been while awake.

But the Strider boy didn’t mind that he couldn’t sleep—it meant one less nightmare of another dead Karkat and another lost Dave Strider from another timeline. Plus, he could watch his companion sleep, and who didn’t want that? Guys who weren’t friends with Karkat Vantas, that’s who. Guys who didn’t care about him, didn’t have a crush on him, that’s who. And those Lame-O’s were…lame-o’s. Yeah.

Of course, he was concerned and stressed—after all, that was why he couldn’t sleep, and it was a decent reason. The night’s realizations that life was ending for so many people, and that this journey was going to be tumultuous until they reached the Altar.

Roxy might not make it out of this alive.

Jane, wherever she was, may not either.

Or Rose and Kanaya.

And Dave was certainly hoping Dirk and Jake were still alive in Xen—the city that was their next big stop, after a trek through the wooded area past Neon, and the noxious terrain that followed said woods.

And the worst part was that Dave was realizing how young they were…

Thirteen seemed so old months ago, and now? Now it seemed like he was just a child again, and the fact that he could die at thirteen sent chills to his bones.

And what if he had already died in other timelines? He only knew that Karkat had suffered in those worlds, but what of him? Was that Dave in the black-and-white suit still alive? Was his Karkat?

And he was still so weak…

How could he protect Karkat and keep his ass alive at only thirteen years old?

“Bet the old Knight was older when he did his shit…” Dave whispered to the night air, fingers tangled up in Karkat’s hair.

It hit him also that Karkat was only, technically, a year and a half older than him on the human calendar.

Fourteen years old—and he was prepared to die.

It was just…so sad. He didn’t deserve that, really.

They weren’t kids anymore—they were kids that he once knew.

“Maybe none of us were ever kids, really…” He tickled the sleeping troll’s horn, and Karkat murmured in his sleep at the touch, bringing a smile to the Knight’s face, “Least you can sleep, Kitten. S’good.”

He stared at the ceiling, seeming so small in a situation and world so big…

Why couldn’t he have been born to just meet Karkat like a normal person? No death, no Apocalypse, no creatures wanting to kill them…was it too much to ask that he find someone in a normal, painless way?

“But would it be worth anything then?” The red-eyed male shrugged and sighed, getting more comfortable on the couch—until something bumped him from his pocket.

The Watch.

The watch Karkat had given him.

“Oh-“ Dave squirmed his hand to his pants, and pulled out the necklace that was broken; looking at the hands in the lights of the city from outside the living room window revealed that the hands were stuck at four-thirteen, the cover of the clock having a crack in it, and the human only shook his head.

“You have a weird taste in gifts, babe.” But that didn’t mean Dave hated it.

Because, with a tiny spark of hope (what was that, even? Who had that nowadays?), he pressed a finger to the watch face, closing his eyes, and sucking in a breath, summoning as much energy as he could…

Thankfully, it didn’t take much.

Because with that tiny touch of his finger to the clock-face, he had been able to make the watch work again.

Tick-tick-tick; the hands started moving, and Dave gave himself a self-satisfied, just-a-bit-smug smirk; he quickly set the watch to the right time, and slung it over his head, hiding the necklace beneath his Knight clothing.

It was perfect for him—and though a part of him wanted to brag about how he had gotten it to work, the logical part of him told him to wear it in secrecy; it would mean more to him, then.

And it did.

“Thank you.” He brought Karkat closer, his lips in the shorter one’s hair, and he kissed some of the locks, softly smiling, “Thank you, Kitten.”

Because when he thought about it, a gift meant there was a bit of Hope for them.

Karkat wasn’t just giving up—he wouldn’t have even given Dave the piece of jewelry if he thought there was a) no hope in a future world with at least one of them, and b) if he thought there was no hope for a good relationship between the two of them.

Was the Vantas boy thinking romance back when he got this for him? Eh, who knew. Maybe, maybe not. Dave would put money on the latter, though.

But who said he wasn’t thinking about romance now?

And it was no secret Dave wanted to change the troll’s tune that he couldn’t have anyone in his life—whether it was to end in a few months or not. Besides, he apparently found Dave cute and that was certainly a start.

All Dave knew that the road was about to get longer and would have a lot of hellfire on it; and that, logically, he should not think of feelings towards the troll—but who said he was that logical?

He wouldn’t push, wouldn’t prod—it had to come naturally, really. Karkat had to be comfortable enough to open to him with any and all possibilities…

Even if they were to die—or, if Karkat was to die.

Which is why Dave would push just a tiny bit—teasing, laughter, playful flirtations. Maybe a casual touch here, a back rub there. Yeah, that plan could work.

He had to convince the other that it was okay to open up—that if he did find him cute, it was okay! That he could let that out! And that he should (not just because Lil’ Dave would be the happiest boner in the world), because…well…

If this was all going to end, then he (shouldn’t die a virgin) shouldn’t let those feelings just not come to fruition…right?

Surely a crush wouldn’t hurt anyone, right?

…He didn’t want to think that it was anything more than that.

That the ‘L Word that wasn’t Lesbian’ was going to come into play. Nope. No way. Vantas wasn’t…Karkat wasn’t…

He wasn’t Karkat’s…

Well.

‘s-word-that-wasn’t-shit-but-actually-soul mate’.

Right?

“…I don’t know what I’m doing, babe…” He nuzzled the other; Dirk hadn’t been suave with Jake, but he had still snagged him—and Dirk had been in love, and still was, Dave knew that for certain.

So…what about him, then?

The albino closed his eyes, trying to will away his anxiety, and maybe get some sleep.

But sleep never truly came; he dozed here or there, but was always awoken with a start, or a vision of death, or of a passionate kiss between Another Dave and Another Karkat.

Was he in a romantic relationship with him in multiple timelines? Because Dave could have sworn that Other Him had a white suit. And that another had a green suit.

Aradia had said there were at least ninety-nine other timelines…Was he with Karkat in all the rest?

It was a shocking idea, and one that caused butterflies to form in his stomach—and caused him to hug his own Karkat just a bit tighter.

He wouldn’t sleep for the rest of the night; but that was okay, because he was, still, alive.

And Karkat was alive. That was what really mattered, right? That he was alive and safe and breathing.

And even though the troll woke up groggily in the morning, and proceeded to vomit from his hangover onto Roxy’s carpet (and eventually the toilet, when Dave escorted him to the bathroom, the troll screeching all the while), he was still happy, and maybe even smiling (or smirking—it was funny that Karkat was cursing ‘THAT GODDAMN SEX ON THE BEACH. FUCKING HELL.’).

And even though, once Karkat was cleaned up, they had an awkward moment, both remembering what they had said last night, both boys blushing just a bit, they let it go, with,

“…I said stuff last night, didn’t I?”

“Yep. You remember what it was?”

“…Yeah.”

“…And?”

“And I fucking said stuff. You want to make a federal fucking case about it, Strider?”

“Nope. Just wondering if you’re gonna retract any statements for the judge, jury and legislacerators or whatever the hell that shit is called.”

Silence, then, “…No. I don’t take back things I said and things I meant.”

And Dave flushed a bit, his expression struggling to remain neutral, but it did, and he finished the conversation with,

“Well good. ‘Cause I do that too. Got it?”

Karkat’s ears twitched then, “Got it. Let’s get out of here.”

There, that was it.

They had, in the middle of the night, admitted to each other that they found one another ‘cute’.

It was really no big deal—right?

It just made Dave a bit giddy on the inside.

And he could have sworn Karkat was trying not to smile once he left the bathroom.

But that was just imaginary…right? He wasn’t supposed to get his hopes up…right?

Eh, whatever. He was a Strider, he could work with this.

After all, Karkat still screeched when he gave him a ‘bro-slap’ on the ass and tried to pull his hair out, pushing him down to the ground and tumbling under Roxy’s kitchen table.

And after all, Karkat still huffed in annoyance when he just did it again, punching him in the arm.

So in all honesty, things really hadn’t changed that much…

Even if, very, very soon, they were about to—and neither of them knew it just yet.

---

“…My God…” Rose breathed out as she stared from her prone position on the ground, a hand covering her mouth daintily.

Kanaya was alive.

Breathing, standing, the hole in her body having healed itself up.

And she was glowing…

“K-Kanaya…you’re glowing.”

“Mm?” The young woman looked confused, and took out her sylladex, and then a compact mirror so she could look into it, “Why…Yes. I am.”

“B-But you were dead mere minutes ago! What…What…” Rose was flabbergasted, and Kanaya, unusually calm about magically finding herself resurrected back into the world of the living, merely shrugged, and opened her mouth.

“I am…unsure. You say you cut your lips and then tried to breath air into my lungs, yes?”

“Yes, but-“

Kanaya opened her mouth, revealing her pointy troll teeth that were just a smidge pointier and sharper—and deadlier.

“Hmm…That explains it. I have been turned into a Rainbow Drinker, it seems.”

“…You are a what?” Rose slowly stood, eyes normally calm betraying her confusion, “I do not understand.”

“A Rainbow Drinker, dear. It would be what humans call ‘vampire’. It makes sense, really. The blood of a Seer of Light entering my body in order to heal me…Blood plus Light equals Rainbow Drinker, yes?” She gestured to her glowing skin, “Though I am certain that is not how normal Rainbow Drinkers are made…I do believe many of them are—were—jade bloods…So perhaps my predisposition was a tad genetic, too.”

“…But will you be alright? You are technically undead, and vampires-“

“Now, now, don’t worry,” Kanaya waved a hand, bending over to pick up her fallen chainsaw, turning it back into a lipstick, “I am merely thankful that you accidentally cut yourself—if you had not, I would probably still be dead. And though I am undead, I am not immortal, Rose. I can still die, and I can still fight. Perhaps I will be a bit stronger now.”

“…And feeding?”

Kanaya smiled, “Well, I will still eat normal trollian cuisine. But…yes. I shall have cravings for blood, now.”

Rose’s lips twitched into a bit of a smirk that was borderline flirtatious, “I suppose I shall have to make the hard sacrifice and be your supply for the time being, yes?”

And Kanaya returned the smirk, eyes twinkling with mirth, “Why yes, I do suppose that is true. But I am sure you will taste delicious, Rose. Now come, we must be on our way.”

“Do you want to rest at all? A-And these children…”

Kanaya sighed, “There is nothing we can do now. Let us line up their bodies, and their families will take care of the rest. Besides, we should not stay around too long—they may question us, and then…”

“They would think us guilty, a Seer and a Rainbow Drinker together seeming odd and suspicious.”

“Exactly.”

So they lined up the children’s bodies by the fountain, packed up their things, and fled into the trees—with revenge and fighting on their mind.

Kanaya knew her boy was in danger, and that just wouldn’t do—her inner Dolorosa screamed at her to keep moving, keep getting stronger, and that being a Rainbow Drinker would in turn help her and make her succeed.

Perhaps even The Dolorosa had been a Rainbow Drinker…

And Rose knew it was time to get serious—about her own abilities, things that were not out of hand, and the (very) probable infatuation she had upon the newly-made-again troll at her side.

But crushes were no big deal; Rose could handle it logically, just like everything else she took on.

And if she Saw that she was to kiss Kanaya two nights from now, well, who was she to say no to that? A fool, that is who.

She knew there was less of a chance either she or Kanaya would die, and she had been harboring feelings for the woman for many months, in all honesty; so perhaps it was more than a crush, but…

But there would be time for declarations of care and passion later.

Right now, they had a job to do.

And right now, the world was about to burn.

Once they had a break, they could talk…surely that break would come eventually…

Because even fires need to be put out eventually.

And even rainstorms stop to give way to a new day…

And they give way to a new rainbow to light the way to new beginnings, and Paradise as well…

Chapter Text

Eight

Blessed Be the Storytellers

The group of four immediately was cut in half the next morning, on the edge of Neon’s city limits. Roxy quipped with glee (and apparently wasn’t that hung-over, the sweet thing) and gave the boys kisses on their cheeks, before melting into the shadows of the trees, feet falling first into the Void via the darkened shade upon the grass, followed by her torso and head; it was a liquid transportation, smooth and easily, like her body was the nighttime air. The girl had said she was off to the Temple of Life, to recruit Jane to the cause, and she would meet up with Dave soon enough, once the Temple was secure, and the surrounding cities were safe as well.

Gamzee was the next to go, but his path wasn’t told to the traveling duo. Instead, the conversation was vague and quite annoying to Karkat.

“Well, my holy motherfuckers, this is the stop on my motherfucking journey train.”

“…What are you babbling on about, you cantankerous clown?”

“Gotta part from my best friend and his pasty pony-“

“I’m a what?”

“For the time being.” Gamzee gave them a gleeful grin, sharp troll teeth visible, “Don’t worry. I’ll be back eventually. Gotta take care of some biznitchin’ business.”

Karkat furrowed his brow, “You’re leaving? To go where?”

Gamzee merely shook his head and touched Karkat’s nose, “It’s a secret, best friend. An amazing, mirthful secret. Gotta take care of some ‘hellish’ business, if you know what I mean. HONK!”

“Well, that ain’t concerning in the least. In fact, I’m actually relieved-“

“Shut your pie hole, Strider, now isn’t the time,” Karkat snapped at the human, interrupting his ironic banter, “…Gamzee. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“Yeah, motherfucker! Ain’t gonna be nothing but me recruiting and reporting to some spies for yours truly. Gotta stay fresh up on what my fucking Pops is doing, yeah? Gotta make sure he doesn’t come after you and mess up all your cool heroic plans, motherfucker. Don’t worry, I’ll be careful. Just gonna corner some demons and show them the most mirthful way to happiness is to help me. HONK! I can be very motherfucking convincing…” It would have been a lie to say that Gamzee’s smile wasn’t fear-inducing at all; because it certainly was. And his eyes had a bit of a red tint in those yellow sclera that were usually so calm and joyful.

“…Well…Alright. Just know what you’re doing and don’t get yourself killed.” Karkat snorted at the other troll, crossing his arms; but Gamzee merely gave him a smile, and skipped over to the shorter one, pulling him in an embrace, despite Karkat’s squawking and displeasure, and his flailing arms and legs.

“See ya later, best friend….and pasty human.” Gamzee unveiled a red soda bottle, and threw it up into the air; it crashed onto the ground, and exploded into a storm of red dust and cherry droplets of liquid—and the demon vanished into oblivion, into places unknown.

“…He’s a flashy asshole.” Dave spat under his breath once Gamzee was gone.

“And you’re not, Strider?” The Vantas snorted in retaliation, rolling his eyes at the hypocrisy, “You’re just upset that he doesn’t like you.”

No, I’m upset that he likes YOU… “Yes, because I won’t have a happy, fulfilled life until a crazed-psychopath-of-a-demon appreciates my presence, Karkles. You figured out the secret to all of my problems and the answer to my sadness. You are going to become the next great therapist, Vantas, you’re making me proud, there’s a tear in my eye, a manly tear, and—ow! Ow, ow, Karkat, stop! Shit! Let go!”

But the troll didn’t let go of his grip on the Strider’s ear until he was good and ready, and then he proceeded to put his hands on his hips, an eyebrow raised; Dave could only smirk, and stated,

“Are you going for the sassy, gay-best friend look with that pose? I like it.”

“Get in front of me-“

“Oh hell yes, been waiting to hear that one for a while, pants off, right-“

“And get us out of these woods,” Karkat snarled, bearing his fangs (even though it just made Dave smirk more), “And tell me where we’re supposed to head next.”

Realizing the joke was over, the human obeyed the other, and proceeded to walk, Karkat falling into step beside him as they spoke,

“Once we get through these woods, we’ll encounter the Xenon Plains—you remember reading about them before?”

“Aren’t they the noxious tombs of an old civilization? And that somehow, for some stupid, inane reason, that civilization buried their dead in a way that caused that deadly gas to form?”

“Yep. And it’s why the town of Xen is named, well, Xen.”

“’Xen’ is Old Alternian for ‘Free’—so technically, Xenon is ‘Gas of Freedom’…I guess if death is freedom, that makes a lot of fucking sense.”

“Aww, look at my little language student,” Dave gushed, “So proud of you.”

“I just actually read books, Strider, instead of looking at the pretty pictures like you did.”

“Hey, those picture books were rad as shit, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” Dave huffed with false annoyance, “Anyway, Xen was built on the edge of the tombs, so we don’t have to worry about any gas problems there. Pretty clean town, actually. Nice place to raise a family.”

“But we have to worry about the gas in the actual plains, right?” When Dave nodded, Karkat continued, with, “…You don’t have any masks, do you?”

“Nope. Figured we’d figure that out eventually.”

“…”

“What?”

“One of these days, I think I’ll cut off your shame globes and throw them to wild animals, just to see what you’d do, and to get revenge for your sheer stupidity that causes my migraines on a daily basis.”

“…I kind of need those ‘shame globes’, though. They’re attached to Lil’ Dave and he likes-“

“If you’re referring to your human phallic organ, I’m going to ask you to stop speaking right now.”

“But-“

“Stop. Speaking.”

The order resulted in Dave being silent for all about five minutes, until he began pestering Karkat as they traversed through the quiet woods that stretched out for miles before them. Usually it was inane things—teasing, joking, witty banter; sometimes Karkat retaliated with words, sometimes with action (the Strider became intimate with tree branches often), but each time, his lips puckered, as if he was trying to hide a fond smile. Nine times out of ten it was hidden, but even Dave’s shades couldn’t block out the eye rolls or the gentle pushes into bushes that occurred. And believe me, Dave got very intimate with the bushes—about as intimate as he got with stairs as a child.

They stopped often, with Dave resting against a tree, and a jittery Karkat climbing said tree like a monkey; after the third time it happened, Dave questioned him about the odd behavior,

“Yo. Why the chimpanzee act?”

“…Excuse me?”

“Why’re you climbing the trees? Last time I checked, trolls weren’t apes.”

“Thank God we’re not or I’d have already clawed out my own visual orbs. And to answer your question—one you really had no business even asking—I’ve been climbing because it gives me a better view of what’s coming up.”

Karkat didn’t need to say the silent idea that he was jittery, anxious, and waiting for another attack; he wanted to be prepared, to look for a way of escape if necessary, and Dave completely understood why—which was why he didn’t bark ironic statements or act smart towards the other; instead, he gave him a nod, and spoke,

“Good by me. Let me know if you see anything.”

The red-blooded boy looked genuinely surprised at Dave’s maturity, eyes wide and mouth pursed; but he only slowly nodded and gazed from his perch some more, until it was time to move on.

The rest of the journey through the woods was peaceful; only a few animals scattered here or there at their feet, and they spoke most of the way into the daylight. Only once was Dave actually tackled by the other, causing him to laugh—and it was somewhat deserved; after all, if someone had repeatedly quoted Gone with the Wind quotes at him for twenty-minutes, nonstop, doing his best to squeeze them into any sentence, even if it made it asinine (“Strider, why in God’s name are you still talking?” “Why, I don’t know nothin’ about birthin’ no babies!” “AGH!”), he would have tackled said person as well.

Soon, after hours of walking, the forest was thinning out before their eyes, and each male internally sighed with relief—until they got closer to the edge.

Because there was someone there.

“…Dave.” Karkat held out his hand to stop the other, and then pointed with the other, “Look.”

A young male was leaning up against one of the last few trees in the woods, in a lime-green suit and a white-button up shirt; his hair was pale, platinum-blond, nearly white…

And he was wearing sunglasses.

“…No.” Karkat chuckled nervously, “Dave, is that-…What’s going on?” His amber-red eyes were darting back and forth between the male at his side, and the other who had turned his head, straightened his body, and was coming towards them.

“…” Dave remained silent, his orbs wide behind his shades; he knew who that was.

It was the Dave from a nightmare in nights past.

It was another Dave…from another timeline.

“…Sup.” The green-suited male stood in front of him, his hidden stare boring into Dave’s own; and though internally he was flabbergasted and shrieking like a little girl, the regular Strider merely shrugged and countered with,

“Nothin’. Sup with you?”

“Eh. Pretty boring back home. Figured I’d stop in, say hello, give some advice, talk, blah, blah, blah. That sort of shit.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. That a problem?”

“Psh. Hell no it’s not.” Why did he suddenly find it so hard to act cool…in front of himself? Was it because this was so far out of left field that, inside, Dave didn’t know how to react? Was it because he hadn’t seen this coming? Was it-

“WHAT THE FUCKING HELL IS GOING ON!?” Karkat interrupted his inner monologue with a shriek, “WHY IN THE NAME OF ALL THE GODS AND TERRORS ARE THERE TWO OF YOU!? JESUS CHRIST, THE WORLD IS ENDING, I KNEW IT. TWO DAVE STRIDERS, TWO. THAT…THAT CAN’ T BE POSSIBLE!”

Both Striders turned to gaze upon the bewildered troll, whose hands were in his hair, pulling at the strands with frustration, eyes bugging out, and he continued on,

“Dear God, I’m hallucinating. Yep. I’ve finally lost it. Dad’s powers finally fried my brain and I’m just imagining things. Next thing you’ll know, Roxy will appear in some Technicolor clothing with a giant-ass lollipop and ice-cream in her hair and she’ll sing and dance and try and grab my ass again and talk about MARRYING ME! Oh God, shit, I might as well just jump off his shit of a rock and fall into space. I knew it, I knew it would end like this-“

“Dude, chill,” the regular Dave interrupted him with a chuckle, not hiding his smirk, “It’s just another me from another timeline-“

But he didn’t finish the sentence—because the other Dave interrupted him.

“…Karkat…”

And Dave whipped his head around to his doppelganger in green, immediately struck with worry in his head; because the way the other had just…breathily whispered his friend’s name had struck a chord of confusion in his head. And now that he could stare at his other self with perceptive eyes, he saw a form of stillness in the Green Dave’s body that was startling, and his breath elevated as if he was just seeing Karkat for the first time…in months, if not years.

Like he was seeing a dead friend back on Alternia well and alive…

Like he was seeing a dead lover back on Alternia well and alive…

“Yeah? What the fuck do you want, you asshole—AH!”

But he in turn was interrupted—when the Green Dave ran at the troll, enveloping him a tight hug, pressing his young body as close to the troll’s as possible; Karkat gazed over his shoulder into his own Dave’s eyes, scared, surprised, and not knowing what to say—and neither did Dave himself, as he watched his other hug the troll with abandonment and passion that must have been tempered for so long.

“…Hi Karkat…” Green Dave’s voice was string-thin, and he gave the other a squeeze, “…How’re you doing?”

Blinking, Karkat didn’t know what to say, and his hands were floating in the air as if they didn’t know what to do—which they didn’t.

“…F-Fine, I guess…”

But slowly, he placed those shaking appendages on the human boy’s shoulders, and the Dave in the green suit just smiled a bit wider, and nodded his head,

“Y-Yeah? Good…That’s good…” And he gave the troll another squeeze.

And from the other side of the hug, while frowning, the regular Dave Strider realized it was going to be a very long night…

---

Dave let his Other Self hug Karkat for a few moments, gaze hidden, face blank, trying not to care that there was another him here, standing, breathing, and looking exactly like him, and hugging his best crush-friend…thing.

It also didn’t help that they looked exactly alike—granted, Dave saw Other Daves all the time, but when they were in the flesh and standing right in front of him?

Fucking creepy.

They were the same--except Dave wouldn’t be caught dead in a lime-green suit. Sheesh, what was this guy thinking? Green?

It didn’t help that once Green Dave’s eyes found Karkat, he never left the troll’s side; he was brash and bold enough to grab Karkat’s hand as he let him go from the hugs, and pull him towards the edge of the woods, where the two of them sat against a tree—leaving Dave to go and get firewood as the sun was setting, and night was setting in.

“Oh fine, let the Beta Timeline Dave go and do all the work, just fucking great…” The Strider grumbled as he failed to not periodically glance over his shoulders, while sticks were in his hands, at the duo; Karkat at least seemed annoyed by the surprising development—but he still let this other Dave hold his hand.

Seriously, did Karkat even know where that hand had been? Because Dave sure did!

It’d probably been in no-no places, and Karkat’s hand-virginity-purity was probably at stake, if anything.

“Sup dude,” Green Dave greeted him when he returned and plopped the sticks on the ground, probably more loudly and violently than he had needed to, “Thanks for getting the wood.”

“…No problem.”

“Wanna light the fire, man?”

“Why don’t you do it? The sticks are closer to you, see?.” Why yes, he had dropped the sticks right at the Other Dave’s feet—hoping to make a point.

“But you already got the wood; might as well finish the job you started, yeah?”

They were having a stare-off after Green Dave finished his quip, and neither missed how Karkat’s eyes were darting back and forth nervously between the two, his brows furrowed; neither of them spoke, but Dave crossed his arms, while Green Dave casually leaned back, not hiding the smirk that was slowly blooming on his face.

“Look, I don’t fucking care who does it, just someone build a damn fire already!” Karkat huffed after a moment of no words and no fire, and yanked his hand out of Green Dave’s hold, crossing his own set of appendages, “Honestly, now that there’s two of you, my head just hurts more. So I don’t care who does it, but someone light the fucking fire before my ass freezes off.”

“Aw, Kitten, just relax,” Green Dave gave the troll a smile, and slyly slid his arm around his shoulders, “Dave will take care of it. You just relax and-“

“Get your arm off of me before I bite it off, you ill-dressed, pale-faced monkey.” The Vantas snarled, but the Other Dave just smiled, and slowly slipped his hand down, so his fingers could rest against the troll’s back.

Dave silently gave himself a point for Karkat’s support of Other Dave’s poor fashion choices.

Dave: 1, Green Dave: 0.

And then decided to go about this whole situation another way.

“Babe, really, don’t worry,” Dave held out a hand, getting onto his knees, “I will build you the hottest, reddest fire this side of space and paradox space. It’d be un-chivalrous of me not to, right?” He really did try his best to hide the shit-eating grin, but Dave certainly didn’t hide his quirk of an eyebrow, or the little nod he gave his companion, “It’ll be the best fire you’ve ever seen. It’ll keep those little troll fingers of yours warm and safe, all thanks to yours truly.”

Immediately, Dave got to work building the sticks up, using his subtle OCD to make sure it was absolutely perfect (and because Karkat had an even worse obsessive-compulsive attitude), and he didn’t miss the quick twitch of Green Dave’s lips at his compliancy and chivalry; all Karkat did was shake his head and sigh, but it was better than being lectured.

Dave: 2, Green Dave: 0.

So Dave easily smiled when he started to rub the sticks together, because this was working out just fine—Karkat would appreciate his hard work, Other Dave could suck it for being a flirtatious asshole (was he himself that much of a flirtatious asshole? Fuck no he wasn’t), he and Karkat could get cozy by the fire…

…But the fire that wasn’t starting.

“…Having trouble, dude?”

Dave moved his eyes pointedly towards his counterpart, and glared at him from behind his shades; they were both hiding their eyes, but the red-clothed Strider boy knew the other could see it—why else would he be smirking and sneakily moving a hand towards Karkat’s own?

Dave: 2, Green Dave: 1? Okay, give the jerk one point.

“…We ran out of matches in the caverns, after those three days or so, so I have to improvise.”

“I could try instead, if you want?”

Was Dave—Regular Dave-- really this much of an asshole? Really?

“No, thanks, I’ve got it, man. Wood’s probably just a bit wet.”

“Or you’re doing it wrong.”

“Chill, man. Patience is a motherfucking virtue, as we both know-“

“But maybe if you just let me take over for ya instead, we could get a fire going faster—or already have one-“

“You didn’t want to help earlier!”

“Yeah, well, you ain’t exactly doing a great job, and I’m sure I could handle it a lot quicker. Besides, Kitten over here is getting cold.”

Had his voice been sing-songy? Was Dave just imagining that?

Dave: 2, Green Dave: 2, for bringing Karkat into it, the jerk.

“I’m not that cold, you ass-“

“I can handle it, thank you,” Dave interrupted with too much of a smile, hands rubbing the sticks even harder, “I think I know how to start a fucking fire.”

“I’m sure you do—I am you, and I know how to start a fire.” Green Dave was returning the smile, his lips twitching just a tad, voice rising in time with his other self, “But you’re obviously not doing it right, and I would rather not go back home with pneumonia, and I certainly don’t want Karkat to be upset-“

“I’m not upset!” Karkat interjected, but his exclamation was ignored for more argumentation between the two Striders.

“I think I can take care of Karkat just fine, thank you.” Dave grounded out, fist gripping a wooden stick hard enough to nearly break it.

“Then why don’t you build him a fire?”

“That’s what I’m trying to do! If you would shut up-“

“Oh, I should shut up? Says the Dave who always goes on about rap music and ironically jokes about Gone With the Wind—which we never saw, hot stuff.”

Okay, screw the points-system—it was on.

Dave huffed, throwing the sticks to the ground as he stood and confronted the other, “I am you, so I know you do that too! And that movie is a fucking masterpiece, massive crush on Rhett Butler over here. And at least I don’t hit on another world’s Karkat like a little hussy.”

That got the Green Dave to stand, snarling, “Shut the hell up, Red.”

“You started it, Greenie.”

“You want to take this outside?”

“We are outside, dumbfuck. We can take this into the woods instead.”

“Glad to. Good thing I brought Bro’s katana with me.”

They were inching closer to one another, while Karkat was seated on the ground with wide eyes,

“Guys-“

“I have a Knight of Time sword.”

“Oooh, aren’t you some fancy shit, Red. Not all of us got to get a fancy sword when we were Knighted.”

“Don’t tell me you were Knighted in that green abomination.” Dave sneered while the other just let out a bark of a laugh, put his hands on his hips, and leaned in to whisper,

“My Karkat thought it was hot. Said suits were the way to go, and we even nearly fucked while I was in it-“

Dave didn’t let him finish his sentence, and instead grabbed the eye-trauma-inducing lapels of the other’s suit, growling, bringing his face closer so he could spit out,

“Why are you such an asshole?”

“Shouldn’t you be asking yourself that, too?”

There was silence for a few seconds, the tension escalating—and it crashed like waves on rocks when Green Dave spoke up again,

“Maybe you should go back to your little boy comics and raps, Red. Because we might be the same age, but I’ve seen a hell of a lot more than you. And right now, you’re just a boy. Nothin’ like a man. Nothing like a Knight—nothing like The Old Knight before us.”

And something snapped in Dave with those words, and he brought his fist back as quickly as he could—but not quickly enough, because the third member of their party leapt to his feet, screaming,

“ENOUGH, YOU ASSHOLES! FOR GOD’S SAKE!”

Karkat wasted no time—and it helped that both Daves froze like icebergs at his screeching—and he ran over to the Strider in red, grabbed his arms, and tugged him to his knees onto the ground; his voice was still high-pitched and shrilly, angry and frustrated, when he continued on with,

“THIS is how you make a fire, you dumbass. ARE YOU WATCHING?”

“U-Uh-“

“I SAID, ARE YOU WATCHING?”

“YES! YES, OKAY!” Dave almost whined out, face no longer a mask of cool authority, but one of confused childishness.

“GOOD!” Karkat yanked Dave’s hands into a gray-appendage grasp, put sticks between Dave’s pale fingers, and moved his hands for him, “ARE YOU PAYING ATTENTION? ARE YOU?”

“…” Dave was actually staring at Karkat instead of paying attention because of how close he was on his right, face inches away—he could have kissed that soft, pudgy cheek if he wanted, and an evil part of his brain said for him to do it—make that Other Dave squirm, make him see that this was his Karkat, that there would be no asshole intrusions, and hey, it would be nice to just finally kiss that cheek and-

“STRIDER!”

“W-What, huh, yeah, I’m paying attention, full attention Professor Karkat, yep-“

“GOD, YOU ARE SUCH AN ANNOYING PIECE OF SHIT RIGHT NOW!” Karkat bellowed, rubbing Dave’s hands faster until, “THERE! SEE!”

A spark came up, and the wood in front of them slowly became awash in an amber glow; each little flame jumping from one log to the next, eventually birthing a glowing pit of fire.

“THAT IS HOW YOU MAKE A FIRE. GOT IT?”

“Y-Yep-“

“GOOD!” Karkat then dragged the human to his feet, and shoved him towards Green Dave, “NOW, I DON’T KNOW WHAT LITTLE GRUBS WORMED UP INTO YOUR BRAINS TONIGHT, STRIDER AND STRIDER, BUT I AM NOT GOING TO JUST SIT ON MY RUMP ASSHOLE AND LISTEN TO YOUR BULLSHIT. UNDERSTOOD?”

Both Daves, magically, nodded in synchronization, and let the troll rant on,

“NOW, I DON’T KNOW WHY YOU ARE HERE, OTHER STRIDER,” A sharp claw pointed at Green Dave, “AND I REALLY DON’T GIVE A SHIT AS LONG AS YOU DON’T KILL EITHER OF US. BUT YOU AREN’T GOING TO COME HERE AND ANTAGONIZE THIS WORLD’S DAVE STRIDER, UNDERSTOOD?”

“O-Of course, babe-“

“AND IF EITHER OF YOU CALL ME ‘BABE’ FOR TH REST OF THE NIGHT, SO HELP ME GOD, I’LL RIP OFF YOUR TOES AND SERVE THEM TO THE CROWS IN THIS WOODS, THEN KILL THOSE CROWS, TAKE OUT THE DIGESTED APPENDAGES FROM THEIR BIRDY STOMACHS, AND THEN FORCIBLY SEW THEM BACK ONTO YOUR PUTRID PAIRS OF FEET. IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?”

Both Daves blanched the color of snow, and Karkat took that as an answer.

“GOOD. NOW DAVE,” This time pointing at his own human, “YOU ARE NOT GOING TO BITCH AT THIS OTHER DAVE. I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOUR PROBLEM IS-“

“H-Hey!”

“OR WHAT HIS PROBLEM IS,” Karkat once again gestured to the lime-toting Dave, “BUT I’M NOT GOING TO STICK AROUND FOR IT. YOU DIPSHITS ARE GOING TO WORK THIS OUT. I DON’T CARE IF YOU WALK INTO THE WOODS, A RIVER, OR ANOTHER CITY TO DO IT, BUT YOU’RE GOING TO DO IT.” His fangs were clear in the moonlight, and subtly, both Strider boys inched closer to one another for safety, “I DIDN’T COME THIS FAR TO LISTEN TO TWO STRIDERS BULLSHIT AND SPOUT NONSENSE AND FIGHT EACH OTHER. BECAUSE THOUGH I MAY DESERVE A PAINFUL, AGONIZING DEATH DUE TO MY INCAPABLITIES TO LEAD OR HAVE ANYONE GIVE A SHIT, I DO NOT DESERVE LISTENING TO YOUR SEED-FLAPS GO ON AND ON! IS THAT CLEAR?!”

“Y-Yep-“

“Crystal, Kitten.”

“GOOD!” Karkat stretched an arm out back into the deep and dark woods, “NOW GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY SIGHT. AND DON’T COME BACK UNTIL YOU WORK OUT YOUR HUMAN TEENAGE ADOLESCENT PROBLEMS. BECAUSE I’M JUST DISGUSTED. MY DISGUST COULD FILL A RIVER. FULL OF…NOXIOUS WATER. AND SEAWEED. MIND-NUMBING SEAWEED THAT WOULD DESTROY THE CELLS OF YOUR THINKPAN.”

Both Daves looked at one another with concern, and Green Dave nudged the Beta Dave into speaking; because he sure as hell wasn’t going to question another’s Karkat, especially about safety—but Regular Dave did.

“…Are you sure you’ll be fine on your own, Kitten?”

“YES!” The screech was loud enough to startle the bats in the trees and caves in the twenty-mile vicinity, “JUST GO!” And with a swoosh of his cloak, Karkat turned, tucking himself into the base of a tree, his back to the humans.

“…” Both Daves, their eyes on one another, just gave a nod of agreement; they hastened their steps, and meandered back into the trees from whence they had come. Silence followed them, each male having their hands in their pants pockets, Dave staring off to his right, Green Dave off to his left.

They took a right turn, and came to a cresting hill, overlooking a small river in the distance; the sky was clear of any fires this night, and even more so because they were in the countryside. Neon was now just a speck in the distance, and was in the opposite direction in which they stood now. Here, on this grassy knoll, the stars were actually shining, and Alternia’s pink and green moons were visible orbs in the sky, the size of a child’s marbles. On a nicer night, Prospit and Derse would have been seen too; maybe they were visible, Dave’s mind thought, but from the opposite side of the world.

He could smell how fresh the air was here, how there was just a hint of humidity in the wind, and a prediction of rain was on the tip of his tongue. For the first time in a long while, there was no smell of sulfur or of smog and flames; he could actually breathe without choking on the scent of dead flesh.

“…Look. Man.” Green Dave spoke up first, coming to plop down onto the grass on Dave’s left, “I just-“

“Why are you here, man? What was the point of all that bullshit back there?” Dave remained standing, but turned on his other self, “I really didn’t appreciate you muscling in on my territory, or nearly fucking humiliating me in front of him.”

“….I know. Sorry. It’s…” The Other Dave sighed, and pulled his legs towards his body, so he could hug them, while his fingers twitched, “It’s been a long journey. And I ain’t here to ‘muscle in’, dumbass. I…Shit, this isn’t easy to say.”

Dave sighed, and seated himself down, figuring this conversation was going to take a while, “Fine. Then take your time and just say it when you can. Pretty sure Karkat doesn’t expect us back for a while.”

“I just hope he expects us back at all, and both of us alive.”

“I don’t think he’d find it sexy if I returned with your severed head.”

Green Dave snorted, “Or me with yours.”

They both smirked at their dark, dry wit; it wasn’t always that dark—times had certainly changed.

“It’s…just been a long journey. No, it was a long journey.”

“What I gather from that is that it’s over for you. That right?”

“Yup.”

Silence came forth, because neither wanted to broach the subject—even if it was poking at their skins like wily wasps and biting bugs.

“…So…How did it end?”

Green Dave didn’t hide the fact that he curled up more into himself; he didn’t hide how he bit his chapped and wind-bitten lips, and his voice was quiet when he answered,

“He’s dead.”

“…Oh…”

“I couldn’t save him.” Green Dave snorted, shaking his head; a shaky hand ran through white fringe atop his forehead, “I couldn’t fucking save him.”

“...Dude, you don’t have to say-“

“No, you need to know. You need to know how fucked up all this shit is, okay? Because maybe if I tell you—if I tell the last fucking Dave out there—maybe we can at least save one out of a hundred, got it?” He huffed out a puff of air, and threw his hands to the ground, “The angels grabbed him. We were fighting, and actually, we were about maybe over half-way through all of this messy bullshit. Three of them bombed us—Aradia…the pink one like a fish, Feferi…shit, I can’t even remember the last one’s name, but he was big. And it was just the two of us, Jake and Dirk weren’t there to help, there’d been an emergency at the Temple of Life…And they took me down pretty fucking quickly.”

“…How did it happen? You know…It.”

This time the Other Dave turned away, and Dave could see that his teeth were digging into the lips now in a way that could only be painfully—there were droplets of blood visible against the pale expanse. His voice was more hollow, and catching on every other word.

“They knocked me down; leg was broken and stabbed through, and I couldn’t get to him. I remember crawling through the grass and grabbing his hand just as Aradia grabbed him, and…and she flew up into the clouds with him. Pulled him right out of my grasp.” A gasp, a painful recollection, “He was screaming my name and crying, struggling in her grip. I think he was trying to get out of it and just fall to his death, because he knew what was coming. He knew. And he didn’t want it. For all his talk about deserving death, he didn’t want to go out like that.”

There was a pause, but Dave was patient and didn’t press, and soon enough his companion continued,

“The last thing I heard him scream was my name—and it wasn’t in anger. He wasn’t angry at me at all…and a part of me wished that he was. Because I’d let him down. But all he did was struggle and scream my name, and I’m pretty sure some of his tears fell and maybe even hit me…and then they all vanished into the sky, flying away.”

“…Did they end the world?”

“Yep. Cleansed the world, and right after they took him from me. All I remember that there was this…explosion from the sky, full of anger, and it was white….” Green Dave stared down at his hands, “There was this…bright white light, and I got knocked unconscious—it was like a flash bang grenade. And I woke up, and wow, what a surprise, seventy-five percent of the Alternian population was just gone, and all the demons on the planet were dead and bloody corpses. The people? The regular humans and trolls? Nah, they were just gone. Vanished.”

“Then why did you get spared?”

“Heh. Good question. We both know we’re no saints…but I think Karkat did it. Maybe it was when they killed him, the power wouldn’t touch me because he…cared. Or maybe he made a deal with that time-bitch and said he’d go quietly if I could live. Either way…well. I’m here. So was everyone else: Rose, John, Jade, Jake and Jane, Dirk and Roxy.”

“…What about Kanaya?”

Here Green Dave shook his head, “Almost everyone. The moment the white light covered the planet, she collapsed at the Temple into Rose’s arms—ironically, she was the only corpse of those killed on the planet by the cleansing. Everyone else just…vanished. Poof. Gone like the dust in the motherfucking wind. Just like Karkat, really.”

Dave gave him a look, “What do you mean by that?”

“What do you think I mean? Karkat just fucking disappeared into the sky. He literally doesn’t exist anymore in my world, Red. Gone. He doesn’t exist in Heaven, he doesn’t exist in the Dream Bubbles that make up lucky sons-of-bitches personal Heavens, he’s just gone. They burned up his body and soul.” Green Dave let out a choked noise, “They didn’t even give me a corpse to bury, those assholes. All that’s left of him are the memories people have of him, and in all honestly, that’s how many people? Eight kids. Eight. Human. Kids. That’s all who remember Karkat Vantas; Kanaya can’t even remember him because she’s dead and probably sobbing in Heaven or Hell or somewhere. Fuck.”

“…I…don’t know what to say.”

“There’s nothing to say, really.” Green Dave sighed, “…So you get it now? Why I was all up in your territory?”

“You were in love with him. You miss him.” Dave didn’t want to say it, but there was no use beating around the bush with a guy who had watched Karkat Vantas be murdered in the clouds.

“No fucking shit, I am in love with him.” The other Strider spat, a wry smile on his face, “I’m not over him, and I ain’t ever going to be over him. And don’t give me that ‘you’re-thirteen-it’ll-pass-with-age’ bullshit, because after…after all of that…how could I not love him? He was a fucking rarity—like one of those songs you hear on the damn radio and you know you just have to hear it over and over again.”

“You got poetic.”

“I got old. I grew up from everything that happened, just like every other Dave, and just like you will. I wasn’t insulting you back there—you’re doing a damn good job—but you still have so much to learn. And just…” He stood, brushing off his green pants, legs twitching, needing to move, “Just seeing him again…seeing him fuming and huffing and puffing…It made me so fucking happy, even if he wasn’t mine…” The human turned towards Beta Dave, a sad smile on his face, “It made me happy because maybe it means there’s one more chance for a Karkat…any Karkat…to finally get some fucking peace in his life…and maybe there’s a chance for you to win…”

“The rest haven’t won…at all?”

“Nope. Ninety-nine dead Karkats.” Green Dave gave a bark of a laugh, as if he was personally addressing and ridiculing God for all the wrongs She had caused unto him and the other Daves, “And a large handful of Dead Daves, too. None of us have been able to succeed. You’re our last hope.”

A snort, “No pressure.”

“Nah” Green Dave rolled his shoulders in a shrug, “It just fucking sucks. I was rooting for Black Dave to maybe go all the way and win, too.”

“…Was he actually black or-“

“Sheesh, no tact. One in the black suit, dipshit.”

Dave blinked, “O-Oh. I saw-“

“Him getting his mack on with Karkat? Yeah, don’t worry, we all saw that. Seems he got to be the lucky exhibitionist of the group.”

“…What happened to him?”

“Pretty tragic story. He got killed by demons first—by some Spider Bitch, beware her—with a sword through the chest. But Karkat didn’t get taken—he killed himself.”

“…What?”

“Yep. Wrestled the blue-demon to the ground, grabbed the same sword that killed Dave, and slit his own throat, and fell into the ocean, drowning and bleeding out. I think Karkat was figuring that if he did, nothing could happen…unfortunately, that didn’t happen. Entire world ended. Boom. It was like he was a ticking-timebomb and that the failsafe method was that if he just ended up dead, well, there went everything. Probably something God or the Signless put it. Maybe about ten-percent of the population left—it included the rest of our gang, though, so that was good. Other Daves lost some of our friends. Blue Dave lost John. Davesprite-“

“Dave-WHAT?”

“You’ll probably meet him eventually. Anyway, he…well. He lost Rose, in a way. No one ever got out scot-free, unfortunately. I don’t expect you to, either. Unless you are the one Dave who can really end all this nonsense and win.”

“Thanks, the hope and belief you have in me is just dripping from your voicebox, dude.” Dave gave the other a look, but Green Dave just laughed,

“Eh. I’m jaded, I’m angry, I’m lonely…but I’d still like to hope that you can do it.”

They went silent for a while, sitting there next to each other; it all made sense to Dave, now. How the other was around Karkat; how he couldn’t let go of his hands and his shoulders…

Because the last part of Karkat Green Dave had touched was his hand…

As he had been dragged away into the sky…

And now, here, seeing him alive again, and well, and still a furious creature, it had made him want to not let go again…

And Dave couldn’t blame him.

Maybe the troll was the safest topic for them to talk about—it was the biggest and most powerful thing they had in common.

“…Were you two…Did you…?”

“Did we do the badonkadonk? The horizontal tango? Yep. Damn.” Green Dave smiled while the other flushed and realized that maybe, just maybe, that hadn’t been the best first question to ask, “He…He was such a dominating little bastard. Could ride you and claw you until the sun came up, and then the next night? Pliant and sweet and just so, so great to make love to-“

“Okay, yeah, this is great and all, but Lil’ Dave is starting to enjoy this a bit too much, can we move on?”

Green Dave just gave him a smirk, and Dave could have sworn he heard a slightly breathy chuckle escape those familiar lips.

“Sure, sure…He was just…great. You guys haven’t done anything yet?”

“…No.”

“Not even a kiss?”

“Nope.”

“Damn. Not surprised, though. Each timeline has been different, but the result is still the same: we fall in love with them. Him. Whatever. And by the end of it…”

“At least one of us is dead.”

“Yep. We actually had our first kiss back on LOHAC. How early is that shit?”

Dave was taken aback by the revelation, “Are you fucking serious? All we did was learn to trust each other again after I nearly got him killed by Terezi.”

“Ah, yeah…” Green Dave looked away awkwardly, “I kind of didn’t trust Terezi.”

Dave deadpanned, “You’re shitting me.”

“…No. Didn’t let her within three feet of him. Eventually, she just gave up and attacked us, realizing I was just putting on a front when it came to being nice to her—I had Karkat with me the entire time I was with her, whenever we talked—and we took her down. She died, actually. It was a bit sad, but she went down in flames, and I think she took it okay. Maybe she knew what was going to happen in the end and figured she’d rather die by our hands than Megido’s. Maybe. I’m just being hopeful.”

Another deadpanned statement, and Dave even took the time to hit the other on the shoulder mildly hard, “I hate you so much right now.”

“Hey! You weren’t the only one that fell for her shit! At least he lived, unlike that other Dave’s. That was a mess. I think he just exiled himself…or he died. I don’t really know.”

“Let’s change the topic. How the hell did you get him to kiss you in LOHAC?”

“Simple. I died.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s so fucking simple in this story.” Dave rolled his eyes behind his shades, but let the other continue.

“No, seriously dude. I died. We didn’t take on Aradia in LOHAC—we took on Damara. Her big Sis. Arch Demon of Betrayal and Perversion. Arch Demon that could warp the time streams. Neither of us had any idea she’d be there, and I still don’t know why she was there. Maybe she got wind first that’d we’d be going through there or some shit; whatever the case, bam, there she was. Went on a rampage, speaking some weird ancient dialect that even Karkat couldn’t comprehend. Zapping up with these needles she had in her hair, freezing time, changing time so we were fighting on shaky ground, a whole lot of shit. I’m surprised LOHAC didn’t burn to the ground. But anyway, she got me good at one point, killed me right through the chest, fell right onto the gear. Karkat, of course, is flipping the fuck out, right? But he doesn’t die—because Aradia shows up in the knick of time, and starts to beat the crap out of her sister. Huge Megido bitchfest and shitfest, definitely. Time bombs flying everywhere, according to the little guy.”

“So…then how did he save you?”

“Kissed me, how else? Figuring he could try and resurrect me due to it—you know those old legends. Kiss your dead lover alive and all that shit. I mean, I guess that was his reasoning. It probably wouldn’t have worked if he didn’t have special blood abilities. I’m guessing yours hasn’t shown anything like that yet?” When Dave nodded, the other continued, “Yeah, it’ll probably take a while. Him resurrecting me was the only indication I received. Granted, maybe it was because of his Dad. Never knew, and I’ll never find out. But I do remember being covered in blood, and that includes my lips, and so was he, so…Regardless, before I know it, I’m waking up in his arms, he tells me Aradia shooed off her sister, and…that we were free to go.”

“You two started up a relationship right then and there?”

“Well,” Green Dave smiled, “It was awkward at first. Guy kissing you back to life isn’t exactly the most…normal way to say ‘wow gee, you’re a cutie, let’s do it’. And I wasn’t exactly sure he’d done it because he liked me, you know? That whole Strider Curse ™ of not being able to ask and talk about your feelings bit me on the ass, so we really didn’t address it to each other for a while.” He sighed, and stretched out his legs, “We got the chance to talk in Skaia.”

“But how-“

“Skaia didn’t get hit by a meteor in my timeline, dude.”

“…”

“You better put that rock down and not brain me. You hear?”

A decent sized rock hit the grass a few seconds later, “…Fine. But how the hell-“

“We got to Skaia, and the MatriChurch was its normal, weird self. We were invited to stay, but Karkat didn’t want to intrude, like the saint he is, and we shacked up in a hotel. It’d been about…what? Two days since Damara attacked? Yeah, two. And we finally talked that night, and I went on about how that it was cool man, no harm done, I didn’t take it personally, figuring it had meant nothing to him—and then the bastard starts crying. Crying! Of all things! And it’s because he blamed himself for getting me killed, and he wanted to give me a way out, of all things.”

“You serious?”

“Yep. He said he cared and didn’t want me to get killed, and actually yelled at me to ‘get the fuck out of the room’ and get out of town and go back to the Capital. So I left the room without a word, and I stood outside the door for a few minutes; I could hear him bitching and crying and I’m pretty sure he broke a nice vase. Because we both know he’d pull a stunt like that.”

“Yup,” Dave snorted, and pulled out two boxes of apple juice out of his sylladex, “I ain’t got much of this left, but you want a box? Seem like you’ve earned it.”

Green Dave took him up on the offer, catching the box with a hand after nodding in assent,

“Thanks, man. Mmn….This is good. Bit warm, but good.”

“Well excuse me for not captchaloging a fucking fridge before the apartment burned down.”

“Don’t worry, I made the mistake too.”

“Mm-mn. Shame.”

“Yep.”

Silence for a moment.

“…Wait, where was I? I can’t remember. This juice, man. It’s a forget-me-a-lot-elixer.”

“Karkat was breaking a vase.”

“Riiight. Okay, yeah, so the moment I hear that break, I’m thinking the dumb little guy is going to cut himself—and I really just don’t want to see him cry anymore—so I slam open the door, and he’s sitting there on the floor, red all down his face, and he gasps out ‘I thought you left’, and I say ‘I forgot something’. And before he can say anything else, I storm over to him, grab him, and kiss him against the wall.”

“I knew we were romantic.”

“Damn right. Who told you we weren’t?”

“Take a guess.”

Both of them snorted in synch, and smiled, because they both knew whom Dave was speaking about.

“And I finished it by telling him ‘that I forgot that’, and I went on about how I wasn’t leaving him for nothing, and that I was grateful for him saving me. And then we talked about feelings.”

“Well, shit, how was that?”

The Other Dave shrugged, “I had to admit I’d liked him since the beginning, but it wasn’t that bad. Considering he kissed me afterwards, wow. Arms around my neck and everything; he may have been Troll Jesus, but he kissed like the Devil, heh…” A soft, reminiscing sight came from the boy’s lips, “Apparently he hadn’t done it just to save me, of course. He gave a shit about me, and because he wasn’t used to feelings like that, he wasn’t sure how to explain what he was feeling. But he eventually told me he was flushed for me, so…It turned out okay in the end. We took it slow; I wanted to, because he was so new at this, and I was too, and the world was ending…But he actually came onto me one night, surprisingly. Maybe he knew he was to die soon, maybe he just figured it was time, but either way…we lit up the night after crossing the Mindfang Sea. Maybe he wanted to give me one last good night with him, I don’t know…but I don’t regret it at all.”

“…When did you know that you loved him?”

“Long before that night, that’s for sure.”

“Did you ever tell him?”

Green Dave stared up at the sky, and in the clear starlight, there was a single group of tears visible and making trails down his cheeks, and even with his shades, it was clear he was seeing in his mind’s eye his Karkat being taken from him all over again.

“…No. I don’t know if it would have been worth anything to him, being a troll and all. But I wanted to. But we both know we suck at words…I just hope he knew it before…before…”

“I’m sure he did man. Really, I bet-“

“Make sure you appreciate him, okay?” Green Dave interrupted his companion’s sympathy, “Just…spend some time with him when you can. Show him your comics, make him laugh…Just…Just appreciate him, okay? Because I don’t know how the hell your story is going to end, and I can’t do shit to warn you about anything coming ahead, because each timeline is different. They made it that way on purpose, so we can’t help each other. But I can warn you about spending time with him, and to make sure he knows you care.”

“…Y-You know I’m not in love with him, right?” Dave gave the other a nervous smile, “A crush is a whole lot different than what you’ve been talking about.”

“I know. And I don’t know if you’ll fall in love with him, but…”

“But the chances are good?”

“I’d say you have a ninety-nine percent chance.” Green Dave gave him a smirk, “Unless you’re that one outlier.”

“I wasn’t an outlier when Aradia talked to me—she said that each time she talked to a Dave in a timeline to get him to hand over Karkat to her, all said no.”

“Exactly. You weren’t an outlier then, so I bet you won’t be one with Karkat.”

Dave twitched, crossing his arms over his chest, huffing, “But you…think we will fall in love, right? Nepeta was going on about that same stuff earlier, blatantly hinting at that we were each other’s soul mates, without actually saying those words. I don’t think Karkat paid attention because he’s Karkat, but I did.”

“Heh. I miss Nep…She’s actually a pretty cool angel once you get to know her. Feisty, and would definitely save you in a pinch. But look, you want honesty? Fine, I’ll be honest. I think that. I honestly think that, because I ain’t stupid—I saw how you looked at him earlier when I was hugging him. You’re a jealous son-of-a-bitch.”

“We’re jealous sons-of-bitches, is what you mean.”

“Exactly.” Green Dave sighed, “But don’t let what I say influence you. You need to figure it out on your own. You need to feel it out on your own.”

“You sound like Rose when she’s writing wizard fanfiction.“ Dave paused his words then, but gasped after a few seconds of nothingness, “Shit, if we survive this, she’ll probably write fanfiction on Karkat and me. Oh God.”

“Shit, man, I don’t need that kind of image.” Green Dave laughed, “…Though. I have my own images to get me through the nights.” He waggled his eyebrows, and Dave let out a groan of despair,

“Oh God, shut up. Shut up, okay, not all of us can score a kiss in Skaia, stop being a bragging little shit.”

“Hey. Don’t think of it like that. Don’t think of it like you’re the only one of us left that’s still a virgin-“

“OH MY GOD!”

Another laugh, and Green Dave was hit with an empty carton of apple juice, “No, seriously, dude, think of it like…you might get a chance for something even better. You might get the happy ending ninety-nine of us didn’t get. Isn’t that something even better?”

“…Yeah. But I’m not that different from all of you. So I don’t know how-“

“Each timeline is different, Red. Maybe you’ll figure something out that is different from ours. Maybe you bleeding and hurting already will give you an advantage later?”

“Or just get us killed faster.” He sighed, “Fine…I guess I’ll play Mister Hopeful, for both of our sakes.”

“For everyone’s sake.”

“You need to really stop reminding me that I’m the last Dave standing, man. It doesn’t do any good for me.”

“I know, but you need to hear it. Besides, think of it like this,” Green Dave stood, brushing his hands off, “We all grew from the experience. I can literally jump time streams and visit other universes with the flick of a wrist. Other Daves can stop time completely, or rewind time. You…I’m sure you’ll get something eventually. You already have the brains and the dashing looks.”

“Yeah, but…they all lost him. You lost him.”

A solemn nod, “But we learned that shit beforehand. I was able to jump before Karkat died, so why can’t you? Or, why won’t you eventually?”

“Look, I don’t know, okay? I don’t know why my powers are slower and don’t work great here. Maybe I’m that leftover Dave that wasn’t even supposed to be born, and my powers are second-class hand-me-downs or something. I don’t even know what I’ll be able to do or when I’ll be able to do it, and Rose didn’t tell me otherwise.”

“…You know…Maybe that’s your ticket to winning. Not having the ability to do anything special. Or barely anything special.”

“What are you saying?” Dave stood, facing the other, “Are you saying that…my own incapability to do anything might just save our asses?”

“I’m saying that you being positively normal may save your ass. You’re an outlier in the category of Time Powers so far, and maybe that is the fact that will keep you alive.”

“That sounds positively stupid.”

“I know, but…why the hell not? The whole thing has been entirely stupid if you ask me.”

“Fuck yes has it been stupid. I have no idea who came up with this nonsense, but it’s just ridiculous.”

“Amen. Though, they say God does have a sick sense of humor.”

“Maybe I’m sick of sick humor.” Dave spat, and then gave a defeatist sigh, “I guess complaining about it isn’t going to change a damn thing, huh?”

“Nope.”

“And you can’t give me any more advice than the shit you’ve already given me?”

“No. I honestly don’t know which enemies you’ll face. I haven’t gone into your timeline that far, and I didn’t want to; partly because I didn’t want to see what would happen, and, well. Spoilers, sweetie.” Green Dave blew him a faux kiss, and Dave returned the gesture with a flip of the bird, “Just do what you’re doing, and keep going. Best I can say. And unfortunately, you’re going to still have the nightmares. It’s a part of your abilities. You’re going to have dream-leakage of the other timelines, and yeah, you ain’t going to sleep well, but you’re going to have to suck it up and roll with it.”

“And with Karkat?”

“…Just…keep him close. Always keep him in your sights, or at least have another person know where he is, like Jake or Dirk. And yes, before you ask, they’ll come with you.”

“W-Wait, how do you know?”

“They always come with a Dave, in each timeline. You always ask Dirk, and they always go together. You guys pretty much form some team right out of a prime-time supernatural show—Free Will and all that shit.”

“…So Jake and Dirk will get back together, then.”

“…Yes and no. It depends on what timeline we’re talking about-“

“We’re talking about mine!”

“I dunno,” The other male gave red-clothed Dave a smirk, “I haven’t seen that far ahead, remember?”

“Asshole.”

“But they have in the other timelines gotten back together, most of them at least, but…they don’t always survive to the end. Which you better hope Jake survives until the end.”

“Why?”

“…Trust me. For Dirk’s sake, just make sure Jake stays alive, too. Striders are possessive of their men, and we both know what can happen when we lose that person.”

“…Yeah. Just looking at you tells me what happens.”

“Yeah…” Green Dave sighed, “But with that, I should be going. Got nothin’ much else to say. Gave you the best advice I could, and, well, you have to run with it. And I really just…wanted to see him, too.”

“You want to say goodbye?”

And as Green Dave started to walk back off in the direction they had come, he snorted,

“What kind of asshole do you think I am? Of course I’m saying goodbye to him…” A pause, “At least this time, I get a chance to.”

He said no more, and disappeared into the brush, leaving Dave behind to catch up to his footsteps; which he did, slowly, the words in his head turning over and over. He knew now that, as much as he wished for better things, that they were more than likely not to come, and maybe it was not worth it for them to come. Things weren’t…horrible right now. They were alive. They were moving along.

Karkat thought he was cute…

Everything was average, okay, and they were hanging in there—and maybe, just maybe, Dave should stop wishing for things to get better. Because things were stable right now, and that was okay…

And it turned out, surprisingly, that the saying was true:

Things aren’t always greener in the other timelines.

Except suits.

Suits were definitely greener in other timelines.

---

They came back to the green edge of the forest, to find Karkat nestled up against the tree and the fire, and his cold stare was the first thing to greet them.

The second thing to greet them was:

“Are you two fuckwads done arguing?”

“Yep.” They replied in synch, and it visibly surprised the troll, if his wide eyes were anything to say; but the simultaneous, smarmy laugh the duo of Striders gave him made him more annoyed—and he was then more himself.

They didn’t waste any time after that; Green Dave spoke up and told the Vantas boy that he had to leave now. Karkat seemed surprised, and maybe even a bit disappointed, if the twitch of his ears was anything to go by, but he didn’t protest at all.

“Fine, then. Good. It’ll give me less of a headache when there are less Striders in my vicinity.”

The two Daves gave each other winks, and pointed their pointer fingers at each other like pistols, both knowing that no more words needed to be said between them.

Between Green Dave and Karkat, though, that was a different story.

Slowly, the other human approached the troll, who gave him an unusual glance of perplexity, but comfort as well.

“…You going to be able to get back okay?”

“Yeah, Kitten, don’t you worry about a damn thing.”

“See, when you say things like that, I do worry, you incompetent gargantuan bean-pole. My God, all of you Striders are insanely and abnormally tall, aren’t you? And bad-dressers and idiot rhymers and--H-HEY!”

Quickly, the other Dave threw his arms around the troll, and pulled him close; close enough to bury his face in the troll’s hair, breathing him in; he didn’t smell like how his own Karkat did—each one seemed to have their own potpourri of scents—but there was a faint hint of familiarity buried underneath the strange. The texture of his hair was still the same, and his horns were still short and stubby, and his body was still too thin and gangly for a healthy weight…

So much the same. But so much different.

And it wasn’t his to touch or take…

But he really couldn’t help himself.

“…Stay safe, Kitten. Okay?”

“…Y-Yeah? Fine, okay.” Karkat was unsure what to do with his hands, just like before, but there was a different air around them now; whereas his Dave had stared at them with confusion and disdain (and jealousy?) when the other had hugged him last, now the Strider in red looked almost…sad. Despondent. Empathetic.

“Be safe, and stick with Red, you got it? He’ll keep you safe…”

“…Okay…”

He wanted to ask.

He wanted to ask where his Karkat was, what had happened to him…

But Karkat was fairly certain he wouldn’t like the answers he would receive (if he received any at all), so he stayed mum.

“…And eat some more. Okay?”

“Okay! God, you’re not my lusus.”

Green Dave laughed, and gave the other a squeeze, milking this for as much as he could before his Time was up.

“Yeah, yeah…but I know you. You haven’t been eating…or sleeping…you’re scared, and-“

“You know, if you’re going to rant on about this, I think I’ll take your sword, open a hole, and throw you back myself.”

“Unf. Still sexy when you want to take control.”

“HEY!”

At that, both Daves couldn’t help but laugh, and the one in the green pulled back to smile at the troll; it was no lie that there were tears falling down his cheeks, because all the wonderful memories of his own were coming back to him; how they had argued constantly, how his life had been saved—twice—by the Vantas boy. Each precious night, each precious moment…

Everything had been stolen from them, but maybe, just maybe, one day God would burn up his own body and soul, and they could be together again.

Maybe this Dave and this Karkat had a bit of a chance.

Maybe any and all Daves and Karkats had a chance.

And without much though, the Dave in green cupped the troll’s cheek, a small sob escaping his lips; he didn’t miss how Karkat looked concerned at his tears (just like how his own had been!), and he could only whisper,

“Hey, hey…I’m okay. But you have to be okay, got it? That’s more important…”

“…I-I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about-“

“It’s okay, really….You don’t have to know. But I’m rooting for you. Got it?”

Karkat nodded slowly, and bit his lip worriedly, “Y-Yeah…I get it, okay? You don’t have to keep saying things over and over, it’s grating and annoying and you’ll lose your voice that way, and though that’d be a blessing I think I’ll be a kind enough person and say I wouldn’t wish that on you.”

“Thanks, Kitten…” He just shook his head, “Thanks…”

And before any of them knew what was going on, Green Dave leaned down, lips touching Karkat’s skin, and he kissed his cheek sweetly, longingly; no one missed the little ‘MEEP’ that Karkat let out, his skin bristling and his face heating up like a furnace.

But Dave didn’t stop it—he was jealous, but not heartless, and he couldn’t deny that he wouldn’t have done the same thing.

Because it wasn’t a kiss that was proclaiming love.

It was a kiss goodbye.

Wetness trailed down Green Dave’s cheeks, and a few drops fell onto Karkat’s skin; but as quick as the kiss had come, it left that fast, despite the other Dave trying to keep his lips on the troll’s skin as long as he could.

“…Bye, Kitten. Be good.”

He had jokingly said that to his own Karkat the morning he was to die—‘be good’. He had also said ‘be safe’ and ‘don’t get yourself hurt’.

He should have said ‘I love you’.

“…I-I will…”

His voice was stuttering, and Karkat didn’t know why; he also didn’t know why this Green Dave was smiling through his sadness.

But he knew that he himself was outstretching a hand to him in his confusion, as if to grab him, shake him, and explain himself; but the human jumped back from him, while his right hand was reaching for his katana…

And his left was outstretched towards Karkat of its own volition.

It would be a lie to say that he wasn’t recalling how his own companion had been taken from him.

It would be a lie to say that their hands weren’t mimicking how they had been on the day of the Other Karkat’s death.

Quickly, without breaking eye-contact with the troll, he slashed the air behind him; a wide, bloody crack opened up in the air, while wind whistled through. Seconds later, the other Dave vanished into the hole with a smirk on his face, and even through the shades, it was clear that he had winked at Karkat just before he vanished, and seconds later, the hole evaporated into a showering of red dust, dust that in itself vanished seconds later.

There was silence in the wilderness around them for some time; neither of them spoke, but mainly because Karkat was struck silent by the other boy leaving, and was staring at where the portal had once been.

“…You okay?” Dave couldn’t stand the quiet too long and eventually came to the other’s side and rested a hand on the troll’s upper back.

“Is he going to be okay?” Karkat looked sympathetic and stricken; and though it was a nice look (nicer than his volatile anger), it wasn’t that nice.

“Yeah. He isn’t happy right now…but I think eventually he’ll be okay.”

The troll looked down at the ground, hands wringing in nervousness and apprehension.

“…Heh…Yeah…I mean, fuck, what’s…what’s his deal? He’s a sexual violator! Y-You saw that kiss, right? Right? I mean, he…the jerk, just…coming up to me like that, and…”

It was as if he knew what had happened—and maybe Karkat did.

Maybe a part of his heart could just tell…could just see…that there was something missing from that Dave’s life.

After all, if Karkat had still been with him, why hadn’t he come through the portal, too?

Why had he so blatantly flirted with this Karkat and not…not his own?

“…That…That asshole….” Karkat looked away, rubbing at his eyes viciously, and Dave didn’t stop him; instead, he calmly rested his hands on the troll’s shoulders, gently rubbing the muscles underneath.

“Hey…S’alright, man. Trust me, don’t worry about it. You’ve got enough on your mind.”

“…Yeah…Guess there’s no point in it now that he isn’t here.” A sigh, and Karkat glanced behind him at the human above him, “…Are you okay?”

“Mmn…” Dave hummed, and then leaned in closer, his arms falling forward, to where his fingers could touch Karkat’s chest if he wished, and he bumped his chin against the troll’s left cheek, “I’d be better if you gave me a kiss. Do you honestly think that shit back there was fair, man? Letting a strange Dave kiss you, I’m offended. That’s treading in harlot territory, Kitten.”

“He kissed me, you asshole. And last time I checked, you seemed really fucking okay with it back there. You just stood there and let it happen!”

“A gentle-knight never interrupts a genuine kiss, ‘cause that’d be un-chivalrous. But that doesn’t mean I can’t ask for one now, yeah?” Dave gave the other an eyebrow waggle and a nudge, “C’mon, Kitten, how about it?”

“If I ever, ever, end up kissing you, I pray that God will grant me the serenity and peace that I will need in order to rip into your ass-“

“Oh, sweetheart, yes-“

“With a razorblade and a switchblade and every other kind of blade, so I can get at your vital organs-“

“My organ is pretty vital-“

“And then sell them to everyone back in Neon.”

“I don’t think those carapaces need a dick, but okay.”

“…”

“…What?”

“…Why am I stuck with you again?” Karkat shook his head as he stared up at the human, “Tell me that. Why?”

“Because I’m your soul-mate and we’re going to have hot troll-human hybrid babies. C’mon, let’s get you naked and knocked up.”

“Or I could give you a fifteen head start before I hit you over the head with a boulder. AND YOU’RE NOT MY SOUL-MATE! I don’t HAVE a soul mate!”

“Mmhm. Hey, you know what we should do?”

“God, you have the attention-span of a gnat. But okay, I’ll humor you. I think what we should do is either jump off a cliff and end our lives or throw you into a tank of man-eating-fish-beasts. How do either of those sound?”

“…I was going to say read my comics, but okay. We can do those horribly gruesome things, why not.” Dave gave the other a slicked-up smile as he meandered over to a tree, plopping down gracefully.

“…Comics? What fucking comics?”

“Mine, dude. I’m the Picasso of the comic world, haven’t you heard?”

“…Gosh, I don’t know why I haven’t heard that,” Karkat feigned surprised as he took a spot next to the Strider, “Maybe because it’s a BALL-FACED LIE?”

“Psh. Haters gonna hate. You a hater?”

“Of you? Yes.”

“Hmph. You’re just judging before seein’, babe. Which is wrong. No one should ever judge the Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff before seeing it.” Dave pulled out his sylladex, and after a moment of shuffling, he unveiled a small, digital pad, along with a sketchbook, both items plopping onto the grass.

“Now, I usually draw this stuff on the computer, but I obviously couldn’t bring my desktop with me. So I brought the next best thing—the drawing pad I make my comics on, and I was able to tweak it so I could save my files on it. And hey, sketchbook for rough shit doesn’t hurt either.”

“…Okay…” Karkat leaned in closer as Dave revved up the device, bringing up his comics to full-view. “…My God, what is this shit?”

“Comedy gold, my friend.”

Karkat’s face read over the words, the image of the man in blue and the man in red, and his expression morphed from priceless incredulity to even more priceless awe, disgust, and perplexity—it was an interesting soup of emotions.

“…What the fuck am I reading, Strider?”

Dave brushed his finger over the tablet, bringing up another image, another comic,

“My livelihood man, give it some credit. Come on, just read it. It’s good shit, honest.”

Karkat was about to spout another retort, and maybe even overturn that stupid tablet with those stupid words and stupid drawings that looked like they hadn’t even been drawn in Troll Microsoft Paint, when he noticed Dave’s face; beneath those blank, hidden eyes and the nothingness that existed in his lips at that moment, there was an aura of pride and a sense of accomplishment. He was trying to hide it so well, which was why he wasn’t smiling or exclaiming like others would be about their creations. His tone was dulcet but cold, his body stiff with tension.

He was proud of this crap, and he wanted Karkat to like it.

The troll had no idea why—even more so, why would it matter that he liked this crap—Dave wanted that. Was it because of Green Dave’s prior attention? Was it because they had talked (And what had they talked about, anyway?)?

“…Fine, fine.” Karkat huffed a tired sigh, and scooted closer to the human, nestling against his right side, “I’ll read your shitty comics. Will that please you?”

Dave’s lips twitched into a near smile, “Well, it’d be one thing that’d please me, sure.”

They were just crudely-drawn, stupid comics.

And yet they were something that, oddly enough, meant the world to Dave.

In all honesty, they meant so much to him because they were of him—things drawn by his own hands that neither Dirk nor Bro had ever had a hand in. Dirk had his robots, Bro had had his smuppets—and Dave created comics. It was one of the two things he felt he was able to make from his bare hands—that and music.

And with the world ending, there really wasn’t a lot left in the line of creations, now was there? Nor was there time to create, time to relax, time to imagine…

So the troll sighed and settled close to the other, reading over his shoulder; but Dave would have none of that, and he smoothly moved his arm around Karkat, pulling him closer, his lanky, red-clothed arm over the troll’s shoulders while he pushed the table in the middle, between the two of them. He hesitated, though, and glanced at the other to see if the motion was welcome—while Karkat just gave him a blank, perturbed glance.

“…What?”

“Nothin’. You good?”

The troll shrugged, and got comfortable, “It’s fine. Besides, even if I tell you to let me go, you’d probably just keep doing it.”

“Nah, man, I’m not a violator.” Dave smirked, and the other just snorted at it, stating,

“Sure you’re not. Now do you want me to read your shit or not?”

Truth be told, Karkat really didn’t mind the arm around his shoulders; it was warm, and felt like an extra shield around his person, and besides, friends did that to each other, right? Put their arms around one another…right?

Sure, they did that in romance movies, likes those ones Kanaya would smuggle into the MatriChurch for him to watch, but friends did it too, right?

And friends let you rest your head on their shoulders, right…? Because Dave certainly didn’t have a problem with it right now.

It was all really, really stupid, actually…The comics, the fact that he was reading them, the fact that he was this close to an annoying asshole of a human...

But Karkat really didn’t have the heart or energy or will to move.

So they spent the night wide-eyed and awake, reading panel after panel, Dave taking the time to explain jokes Karkat’s trollian heritage didn’t comprehend; nine times out of ten, the Vantas boy just snorted or exclaimed his dislike and distaste for the ‘obnoxious entities that were burning his visual orbs’.

But one time out of ten, Dave nearly caught the other secretly laughing—laughing, or giggling, or chuckling—at the comics, trying to do his best to hide them behind a hand or behind a glare.

But he always failed. There was always at least one melodic note of happiness coming from Karkat at a joke he got or found positively acceptable.

And hey, one time out of however many was more than good enough for Dave.

Once in a blue moon, they drifted off to sleep, but woke up soon enough after and continued reading and talking; neither really wanted to sleep and experience nightmares all over again—life alone was enough of a nightmare for them, so why should they experience more?

This wasn’t a magical world where they could go to sleep and wake up somewhere else—yet.

And besides, each other’s company was a lot more of a pleasant experience. They talked without fighting, playfully slapped one another without bruising, and even Dave’s blatant flirtations weren’t painfully shut down each time; they spent an hour with the sketchbook, doodling and arguing what to make the two comic characters do and say, and, well, let’s just say a few penises were accidentally drawn on one page.

But Dave sure as hell wasn’t going to throw that page away, of course.

They were tangled up in each other’s lives, and each other’s arms and each other’s nightmares.

But that didn’t mean they shouldn’t be tangled up in the good things, either.

Just like how when the night turned cold, Dave tangled them up in his cape as a blanket, the red fabric mostly assisting Karkat, and not his own human body. But that was alright—sometimes sacrifices were worth it, and gave way to even greater, simpler rewards, such as Karkat’s gentle purr of contentment.

In the end, though, once the sun was rising, Karkat turned to find that Dave had drifted off once again, and he sighed; they had spent nearly seven hours awake, talking, chatting, being next to each other, not including those infrequent moments of sleep.

And now, after being watched over by Dave for so many nights already, he let the human rest while he stared down at the tablet in his hands, that he gently put aside after a moment.

“…Thanks.”

He wasn’t sure what he was thanking the Strider teen for—for comfort, for friendship, for actually being there…

Oh God, at this rate, he would start pitying Dave, and he couldn’t afford that…

“…Fuck…”

Karkat sighed heavily, and brushed the human’s bangs back from his forehead, and moved his cape so it wrapped around the Knight’s body as a makeshift blanket. He was perfectly content to stay up for the rest of the early morning hours; sleep was highly unneeded, because it just meant more nightmares—of dead Daves and of dead Karkats.

But the troll settled in close, because a warm body was a warm body, and a friend was a friend, and he felt no energy in his weary bones to move away from Dave; and it was easier to snuggle against the other when he was asleep and not awake to make perverted jokes and biting remarks.

“…Shit…”

His claws dug into the fabric of the Knightly clothes, and he buried his gray face in Dave’s shoulder, hoping to stifle the whimper that escaped his lips.

This wasn’t going to happen.

It couldn’t.

Any pity, any compassion, it had to be tempered and tucked away…

Because Karkat sure as hell couldn’t bring Dave down with him just because of his own feelings.

Karkat had sworn to himself that whatever happened, he would keep any and all quadrant ideas to himself—sure, Gamzee as a moirail was one thing, because who else was going to look after that stupid demon, and said demon might be useful in the long-run, but black or red or ashen?

Nope, nope, nope, definitely not.

Granted, Dave only had footprints in the first two, but that was still two too many…

“…Shit, shit…”

But after that performance and visitation from the other Dave…

And seeing how his own—his own?! Since when had this shit become possessive!?—had behaved and was right now…and how he even smiled in his sleep, like he was imagining something happy instead of something dreadful…

It made Karkat’s bloodpusher ache with something powerful…

“…Shit, this wasn’t supposed to happen…”

He gently moved his hands to cradle the other’s face, and Dave only hummed in contentment, and Karkat found himself whining in despair and confusion…

“…What’s wrong with me?”

Stupidly, he gently bumped his forehead against the other’s and proceeded to twine his arms around Dave’s neck, settling in close once more, while doing his best to hide any and all tears that were escaping.

Because he couldn’t do this to Dave—let alone himself, but especially to Dave.

There was no point in blatant hate-flirting or flush-flirting when you were just a dead man in the end.

Hell, there was barely any point in friendship outside of quadrants when you were a dead man walking.

But Karkat needed Dave as a friend—as a ‘bro’ or whatever the hell that meant. Because that was one of the few things he had left in the world, and he was actually being selfish and wanting it…

Even if he didn’t deserve it.

It was just one of the million things he was sure he didn’t deserve; just like how he didn’t deserve Dave to wrap his arms around him unconsciously and pull him close, and bump his own head against Karkat’s, like how he did now.

He didn’t deserve second chances or even a first chance. The idea that he deserved any chances had never existed in his heart, and he was never sure why.

It just seemed like something for someone else…

But stupidly, he wanted it; he wanted Dave’s arms around him, his happy voice in his ear, his smirk, his powerful ego that could knock down walls and tear down buildings and hearts at the same time.

But no one ever told him wants and deserved things would ever be the same things…

No one ever told him that it was okay to want things…to need things…

No one ever told him it was wrong to feel that needing things was a burden on others (because that was something that could not happen, whatsoever—burdens were a no-no, forever and always).

But in the silence of this green area, amongst these few trees and the hills with the rising sun, he felt it was okay to want—just for a little while.

He felt it was okay to sadly smile into Dave’s shoulders and cling onto him for dear life.

Besides, no one but God would know.

And last time Karkat checked, he wasn’t really on speaking terms with God…

But if he was, he could only pray that God would have pity on him, and not let him pity Dave as red as a tomato. He could only pray that nothing was flushing…

Even though he was pretty sure God stopped listening to his prayers a long, long time ago.

---

“My Lady. We’re going at the exact velocity and speed needed to reach the city of Xen within a handful of days.”

Shark-like teeth chewed bubblegum as the red, mechanic-esque creature—the Drone—spoke, and a gray face broke out into a smile.

“Are you shore, bub?”

“Positive, madam,” The voice was robotic, and grating on the ears; it was an older Drone that had been dug up in the ruins of The Condesce’s palace; the others, though…the fighting ones? The ones that were programmed to kill? The massive army of over one-hundred thousand, that were spread out in the rest of the flagships that were as red as blood?

They were very, very young and spry. And ready to kill.

“Ex—cellent!” The young troll female swung around in her red chair; she was seated in the cockpit of her airship, high in the atmosphere, clouds billowing past them at rapid speed, “Rally the boys, bub. I plan to let the whole world know that War is here.”

Gracefully, in her gray pants and black and pink tee-shirt, she stood, and Meenah Peixes, with her trailing dark braids, white eyes, and pink glasses, walked over to her hanging trident, where gray fingers gracefully caressed the gold.

It had belonged to her mother.

And now it was hers.

“Very well, Madam. My second message for you is that a Mister Doc Scratch is on the communications line. He wishes to speak with you.”

Meenah snarled and huffed, “That old blowhard is just mad ‘cause I’m going to the party early. He’s a shellfish little white-headed clam that doesn’t want me to have any fun!”

“F-From what I gathered, My Lady, he more just wants you to be careful…”

“Look, I ain’t gonna wait forever. We gotta make our moves now! Four Horsemen and all that shit, bub. He’s just pissed that he’s Pestilence and isn’t gonna have as much fun as the rest of us, hmph.”

“But…My Lady War…Perhaps it would be better until we could reconvene with him, or perhaps Famine…A-And-“

“Did I ask for your advice…Drone?” Meenah snarled out, hands grabbing her three-pronged, double-headed trident, “You’re my servant. It ain’t the other way around.”

“M-My Lady, of course, I am just wishing for you to be safe-“

“SHUT UP!” The sea-breathing troll screamed, and she flung her weapon at the mechanical machination before her; the golden points struck the Drone, and instantly it sparked and oil spurted out of the three holes, the points coming out on the other side of the entity. The robot fell with a hollow wail to the ground, the entire warship shaking from the crash.

Meenah sighed, and strolled over towards the fallen creature; with a few grunts, she removed her trident and began speaking to herself.

“Sad. You just can’t build obedient robots these days…They all become fucking sentient and think they’re your big daddy. Whale that ain’t right.” She shook her head and kicked the creature’s red and white head, “Guess I’m gonna have to get a new head-honcho. Oh well!” With a little cackle, she strode back over towards her high chair at the head of the ship, flicked a few buttons, and after a moment of whizzing and whirling, another Imperial Drone had been built—and appeared before her from the basement below, rising on a platform .

“Yo. You’re my new personal guard, ya hear? I don’t want no fishy business, so you’re gonna listen to me, and don’t give me back-sass. Or you’ll end up like your predecessor, got it?”

The Drone was silent, but nodded as its gears came to life, and it eventually stomped away out into the hall, dragging out the dead Drone behind it.

“…Perfect.” She was like a shark as she smiled and caressed her trident; and in many ways, the (Sea)Horseman of War was a shark on the prowl for bloodshed—bloodshed that she herself brought.

“Now, let’s make Momma proud, yeah?” She was half talking to herself, and half talking to her trident; and as her gray hands touched the golden weapon, it was as if the Condesce was reborn—it was like there was a glitch in the system, and flashes of the old Batter Witch were visible; instead of two floor-length braids, there was a bush of midnight hair instead. Instead of two small pointy horns, they were gigantic and terrifying.

“Yeah…Let’s make Momma proud…” But even if the image was one that changed off and on, temporarily, it was still Meenah in the end.

It was still War.

And as she placed upon her finger a powerful golden ring with red edging, the Ring of Miles from legend and lore, she smiled to herself as the clouds passed by.

She had been waiting hundreds of years for the great return of the Peixes Empire. She had been created from her mother’s genetic material and hidden away in a dream bubble just for this purpose.

The purpose of bringing War to the end of the world.

And oh, was she about to bring War to the end of the world.

And all of society was about to ‘sea’ the truth:

War, even after hundreds of years of waiting and being dormant, never changed.