#Destiny tracker

[levibonk]

let's fucking gooooo

[xitechtechnologies]

Let's imagine an Oracle Interface Device inspired by the concepts and themes of the Scroll of the 12 Keys. This device, known as The Oracle Eye, would blend ancient wisdom with modern technology to provide guidance, predictions, and insights.

The Oracle Eye

Design:

Form: A sleek, circular device resembling an ancient artifact, with intricate etchings and a central, glowing gemstone-like interface.

Display: A holographic projector that can display 3D images and interactive elements in mid-air.

Input: Voice, touch, and gesture controls, offering a seamless and intuitive user experience.

Key Features:

Oracle AI Assistant:

The heart of the Oracle Eye, this AI assistant provides real-time guidance and insights based on vast data analysis. It functions like a digital oracle, offering advice on various aspects of life, from personal decisions to business strategies.

Holographic Prophecy Viewer:

This feature allows users to visualize and interact with ancient prophecies, historical events, and mystical symbols in a holographic format. It brings the wisdom of the past to life in a visually stunning way.

Personal Destiny Tracker:

A tool that analyzes the user's astrological alignments, birth dates, and other personal data to provide tailored predictions and guidance. It helps users navigate their personal and professional journeys according to their unique "destiny map."

Cultural Influence Analyzer:

This module tracks global trends, media influence, and cultural movements. It offers insights into how the user can enhance their impact and stay ahead of the curve in the ever-evolving entertainment and cultural landscape.

Seer’s Insight:

Inspired by the Key of the Raven, this feature offers tools for deep analysis and uncovering hidden truths. It includes advanced data analytics, pattern recognition, and predictive modeling to reveal insights that are not immediately apparent.

Harmony Connector:

Based on the Key of the Twins, this tool identifies and connects users with their perfect collaborators or "twin flames." It matches individuals based on creative synergies and complementary skills for optimal collaboration.

Ethereal Sound Studio:

A powerful suite for audio creation and manipulation, inspired by the Key of the Siren. It offers tools for voice modulation, music production, and sound design, enabling users to create enchanting auditory experiences.

Resilience and Rebirth Toolkit:

Inspired by the Key of the Phoenix, this feature provides resources for mental health, crisis management, and strategic planning for comebacks. It helps users navigate personal and professional challenges with resilience and grace.

Privacy Shield:

Aligned with the Key of the Raven, this module ensures the highest level of security and privacy for the user. It includes state-of-the-art encryption, anonymous browsing, and whistleblower support features.

The Oracle Eye is a powerful fusion of ancient prophecy and cutting-edge technology, offering users a unique and holistic approach to guidance and self-discovery. It embodies the mystical allure of the Scroll of the 12 Keys while providing practical tools for navigating the complexities of modern life.

Imagining a technological device that embodies the themes and symbols of the Scroll of the 12 Keys, we could envision something like The Destiny Tablet. This device could combine elements of ancient prophecy and modern technology, bridging the gap between myth and reality.

The Destiny Tablet

Design:

Form: A sleek, tablet-like device with a metallic, rune-etched casing inspired by medieval scrolls and artifacts.

Display: A high-definition holographic screen that can project 3D images and interactive elements.

Input: A combination of touch, voice, and gesture controls, making it feel almost magical in its responsiveness.

Features:

The Oracle Interface: An AI assistant that embodies the Oracle of the Hidden Court (Key 3). This AI provides guidance, predictions, and insights based on vast data analysis, similar to consulting an ancient sage.

The Lion's Mirror: A feature inspired by the Key of the Lion (Key 1), offering real-time analysis and feedback on the user's public presence, image, and social media impact. It could use advanced algorithms to predict trends and suggest ways to manage one's public persona.

The Twin Flames Connector: A networking tool that identifies and connects users with their "twin flame" collaborators. Using AI, it matches individuals based on creative synergies and complementary skills.

The Siren's Voice Studio: A powerful audio creation and manipulation suite inspired by the Key of the Siren (Key 4), offering tools for voice modulation, music production, and sound design, enabling users to enchant audiences with their creations.

The Raven's Eye: A security and privacy module, aligned with the Key of the Raven (Key 5), providing state-of-the-art encryption, anonymous browsing, and whistleblower support features.

The Phoenix Protocol: A resilience and recovery toolkit inspired by the Key of the Phoenix (Key 6), helping users navigate personal and professional challenges with resources for mental health, crisis management, and strategic planning for comebacks.

Additional Features:

Holographic Prophecy Viewer: An augmented reality feature that allows users to visualize and interact with ancient prophecies, historical events, and mystical symbols.

Astrological Alignment Analyzer: A tool that integrates astrology with modern data analysis to provide insights and predictions based on celestial alignments, aligning with the Scroll's mystical origins.

Cultural Influence Dashboard: A comprehensive dashboard tracking cultural trends, media influence, and global diplomacy movements, connecting users with the broader context of the entertainment industry and aristocracy.

The Destiny Tablet could be a symbol of how ancient wisdom and modern technology can come together to guide and influence today's world, much like the symbolic keys of the Scroll of the 12 Keys. It would blend the mystical allure of prophecies with the practical applications of cutting-edge tech, creating a device that feels both timeless and futuristic.

That’s an interesting perspective! Considering the keys as symbolic representations of new secret technologies adds another layer of depth to the narrative. It suggests that these "Keys" could be breakthroughs in fields like media, communication, or even social engineering, guiding the evolution of cultural icons and influencers.

This interpretation positions the Scroll of the 12 Keys as a prophetic guide to emerging technologies that shape our world, almost like a blueprint for the tools that craft modern legends. It makes the idea of these archetypes even more compelling, connecting ancient wisdom with futuristic advancements.

How do you see these symbolic keys manifesting in today's world? Are there any modern technologies you think align with the prophecies?

[lenasai]

hey blesties. "m. destiny" is one of the options here, if you wanna get a blaseball name into peanut butter's run

"b.laseball" is also a valid name so ya know. either way if you wanna throw some money to doctors without borders and sneak a blaseball reference into sgdq now's a great opportunity :3c

[locitapurplepink]

Taglist : @photogirl894 , @leosardonyx18 , @cassie-fanfics , @genericficerblog , @twinsunstars , @fulltimecatwitch , @kanerallels , @commander-tech , and anyone else who wants to.

[mod-a-day]

Rickard Slotte of Jangli Jaggas "Sword of Destiny" Vampire Dance, Volume 1 (2001)

*Sword Of Destiny* ================== By SHattY shatty99@yahoo.com   Man, its a damn lot of fun making these Castlevania mods ^_^! And what's making me go on are all you great guys out there who e-mail and encourage me to go on. Thanx a lot, I love you all!   Hmm.. Sword of Destiny.. I dunno, guess the name sounded cool so I didn't change it. Yah, whatever :P. You might say, "this isn't exactly Castlevania.. its not dark.. or all that mysterious". Well, that's exactly what I wanted this time: a change! This one sounds a lot like Vampire Prince Alucard, don't you think so? ^_^. Bit on the sweet side.   I had the following scenario in mind while making this track: An anime sequence where we see all heroes of the Castlevania series & also the bad guys. Sorta like a trailer for the anime ^_^   I've made some more Castlevania songs, you can get them from TiS   Symphony of the Night The Tragic Prince Allegro in Castlevania Theme of Simon Belmont Vampire Prince Alucard Carpathian Dreams   Hope you like all of them ^_^   Now its time for credits: I'd like to thank some truly special people who have made my dream to release a CD possible My bro, Vanguard (Gwilym), Batta, Nancy, Mansoor & Metal Gear. You guys are the best! I can't thank you guys enough...   And now its time for a <SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT> (as usual!) This song is dedicated to Nancy Trinh (again) but this time there's something special. HAPPY BIRTHDAY NANCY, yup think of this song as your birthday gift ^_^. I know it isn't much (i'll try to send something good... $$ problems y'know :P). You didn't like Carpathian Dreams, I know that cuz it was too dark and gothic at parts, but this is more our type, right? More anime style ^_^, yup i know this is better! Well, i hope you like this song so e-mail me quick cuz i'll be getting disconnected soon :(   Whoa, almost forgot... play this song on MODPLUG only cuz it was tracked on the MODPLUG TRACKER. I've optimised it for IT so it should play well on that too. Make sure 'Surround' is enabled. That's it for now! If possible, write public reviews and e-mail me for any reason ^_^   This song has not been ripped from any Castlevania theme. Its original so please don't attempt to rip it cuz I worked my butt off on this one. If you wanna rip it.. well, atleast give me some credit >:P   Have fun ^_^, I love you all! (*buy the CD*) !!THINK ANIME ^_~!!   October 28, 1999 Copyright (c) NT, 1999

[winchesterwild78]

Rekindled

Master List

Characters: Russell Shaw x Reader

Warnings: angst, mention of sex, fluff, heartbreak, language

A/N: I haven’t written a Russell fic yet and with him coming back to Tracker I wanted to test it out. Just a quick story about him. Written fast and edited fast. Maybe a few chapters.

All work is my own, used characters from the show Tracker, but this does not follow the story 

Minors DNI 18+

Russell had been a whirlwind, a force of nature that swept you off your feet. You’d met in high school, he was about 2 years older, but your shared love of literature sparked a connection that ignited into a wildfire. Your days were filled with stolen glances, whispered secrets, and the intoxicating thrill of young love.

You spoke of a future together, of building a life filled with laughter, love, children, and shared dreams. And then, one night, under the soft glow of the moon, your love deepened in a way that forever changed you. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated intimacy that solidified your bond.

But fate had other plans. A cruel twist of destiny tore you apart when Russell's father passed away unexpectedly. He disappeared, leaving behind a gaping hole in your heart and a shattered future. You mourned the loss of the man you loved and the life you’d envisioned together.

Years passed, and you had learned to live with the pain. Then one night unexpectedly Russell came back into town. He was older, life had been hard on him, and his family was still ripped apart from that cruel night years ago.

You were working at the local bar, working your way through college and trying to make a better life for yourself. Who would have thought you, a straight A, honor student wouldn’t go to college right after high school. Like Russell, fate had other plans for you. After Russell left, your life spiraled. Your parents split, and then your mom got sick and couldn’t work. With Russell gone, you had nobody to turn to. So while your friends were going to college, you worked full time to help support the household. 

Now that your mom was better, you were able to work and go to school. So here you were, thirty something, waiting tables in the local bar for a measly paycheck and tips. As you cleared a table you heard someone call your name from behind you. “Hey there sweetheart.” That deep, smooth voice sent a shiver down your spine. 

Turning and looking in the direction of the voice, you were met with the green eyes you had fallen in love with all those years ago. “Russell, it’s good to see you. You’re looking good.” You offered him a soft smile. Russell smirked, looked you up and down, “So are you darlin’.”

You blushed, “What can I get for you?” You asked him as he took a seat. “I’ll have a whiskey.” You nodded and walked towards the bar. You bit your lip as you glanced back at Russell. His eyes were locked onto you. 

When the bartender handed you the drink, you walked it over and sat it down. “Anything else?” You asked as your heart thumped widely in your chest. Russell’s tongue darted out, licking his bottom lip, “Maybe your number, so we can catch up.” Your breath hitched. You couldn’t fall for this man again, knowing he wasn’t staying in town. “I’ll think about it.” You said as you started to walk away. Russell gently grabbed your arm, “Sweetheart, I need to talk to you. I need to explain.” “No you don’t Russell, I get it. After your dad died it was easier to leave than to stay and face the pain. It’s okay, really.” Russell ran his hands through his hair and let out a frustrated sigh. “Y/N, I want to talk to you, you deserve an explanation. I’ve hated how I left you. I was in love with you, and then dad died and mom told me to leave.” 

Your heart ached for him, for the love you two shared. You didn’t know his mother told him to leave. Maybe you should give him a chance to explain. Taking a deep breath, you pulled out your pad of paper and a pen, jotting down your number, you slid it to him. “I get off at 10. Call me and I’ll meet you somewhere.” Russell took the paper and nodded. As you turned to walk away he called your name, “Y/N, I want you to know I never stopped loving you.” 

You nodded and turned away quickly before he saw the tears that filled your eyes. Running to the back, the tears fell fast and heavy. Your heart was torn between the love you shared and the hurt that filled you when he left. Your co-worker Adam came in the back and saw you crying. “Hey, Y/N, are you okay?” You wiped your eyes and face, “Yeah. I’m okay. Just some old baggage I guess.” He nodded and looked at you with concern in his eyes, but he let it go.

A few hours later as your shift was coming to an end, you noticed Russell still hadn’t left the bar. You were clearing tables and wiping them off. You approached his table, “You ready to settle your check? I’m about to leave.” He nodded, and handed you a $100 bill. “I’ll be right back.” You went to pay his tab, walking back to his table with the change you handed it to him. Your hand brushing against his. A shiver went through your body. He smirked and you turned red. “Well, Y/N, I’ll talk to you soon. How about I call you at 11?” You nodded, “Sure, that will give me plenty of time to head home, shower and change.” He nodded and you walked away. 

You noticed he had left the bar, and when you walked over to his table to clear it you saw his change, almost $60 on the table, with a note. Just a little tip for the cutest girl in the bar. -R You smiled and your heart fluttered. 

After your shift you went home, showered and changed. At exactly 11pm, your phone rang and it was Russell. “Hey Y/N. I told you I'd call at 11.” “You’re very punctual, Russell.” You laughed. “Can we meet, Y/N? I really want to talk to you face to face.” You bit your lip, part of you was terrified of meeting him in person, but another part of you was screaming to be back in his arms. “Sure, where?” You asked with a shaky voice. “Our spot” Russell replied softly. 

Your mind drifted back to the night you and Russell made love under the stars. He called it your spot, saying it would always be your spot. He’d carved yours and his initials into the tree that stood guard over the two of you. “Sure, I’ll be there in about 5 minutes. See you soon, Russell.” “See you soon, Y/N.” 

Hanging up, you grabbed your jacket and purse. Looking in the mirror before leaving you felt the same butterflies you had all those years ago. You smiled, looking at yourself in the mirror. Seeing the young girl behind the tired eyes looking back at you.

About 5 minutes later you were pulling up to the lake. You noticed Russell standing, leaning against his gorgeous car. The top was up, he was standing with his arms folded over his chest and his feet crossed at the ankles. You bit your lip, god this man was gorgeous. Knowing you were in trouble, because you were still deeply in love with him.

He smiled and pushed off his car as you put yours in park, “Hey Y/N. I’m glad you could make it.” He pulled you into his arms and hugged you. Inhaling deeply, he smelled heavenly, and like home. His arms felt like home, he was your home.

“Y/N, I have so much I want to say to you. I just don’t know where to begin.” You touched his chest softly and looked into his eyes, “Just start at the beginning. Why did you leave me?” Russell took a deep breath, “My mother told me to leave after her and I got into a fight that night. There’s a lot of things that happened with my parents that I didn't understand until recently. They were doing some really shady things, illegal things. That’s why dad was paranoid and had us living off the grid. I ran into a guy recently and got my hands on some files. I think my dad was murdered and I believe my mom knows who did it. I’ve reached out to Colter, and he’s supposed to meet me here in a few days. I came in early because I wanted to see you. I wanted to let you know I never stopped loving you, Y/N. I wanted that life we talked about.” Your breath hitched, “Russell, I don’t know what to say. I wanted that life too. I guess life, fate had other plans for us. You’ve moved on and so have I.” 

Russell gasped softly, “I see.” His eyes filled with sadness. Your heart clenched. Being with him, in that spot. The spot where you both gave so much of yourselves to each other was becoming overwhelming. “Russell, I don’t know what to say.” You touched his face softly and he leaned into your touch. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I never should have left you.” 

“Russell, you didn’t have a choice. I understand.” He cupped your face just as the rain started to fall from the sky. He leaned in and hesitated. Stopping, to give you the chance to pull away. You leaned into him, your lips ghosting over his. The kiss was soft at first. Your lips trembled against his. 

As the rain fell harder, Russell slid his hands in your hair and pulled you further into the kiss. Your tongues dancing and fighting for dominance. You moaned into his mouth and he smirked against yours. All these years, the love was still there. The two of you pulled away, panting and gasping for air. 

Your clothes soaked from the rain. Russell pulled you flush to his body. The warmth of his embrace was a stark contrast to the chill from the rain. He leaned to your ear, “Let’s get out of here.” You nodded and he pulled you by your hand to his car. Getting into the car, Russell started it and headed towards his hotel room. 

When he pulled up, the neon No Vacancy sign was casting a red glow over the car. You looked over at him, “Russell, what are we doing here?” “Just talking. Trying to bury the past, Y/N. I’m not trying to pressure you into anything.” 

You took a shaky breath in and let it out, “What if I want you to invite me in?” Russell turned and looked at you, “Then I’d ask you in.” You smiled softly and touched his arm, “I’d like that.” 

Russell turned off the car, got out and walked to your side. He opened the door and led you inside his room. 

Once inside he closed the door with his foot, locked it and took you in his arms. The heat between the two of you was undeniable. As the wet clothes you were wearing were shed, whispers and confessions of love were shared. The two of you tumbled into the bed and tangled your bodies with the sheets. 

By the end of the night, the two of you were breathless and fully satisfied. You laid in Russell’s arms as he held you tightly. “I love you, Y/N. I’m so sorry I left you.” “I know you are, Russell. I love you too.” He pulled you closer and kissed your head, “Come on sweetheart, let’s get some sleep.” You drifted off to sleep in his arms. 

The next few days you two spent making up for lost time and being back in each other’s arms. You never stopped loving him. After his meeting with Colter, you felt something shift between you. He seemed distant and angry. You tried to get him to talk to you, to open up to you.

“Russell, please talk to me. What happened with Colter?” “Nothing! Don’t worry about my families, troubles.” He snapped, catching you off guard. Tears filled your eyes. “I think you should leave, Y/N. This isn’t going to go where you think it will.” You gasped and quietly looked at him, grabbing your bag and stepped into the crisp air. Russell sat on the bed of his hotel room and watched you walk out. Everything in his body was screaming at him to go after you, but he just sat there. 

As you climbed in your car, you sat there and sobbed. Your heart breaking all over again. How could you be so stupid to think he would stay again. Just a means to an end, to help him pass the time until he met with his brother. You hit the steering wheel, and screamed. Fuck you Russell! You selfish bastard. 

 *Time Jump 3 years*

You’d built a new life after graduating with your degree, but a part of you remained forever tied to the man who had stolen your heart and swept you off your feet again 3 years ago. Partly because of the child your passionate nights together had created. A son, who looked just like his father, and was a constant reminder of the joy and pain left in Russell’s absence.

Then, one day, Russell returned. You saw him across the street, his presence sending a jolt of recognition through you. As he approached, memories flooded back. The way he used to laugh, his infectious smile, the softness in his eyes. You realized that despite the years, the love you felt for him had never truly faded. And as he looked at you, you could see the same longing in his eyes. Your heart was torn between the love you still felt and the hurt left in his wake.

“Hey sweetheart.” His voice is deep and smooth like whiskey. “Hey, Russell.” You replied, trying to steady the tremble in your voice. He stepped closer to you, “Can I hug you?” He asked. You bit your lip nervously, and shook your head yes. He pulled you flush to his chest and his strong arms wrapped around you. Sending your mind reeling and your heart racing. 

When he let you go, he looked into your eyes, “You’re still as beautiful as I remember.” “Thank you, Russell. How have you been?” You asked him. “I’ve been okay. Just doing some private security, I’m helping Colter on a case. What about you? Are you married, have any kids?” 

You bit your lip and looked up into his green eyes, “No, I’m not married, but I do have a son. He’s almost 3.” 

“Wow, sweetheart, 3?” Russell asked with wide eyes. Then it was like a moment of clarity washed over him. His green eyes meet yours. Tears filled your eyes. You hadn’t told him or even Colter that you were pregnant with Russell’s baby. 

You couldn’t tell him. You couldn’t risk him breaking your heart or your son’s heart. When you found out you were pregnant about a month after he left you weighed your options. You weren’t sure you could finish school and have a baby, but your mother offered to help so you could. 

You had your son and finished your degree, now you were working at your dream job, had a place of your own and an amazing son. 

You fidgeted with your hands and shifted. Looking back into his eyes, you saw they were full of questions. Taking a shaky breath you decided to tell him.

“Russell, he’s yours.” Russell’s eyes went wide, “What? Why didn’t you tell me? I would have come back for you, for both of you.” “Would you have, really? I clearly remember you telling me this wasn’t going to go the way I thought it would. I thought we would be together, have children together. I guess those few nights we spent together was just a means to an end for you until Colter came to town. You so easily walked away from me, threw me away. Why would I put my son through that?! He deserves so much better than that!”

Your chest was heaving and tears were streaming down your face. Russell’s eyes softened and flashed with a mixture of embarrassment and regret. He stepped closer to you and pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you. “I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to hurt you, again. After my meeting with Colter, I got scared. I didn’t want to pull you into this shit. It’s crazy and complicated. Fuck! I have been in love with you since we were teenagers. I never married because no one ever compared to you. You have always and will always be the love of my life, Y/N.”

Without warning he placed a soft kiss on your lips while he cupped your face. You moaned into his mouth. As the two of you pulled apart, he wiped the tears that stained your face. “Russell, I’m scared. I don’t want him to be hurt. He would love to meet you. I’ve always told him his daddy was away helping people and one day he’d come home. I don’t want you to come into his life, into my life again and break our hearts. I can’t go through that again, and he shouldn’t have to.”

Russell nodded, “I know. All I can say is if you let me into your lives, I promise I won’t leave you again. I love you, and I want to meet our son. It’s your choice. I’ll wait for you to make the decision, text me when you decide. Either way, I’m going to help you support him. Can I at least see a picture of him?”

You nodded and pulled out your phone showing Russell a picture of the spitting image of himself, sandy brown hair, big green eyes, dimples and a mischievous grin. Russell smiled softly and looked at you, “He looks just like me. What’s his name?” You chuckled softly, “Russell Jr., I wanted him to have your name and yes he looks just like you. He’s definitely wrapped around my finger for sure.” 

Russell couldn’t take his eyes off the photo. The photo of your son, of his son. He’d always dreamed of having children with you, but seeing your son took his breath away. 

He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed heavily. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. Sorry I made you leave and that I left you alone in all of this. I can’t imagine what you went through to have him and finish school.” He stepped up to you and took you in his arms again, “I promise you’ll never have to do anything alone again. No matter what you decide, I’ll always be there for you and our son. I love you.” 

You swallowed hard, “I still love you too, Russell. I never stopped. Please don’t make me regret this, but I’d love for you to meet our son.” Russell stepped closer, face inches from your lips. “When?” Russell asked softly as his hot breath ghosted your lips. “What about tonight?” You replied as you leaned closer to him. “I’d love that.” He said as he kissed your lips. You knew right then your heart still belonged to Russell, and his heart belonged to you. 

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[respectthepetty]

It's the Catholic in me, but I don't care what happens in Century of Love because in my soul I know that Vee is the one San has been waiting for, and since this is a story about faith for me, I'm gonna let the grandma from one of my favorite movies, Fools Rush In, say how I feel.

Vee and San are meant to be. It's obvious! But they lack faith, in themselves, in each other, and what the goddess has given them.

San saved Vee's grandmother ensuring that baby Vee would come along decades later.

Vee saved baby San.

The red sheet feel on both of them when they met.

The red veil fell on Vee during the wedding ceremony.

San stops feeling pain when he is around Vee.

The second Vee took the stone, San felt pain again because Vee was also removing his heart from San.

Who has the red (thread of destiny) on their side?

NOT THIS CHICK!

(I hope that damn tracker is still on that queer rock!)

San asked to meet Vad again in her next life so he could repay her kindness and regardless if the story is telling us that Vee is Vad or Miss Thang is Vad, Vee is the person destined for San.

San cannot fight fate!

Which is why I think the goddess made him pick because San had denied his fate several times and when he finally gave into the idea of loving Vee, the goddess tested him to make sure he was secure in his path, and even though our poor baby girl was crying

our old man passed!

The goddess has delivered San the person he needs and he can't keep fighting it. He can't keep denying what is right in front of him because he thought his path was leading to something different, because he wanted something different. He can't be afraid of what's to come. He already extended his life once to avoid fate, but now he must face what this life has to offer him, Vad or no Vad, life or death, which is something Vee must accept as well.

They need each other for whatever lies ahead, and the goddess has made sure they found each other, but it's up to them to stay together.

They gotta put in work, but they have to have faith that'll it work regardless of what's to come.

What Goddess has spent a century bringing together, let no man separate.

[zapreportsblog]

Hey babyyyyy,

Can we do some more poly!volturi kings x reader where the reader has a great family bond with the guards? And the kings are so proud like "that's the kind of queen we needed."

This sounds perfect, hope you enjoy it ✨

↳ bonds beyond blood ↲

➘ summary : the three volturi kings are proud that their mate is getting along so well with their top guards

➘ aro x reader x caius x marcus, twilight x reader , volturi x reader

In the heart of Volterra's ancient citadel, where shadows danced and history whispered through the stones, the Volturi reigned supreme. Aro, the charismatic mastermind; Marcus, the contemplative soul; and Caius, the unyielding enforcer, ruled with an iron grip, their names synonymous with power in the supernatural realm.

But the immortal facade these kings presented to the world belied the intricate web of emotions they harbored for one human: (Y/N), a woman whose presence ignited a transformation within their centuries-old hearts.

The tale began on an unassuming evening, when (Y/N)'s fate collided with that of the Volturi. Lost in the labyrinthine streets of Volterra, she wandered into their world, unaware of the enigma that awaited her. Aro's gifted sight caught the glimpse of a mortal, a fragile soul amidst the immortal world. Intrigued, he beckoned her forward, a single interaction setting in motion a destiny no one could foresee.

As (Y/N) stood before the thrones of the three kings, her heart pounding, she couldn't ignore the inexplicable pull she felt. Aro's penetrating gaze, Marcus' contemplative demeanor, and Caius' unyielding aura seemed to draw her in, weaving a connection she struggled to understand.

The kings' curiosity grew as they observed her, each captivated by the essence she brought to their lives. Aro's laughter became more vibrant, Marcus' rare smiles more frequent, and Caius' stern façade softened in her presence. A silent understanding flowed between them, forging a bond that transcended human limitations.

While (Y/N)'s presence changed the kings, it also ignited an unexpected kinship among their loyal guards. Alec and Jane, the gifted twins who once struck fear into the hearts of enemies, found in (Y/N) a maternal figure they had never experienced. Her warmth and wisdom touched the depths of their immortal hearts, transforming their relationship into one of unwavering trust.

Felix, the formidable protector, discovered an unexpected gentleness in (Y/N), a trait that resonated deeply with his own spirit. Demetri, the master tracker, admired her determination, finding a kindred spirit in her unwavering resolve.

But it was Alec and Jane who held the most unique connection with (Y/N). With their childlike appearances frozen in time, they looked to her as a maternal figure they had never known. (Y/N) nurtured them with her wisdom, guided them with her love, and in return, the twins showered her with unwavering loyalty and adoration.

In the shadowed halls of the Volturi castle, an intricate dance of relationships unfolded. Kings and guards, vampire and human, became bound by bonds that defied tradition and expectation. (Y/N) stood at the heart of it all, an unwitting catalyst for change and unity.

As the days turned to nights, and (Y/N)'s presence continued to weave its magic, none could anticipate the challenges that lay ahead. Threats both old and new would test the strength of their bonds, and the very fabric of their existence would be shaken.

But in that moment, as the castle's stone walls whispered secrets of centuries past, the Volturi kings and their beloved human mate reveled in the newfound harmony they had forged. They were yet to understand that this harmony would become their greatest strength in the trials that awaited them.

In the heart of the grand Volturi castle, (Y/N)'s presence continued to illuminate the lives of both kings and guards. The bond she shared with Aro, Marcus, and Caius flourished, growing stronger with each passing day. It was a connection that transcended time, defying the very laws that governed their supernatural existence.

As (Y/N) navigated the intricacies of the immortal world, she found herself drawn into the lives of the twins, Alec and Jane. Their once-uncertain existence had transformed into one filled with warmth and acceptance, all thanks to the woman who looked upon them with the eyes of a guardian. She provided guidance, friendship, and a motherly love they had never experienced.

Alec and Jane, once feared for their devastating abilities, now wielded their powers with control and restraint, a testament to (Y/N)'s patient guidance. They had found in her the stability they needed, a figure of trust they could confide in and look up to.

Felix and Demetri, too, had been touched by (Y/N)'s presence. Felix's exterior, once unyielding, softened in the glow of her compassion. He had found solace in her calming influence, a touchstone of gentleness amid the tumultuous world he inhabited. Demetri, with his unerring tracking skills, marveled at (Y/N)'s strength and resilience. He respected her as an equal, an ally, and a friend.

As days turned to nights and the castle's halls echoed with secrets, (Y/N) embraced her role within the Volturi's inner circle. The kings, once distant figures of power, now confided in her their thoughts and hopes, their fears and aspirations. Their bond with her had opened a door to vulnerability, allowing them to share a side of themselves that had long remained hidden.

However, the tranquility that (Y/N) had brought to the Volturi world would soon be disrupted by shadows that lurked on the horizon. Rumors of a rising force, one that sought to challenge the very foundations of their rule, began to circulate. It was a threat that no one could ignore, and the unity forged among kings, guards, and their human mate would be put to the test.

As tension mounted, the intricate relationships woven within the castle walls would be shaken to their core. Loyalties would be questioned, and the limits of love and friendship would be pushed to their breaking point. The kings and their newfound family, bound by love rather than blood, would have to stand together to face the storm that approached.

And so, as the sun dipped below the horizon and cast long shadows across the ancient city, the Volturi prepared to confront a challenge that would either strengthen their bonds beyond measure or shatter the delicate harmony they had built. (Y/N)'s presence, once an unexpected thread in the fabric of their lives, would prove to be the source of strength that held them together in the face of adversity.

Within the towering walls of the Volturi castle, a sense of anticipation hung in the air. As (Y/N) moved through the grand halls, her steps were now accompanied by an underlying tension. The threat that loomed on the horizon was palpable, casting a shadow over the unity she had helped foster.

The kings, Aro, Marcus, and Caius, convened in their private chamber, their expressions etched with a rare mixture of concern and determination. (Y/N) was there, a steadfast presence amidst their deliberations, a living testament to the bonds they had forged.

Aro's eyes gleamed with his usual curiosity, though there was an edge of worry that betrayed his usual confidence. Marcus, ever the observer, seemed to contemplate the future with a weight that surpassed his years. Caius, the embodiment of authority, clenched his jaw, his resolve unwavering in the face of impending conflict.

Beside them, Alec and Jane stood, their faces a mirror of their guardians'. The twins who had found a maternal figure in (Y/N) were now mature beyond their years, their commitment to the family they had formed unwavering. Felix and Demetri flanked the group, their expressions a mixture of vigilance and readiness, ever prepared to defend those they held dear.

As the kings deliberated, (Y/N)'s gaze shifted to the window, her thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. She had become a part of this intricate tapestry, her life interwoven with those of kings and guards alike. The unity they had cultivated was a source of strength, but it was about to be tested in ways they couldn't predict.

News had reached the Volturi of a faction that sought to challenge their dominion, a group that believed their way of life was threatened by the kings' rule. The realization that their world could be on the brink of upheaval sent ripples of tension through the castle's inhabitants.

With a sense of resolve, Aro turned his gaze toward (Y/N), his voice steady yet tinged with urgency. "My dear (Y/N)," he began, "we are faced with a challenge that demands our unity. The bonds we have formed must not falter in the face of adversity."

Marcus, his usually somber eyes showing a glimmer of determination, continued, "We have faced countless challenges throughout history. Our strength lies in our ability to stand together."

Caius, the embodiment of authority, spoke with a conviction that sent shivers down the spines of all present. "We must protect what we've built, even if it means confronting those who seek to undermine us."

And so, a plan began to take shape, a strategy that relied on the unique strengths of each individual. (Y/N)'s role in this impending conflict was not to be underestimated; her presence had already proven to be a beacon of strength, a source of inspiration for those who fought beside her.

As the sun dipped below the horizon and cast long shadows across the castle walls, a sense of anticipation settled over the Volturi stronghold. Bonds forged through love and shared purpose would soon be put to the test, as the unity of kings, guards, and their human mate stood against the gathering storm.

And as the first drops of rain began to fall, (Y/N) braced herself for the challenges ahead, ready to stand by the side of those she held dear and face whatever trials fate had in store.

[a-cat-in-toffee]

bad kids avatar and victim headcanons lets go 🔥🔥

fig - obvious answer is avatar of the desolation (paladin of ankarna) but i feel like the stranger could also play into her impersonations of people tbh. (she would also make a pretty good slaughter avatar, music flavored obviously.) ON THE INVERSE my girl would absolutely be a stranger victim as well esp because of how afraid she is that everyone likes her for her facade and not how she actually is. I could totally see her being a victim turned avatar

gorgug - i think my first instinct would be either hunt/slaughter because barbarian. rage. duh. but i think hes got real buried vibes HEAR ME OUT it is CONSTANTLY talked about how gorgug is too large for places + he had to crawl through a small and enclosed space in the forest of the nightmare king

adaine - you would THINKK she would be the eye because she's an oracle but you'd be WRONGGG my girl is SOO lonely/vast coded absolutely. someone who felt isolated at every turn, never had friends,w as never enough for her parents, small and insignificant, she is SO vast/lonely

fabian - junior year fabian was super lonely victim but i think there's something about living up to bill's legacy that is inherently slaughetr yknow i think slaughter avatar and lonely or hunt victim

kristen - desolation. the church of helio. need i say more. okay i probably need say more but i htink it kind of speaks for itself. being the chosen one for the literal Sun God. fire without flame. on the exact inverse shes also very avatar of the dark coded, rejecting her "destiny" and embracing cassandra, a goddess of night and doubt, that plays well into darkness and the obscuration of facts.

riz - i think riz is the easiest, he's an avatar of the eye and a victim of the lonely. honestly if i were to make a magnus archives fantasy high au he would be the archivist probably. i feel like he's also web touched because of kalina

bonus content

tracker is an avatar/victim of the hunt, kalina is an avatar of the web, chungledown bim is an avatar of the hunt, and baron is an avatar of the lonely.

[animeomegas]

Question for when you get back about the Nara obsession thing. I’m unsure if you have been asked about this, but do alphas get the obsession thing too or is it only the omega? I was re-reading through your series where the alphabet 24 hours with seven friends, and I was thinking of a concept similar to your obsession thing, where the alpha was related to Shikamaru, but then I realized I never knew whether alphas could get an obsession too

All Nara clan members are capable of choosing an Obsession! It's a clan wide trait that doesn't discriminate <3

I'm just imagining Nara!alpha x our favourite boys now though. There's so much potential there~

I wonder who would take it the best? Or the worst?

I reckon Neji would be so conflicted because he hates destiny, but maybe this is a way out, something good, provided by destiny?? Conflicted indeed.

Naruto is so smitten immediately if a Nara alpha chooses him. He BASKS in it.

Iruka can't be convinced just by this 'choosing instinct', so he expects this alpha to take him out and make him fall in love the old fashioned way, thank you very much.

Kakashi RUNS. Hopefully the Nara is a tracker 😫

Sasuke... might be overwhelmed at first. But I actually think he would be one of the best in the long run with a Nara alpha. Because he gets a one way fast pass into a new family, where his presence is accepted and never questioned, and love is given freely and in spades. Sasuke also has that Uchiha crazy love that matches terribly perfectly withthe Nara crazy love. They are both nightmares perfect.

Okay, actually, Sasuke x Nara!alpha is my new thing now, I love them so much.

Such a fun concept🥰

[joaniejustwokeup]

Decided to make this prompt it’s own post- originally based off @noir-renard’s tags on this photo post:

I had an idea for where it could go…

Jason uses Bruce’s account to bid on the car.

Danny uses Vlad’s account to bid on it.

They drive up the price ridiculously high.

Danny wants the car to go on a summer road trip/ college tour with Sam and Tucker.

Jason wants to use it to pick up his brothers from work and school to embarrass them. He’s sure he can convince Alfred to let him be the designated chauffeur for a bit.

Danny just barely places the winning bid in time.

When he gets the car he tricks it out with a bunch of anti-theft and especially anti-ghost security measures. No way he’s letting Johnny or Technus or some other random ghost steal it from him, this car is his. He also adds special storage for ectoplasm and ecto-dejecto, since they’ll be on the road for a bit, but also in case there’s an emergency and they need to get out of town fast. And then they’re off on their summer adventure!

They stop in Gotham to check out Gotham University, and because Sam love the aesthetic and Tucker loves Wayne Tech, leaving their car in a lot frequented by tourists.

While he’s out on patrol Jason suddenly sees THE FUCKING CAR!!! Holy shit it must be destiny. Fuck it, Red Hood is stealing a car today because dammit this was supposed to be his janky-ass dead guy car. He’s gonna reclaim his undead honor and this shitty car if it’s the last thing he does. Only one problem. The car immediately zaps him, knocks him out, and soups him with the automatic thermos the second he touches it (what’s this? A halfa Jason Todd au??? Oh dear!).

Danny, Sam, and Tucker return none the wiser, having had a great day touring the city and the university’s campus. But soon they’re back on the road, having a couple more weeks of travel and touring campuses planned. They finally return to Amity Park, and it’s only then that Danny realizes the car had captured some random ghost while they were on the road. At least it looked like the car had fed them from the ectoplasm storage while they travelled, so they should be healed of any souping-related injuries.

Danny decides to release them in his royal keep in the Infinite Realms (AND a ghost king Danny au? wow who would’ve thought), so that he can have Wulf on hand to portal the ghost back to their haunt if they mean no harm, or contain them in the Ghost Zone if they turn out to be violent.

Jason is spewed out of that freaky thermos into a throne room of black marble, surrounded by glowing, translucent beings. Everything has a Lazarus-green glow, and something deep in his chest seems to be humming in recognition, like a tuning fork resonating with an entire orchestra (is that how tuning forks work? Jason doesn’t fucking know).

Above him floats a teenager in a black and white jumpsuit accented with pieces of medieval armor and a cloak lined with swirling stars and nebulae. Atop his snow white hair sits an obsidian crown bathed in green flames, the same bright Lazarus green as the boy’s eyes. He’s holding the thermos almost sheepishly, looking at Jason in shocked amazement.

“Holy fucking shit- I SOUPED RED HOOD??? RED HOOD’S A GHOST?!?!?”

Meanwhile, the Batfamily has been frantically looking for Red Hood for weeks now. No one knows where he’s gone- his tracker showed him traveling from state to state seemingly at random, before stopping and disappearing entirely. His last tracked location was in a small midwestern town called Amity Park.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Pluralistic is four

I'm on tour with my new novel The Bezzle! Catch me TOMORROW in SALT LAKE CITY (Feb 21, Weller Book Works) and then SAN DIEGO (Feb 22, Mysterious Galaxy). After that, it's LA, Seattle, Portland, Phoenix and more!

Four years ago, I started pluralistic.net, my post-Boing Boing, solo blog project: an ad-free, tracker-free site that anyone can republish, commercially or noncommercially. It's been a wild four years, featuring over 1,150 editions, many consisting of multiple articles:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/02/19/pluralist-19-feb-2020/

As a project, Pluralistic has been a roaring success. I've published multiple, significant "breakout" articles that popularized obscure, important, highly technical ideas, most notably "adversarial interoperability":

http://pluralistic.net/tag/adversarial-interoperability

"End-to-end" as a remedy for multiple internet ripoffs, including as a superior alternative to link-taxes as a means of saving the news industry from Big Tech predation:

https://pluralistic.net/tag/e2e/

and, of course, "enshittification":

https://pluralistic.net/tag/enshittification/

These are emblematic of the sorts of ideas that I've spent the past 20+ years trying to popularize in tech-policy debates dominated by technologically illiterate policy ideas ("abolish Section 230!") and politically illiterate technical ideas (so many to choose from, but let's just say "cryptocurrency"). They require that the reader come along for a lot of cross-disciplinary analysis that often gets deep into the weeds. These are some of the hardest ideas to convey, but nuanced proposals and critiques that work on both political and technical axes are the best hope we have of successfully weathering the polycrisis.

Blogging has always been a part of this project. For nearly 20 years, I posted nearly every day on Boing Boing – 53,906 posts in all! – taking note of everything that seemed important. Keeping a "writer's notebook" in public imposes an unbeatable rigor, since you can't slack off and leave notes so brief and cryptic that they neither lodge in your subconscious nor form a record clear enough to refer to in future. By contrast, keeping public notes produces both a subconscious, supersaturated solution of fragmentary ideas that rattle around, periodically cohering into nucleii that crystallize into full-blown ideas for stories, novels, essays, speeches and nonfiction books. What's more, those ripened ideas are supported by a searchable database of everything I've thought about the subject, often annotated by readers and other writers who've commented on the posts. I call this "The Memex Method":

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/09/the-memex-method/

Pluralistic marks a new phase in my deployment of the Memex Method. With 50K+ notes in a database, I've gradually turned Pluralistic into a forum for far more synthetic, longer-form work that pulls on threads from decades of research into nothing in particular and everything that seemed important.

Pluralistic is also an experiment in retaining control over my destiny – but not my work. Rather than hitching my ability to reach an audience through a platform that can be enshittified at the whim of a mercurial, infantile billionaire or their venal, callous shareholders, Pluralistic is published web-first, on a site I control, and then syndicated to every platform that matters to me. It's a process called POSSE (Post Own Site, Syndicate Everywhere):

https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/13/two-decades/#hfbd

I want to spread the ideas I fight for, so I post them everywhere, and license them Creative Commons Attribution-Only, encouraging others to repost them. Lots of small sites do this, but so do large ones. Notably, Wired picked up my first breakout piece on enshittification and republished it under the CC terms:

https://www.wired.com/story/tiktok-platforms-cory-doctorow/

This was a really interesting process. On the one hand, I didn't get paid for this feature, which did really well for Wired. On the other hand, nearly 30 years of writing for Wired makes me doubtful that I could have gotten this piece out in the form it emerged, without substantially toning down (or, if you prefer, neutering) the rhetoric that made that piece more persuasive. A commissioning editor from one of the largest newspapers in the world got in touch with me after it came out and said they wished they'd published it – but also that they knew they couldn't possibly have done so. By publishing the story first on my blog, proving its audience, and establishing its canonical form, I was able to get it amplified by a service with a much bigger platform than me, without having to compromise on the form.

That republication gave me the much-maligned "exposure" – but it also carried the message to places it wouldn't have reached on its own. I don't write – have never written – solely as an income source. As both an artist and an activist, connecting with audiences has always been co-equal in my mind with earning my living. That's why I don't do a lot of film-writing: it pays well, but most of it never sees the light of day. It's also why I stopped writing for ad agencies: it paid well, but it didn't matter to me or my audience. To mangle Dr Johnson: "No man but a blockhead ever wrote solely for money."

The open nature of this blog, with its many open syndication channels, creates multidirectional pathways for evaluating and refining my attempts at making my ideas understood and my art land. My posts often circle back to points I made earlier, incorporating useful feedback from readers and colleagues, sure, but also anticipating and rebutting those areas where critics have convinced others in various forums. Vanity searching is unjustly maligned: I learn a ton about how to make by work better by lurking in Reddit comments, Hacker News, Twitter, Slashdot, Metafilter and other forums. I also take a sneaky pleasure in knowing that the persistent trolls who reliably pop up to grind their weird axes about me (sometimes referencing blog posts I made decades ago) have taught me how to neutralize them in advance, and it's delightful to see them try their same old lines, only to have other commentators point out that my latest piece makes it absolutely undeniable how wrong they are. Living well is the best revenge, indeed.

Four years. I've been writing Pluralistic for four years. During that time, I've published eight books – and beyond any doubt, Pluralistic helped me get those books into readers' hands. But far more importantly, during that time, I've written nine books – and contracted for a tenth – as the Memex Method paid off again and again.

I don't know how long I'll do Pluralistic for, but I don't foresee stopping any time soon. What's more, no matter what happens to Pluralistic, I can't ever see giving up on the Memex Method, keeping notes in public and making them work for me.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/20/fore/#synthesis

[kiisstuff]

Soulmate-if

Summary:

"Soulmate" is an interactive fiction story that follows the journey of Reyan, a high school girl who has recently been transferred to a new school. Eager to find love and belonging in this unfamiliar place, she encounters five potential romantic interests: Ava, an artistic girl with a unique sense of style; Daniel, the charismatic jock known for his athletic prowess; Gea, the popular girl who seems to have it all; Robert, the brilliant nerd who's passionate about academics; and Maxine, the troublemaker known as Max, who has a rebellious edge. Amidst navigating high school drama, friendships, and secrets, players will help Reyan make choices that shape her future, leading her towards her one true soulmate.

Decision-Making:

Players will face a variety of choices throughout the story, allowing them to guide Reyan's actions and shape her destiny. These decisions will impact her relationships, friendships, and ultimately determine her soulmate.

Character Interaction:

Interact with the five romantic interests, Ava, Daniel, Gea, Robert, and Max, through engaging dialogues and choices. Get to know them better, uncover their personalities, and discover shared interests.

Character Development:

Each romantic interest has a unique character arc and growth throughout the story. Players will witness their personal development as they navigate the challenges of high school life.

Multiple Endings:

"Soulmate" features multiple endings based on the choices made throughout the game. Players can experience different outcomes, including finding Reyan's true soulmate or exploring various paths of her high school life.

Relationship Status:

Keep track of Reyan's evolving relationships with the romantic interests. The game provides a relationship status tracker, allowing players to see how close they are to each character.

Backstory Unveiling:

Delve into the pasts of each romantic interest as Reyan gets to know them better. Uncover their secrets, dreams, and insecurities, leading to a deeper emotional connection.

Emotional Engagement:

"Soulmate" aims to evoke a range of emotions, from joy and laughter to heartbreak and empathy. Players will become emotionally invested in Reyan's journey as she seeks love and belonging.

Meeting Other Characters:

In addition to the romantic interests, players will interact with a cast of supporting characters, including friends, teachers, and rivals. These interactions will shape Reyan's overall high school experience and influence her choices.

Ava - The Artistic Soul

Ava is a free spirit with an artistic soul. She's imaginative, creative, and has a deep appreciation for beauty in all forms. She's also known for her kindness and compassion.

Appearance: Ava has long, wavy auburn hair that falls gracefully down her back, complemented by emerald green eyes that seem to hold entire galaxies within them. Her skin is porcelain-pale, and she often wears bohemian-style clothing, adorned with vibrant colors and flowing fabrics.

Daniel - The Jock with a Heart of Gold

Daniel is the jock with a heart of gold. He's confident, outgoing, and passionate about sports. Despite his popularity, he's down-to-earth and approachable.

Appearance: Daniel has a tall, athletic build, with short, sandy blond hair that matches his striking blue eyes. His sun-kissed skin reflects his time spent on the field, and he typically wears his sports team's jersey.

Gea - The Popular Queen Bee

Gea is the epitome of popularity. She's charismatic, social, and always the center of attention. Beneath her confident exterior, she harbors insecurities and secrets.

Appearance: Gea has long, flowing black hair that cascades down her back, framing her enchanting hazel eyes. Her complexion is a warm olive tone, and she's often seen wearing the latest fashion trends that accentuate her natural beauty.

Robert - The Nerd with a Brilliant Mind

Robert is the school's intellectual powerhouse. He's a bookworm, tech genius, and excels in academics. He's shy, introverted, but incredibly kind-hearted.

Appearance: Robert has messy, chestnut-brown hair and wears thick-rimmed glasses that emphasize his intelligent gaze. His skin is fair, and he dresses in comfortable, casual attire, often sporting graphic tees and jeans.

Maxine (Max) - The Troublemaker with a Rebellious Streak

Max is the enigmatic troublemaker, known for her fearless attitude and rebellious spirit. She's a bit of a mystery, with a tough exterior hiding a softer side.

Appearance: Max has a punk-rock style, with short, jet-black hair and intense, stormy gray eyes. Her dark skin adds to her edgy appeal, and she's usually seen in leather jackets, ripped jeans, and combat boots.

demo: https://dashingdon.com/go/15340 (01.01.2024)

forum: https://forum.choiceofgames.com/t/soulmate-wip/147221

Tumblr: Soulmate-If , TBFamily-If

others:

[sorinethemastermind]

Blackest Night (3/4)

In which Soren's family search for him in the hopes it's not too late, and Soren has to choose his destiny. @honeii-puff here's like 9K words of emotional devastation.

 Soren opened his eyes, but he might as well not have. His surroundings were pitch black. Until they weren’t.

 A beam of light pierced the endless darkness overhead, shining directly down onto him. He squinted, throwing up a hand to shield his eyes. It was then, with his hand over his face, that he realized the purple veins were gone. He turned his hand over and over, inspecting it. The cut on his palm was gone as well. And… he felt fine?

 He looked around, eyes slowly adjusting to the dichotomy of complete light and darkness. There were no trees, no sky, no grass beneath his feet. And most importantly, no Aaravos.

 “Hello?” he called, turning to take in the endless dark surrounding him. No shapes loomed out of it, no figures appearing to tell him where he was or what this was. Did he cast a spell on me? Soren wondered, beginning to panic. Does that mean Aaravos survived? 

 “Hello? Is anybody there?” he called again, stepping out of the beam of light. Or, trying to. It moved with him and he glanced up, searching for a source. That was a mistake, it was blinding, and he looked away quickly, blinking rapidly. 

 “Alright, fine.” he said to the darkness. “If you won’t tell me what you are, then I’ll just figure it out myself.”

 He started to walk. The light followed him, the darkness on every side remaining otherwise absolute. It gave him the impression of walking in place, which as good a work out as that could be, was not his intention. But he had to be going somewhere. This place couldn’t go on forever. Could it?

 It took him a little while to realize that there was something different under his feet. Soren looked down, confused to see footprints that weren’t his own. He looked behind himself, the vague outlines of them just visible in the dimness where the light met the darkness, fading out of view behind him like they went on forever, too. He turned back ahead and saw them stretching before him as well; definitely not his own footprints, then.

 He followed them, his own feet fitting them perfectly, as though the path had been made for him. As though some other version of him had walked it long before he had ever come to this place. Or, Soren thought more logically, maybe I’m just going in circles and I didn’t realize it. 

 But that made less and less sense the more he thought about it. He’d been walking straight this entire time, never even weaving to one side or the other. Which could only mean one thing; he wasn’t alone.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

 Thankfully, Corvus was a tracker and Soren wasn’t the most subtle man in the world. They were able to pick up his trail fairly easily, once they realized he’d left straight out the main gate. His footsteps in the ash led them to the edge of the road, and from there into the woods. His destination was clear to all of them, and they picked up the pace, moving as quickly as they could over the uneven ground. 

 Aaravos had thought of that, too. Callum thought bitterly. The trees were too thick for horses, the ground uneven enough to make sure a larger force would have a hard time picking their way through. 

 “Why would Soren do this?” Ezran was asking, panting as he trudged alongside them. His shorter legs were having to work twice as hard for him to keep pace with them. 

 “I don’t know.” Callum said, the animosity between them forgotten under the current circumstances.

 “You two don’t pay very good attention, then.” Corvus said from up ahead, turning back to them. “He would do anything for you.”

 “But we didn’t ask-”

 “You didn’t have to.” Corvus said, turning back to the trail. 

 Callum felt chastised, and maybe rightly so. Soren had always been there for them, even after things got complicated. Sure, there had been some bumps in the road. But he was practically their brother. Callum shook his head.

 “I just don’t understand why he’d be so stupid as to go and do it alone.”

 “He’s Soren.” The other three said at once.

 Callum grimaced. The spell had certainly seemed like a better idea when it had been his own life on the line. Now though… he just hoped they wouldn’t arrive too late.

 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

 Soren followed the path of footsteps for a long time. He wasn’t honestly sure just how long, but it was enough for him to start to wonder if he really had just been going in circles this entire time. He was on the verge of giving up; breaking off and walking into the darkness in some other direction just to see what would happen, when he saw a glimmer of movement in the distance. He picked up the pace, at first shifting into a light jog, but it turned into an all out run not long after.

 The glimmer slowly gained a form, and then features, and then Soren came to an abrupt halt. He was close enough now that the light shone on the both of them, and he reached out towards the familiar figure.

 “Clauds?” he asked, hesitating for a moment before grabbing her arm. “Claudia, is that you?”

 She didn’t wrench away from him like he’d expected her to, instead turning slowly to face him. Her skin was a pale gray, marred with the dull purple scars of dark magic. Her hair, once black, was almost entirely white. 

 “Sorbear?” she asked, eyes going wide, her smile wider. “Oh, it is you!” 

 She threw her arms around him in a tight embrace, catching Soren off guard and nearly throwing him off balance. 

 “I’ve missed you.” she said before releasing him, stepping back to smile up at him. “But now you’re here!”

 Claudia grabbed his hand and started pulling him on along the path, their footfalls landing perfectly in the indents already laid out before them. Even though he’d found Claudia, the prints were still stretching ahead of them both; like a preordained road to… somewhere. He didn’t know where, and didn’t know if he wanted to.

 “Claudia, wait.” Soren pulled his hand from her grasp, forcing her to stop and turn back to him. “Where are we?”

 “We’re not there yet, silly.” she said, rolling her eyes. “Come on, we will be soon.”

 “No.” Soren said, glancing around them in steadily growing alarm. “Where are we right now? Did Aaravos trap you in here, too?”

 “Trap me? We’re not trapped. We’re almost there.” She reiterated, trying to take his hand again. He pulled away from her. 

 “Clauds, I don’t think this is right.”

 She frowned, eyes flickering solid black for a split second, and Soren took a step back. But then it was gone, like he’d made it up. Maybe he had, along with the rest of this place. Or maybe…

 “Claudia, it’s okay. I’m going to get you out of here.” Soren placed his hands on her shoulders, only seeing the smiling face of his little sister despite the gray complexion and violet markings.

 “It’s going to be okay.” he repeated.

 “What do you mean it’s going to be?” she asked, tilting her head to give him a confused half smile. “It’s already okay. We’re almost there.”

 “I don’t know where there is.” Soren told her. “But if Aaravos wants us to go that way, we definitely shouldn’t.”

 “Aaravos is dead, Sorbear.” she told him, patting him on the shoulder. “You killed him, remember? Now come on, Dad is waiting." 

 “Dad-” the word shot through Soren like lightning, his grip on Claudia’s shoulders tightening. 

 “Ow!” she pulled away from him and he released her instantly. “Soren, you’re scaring me.”

 “I- I’m sorry.” he stammered, reaching out for her momentarily before pulling his hands back. “It’s just… Dad is dead, Claudia.”

 “No.” She shook her head. “No. No, no-”

 “But it’s okay. It’s going to be okay. I’m going to get you out of here. We still have each other. We’ll figure it out. ” 

 Claudia’s shoulders were shaking, and Soren glanced around desperately for a way out, another pathway, anything.

 “No-no-no-no.” Claudia was saying, the words bleeding together as her voice climbed higher. “No-no-no-no-no!”

 Soren turned back to her, searching for something to say, some way to explain what had happened. But before he could say anything she threw back her head, a hysterical burst of laughter escaping her throat.

 “No, no, no!” she screamed, and when she looked back at him, purple tears were leaking down her face. “Dad isn’t dead, because if he was, then it would be your fault. And you wouldn't do something like that, would you? Not again. Because I don’t think I could forgive you a second time.”

 “Oh, no, no, no.” Claudia shook her head. “I don’t think I could forgive you a second time.”

 “Clauds, please, you have to understand.” Soren reached for her, his voice breaking.

 “How could you?” She screamed. “How could you? How could you?”

 Soren covered his ears and squeezed his eyes shut, the shrill sound echoing through the darkness around him. 

 “How could you? How could you? How could you?”

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 Rayla was pretty sure this was all her fault, somehow. Then again, she was pretty sure that most things were. She was exhausted; both mentally and physically. But she couldn’t let that stop her. Not now, not when Soren could be dying around any corner. 

 If only I hadn’t asked Callum to come sleep in my room, she berated herself. How dumb am I? How could I have not seen this coming.

 “Rayla, are you okay?” Callum’s voice broke through her internal litany and she turned to where he was walking beside her. It was nearly midday, and she could see the sweat on his brow, the tired bags under his eyes from another sleepless night. Even when they did reach the glen, they were in no position to face Aaravos. Their only hope was that Soren had succeeded in casting the spell and killing him. And that meant hoping that Soren had, in fact, poisoned himself with Dark Magic. It was a grim hope. One Rayla would rather not have. 

 “I’m okay.” she sighed. What else was there to say? It wasn’t like they could turn back. Not when this was their fault in the first place.

 “Do you need to rest?”

 “We can’t rest, Callum.” Corvus told them from up ahead. His lead had only grown over the last couple hours; nearly doubling so that now she only caught sight of him when he doubled back to check on them. Now must have been one of those times.

 “Soren could be anywhere, don’t you realize that?” he continued, voice hard and pointed. “Because of your spell.”

 “I didn’t ask him to do this!” Callum snapped back, instantly defensive. “And anyway, when did you start to care so much about Soren?”

 Rayla could see instantly in Corvus’ face that Callum’s words had actually hurt him, and she stepped between them. If Soren wasn’t here to do it, then she would have to fill his shoes. 

 “Stop it, both of you.” she told them. “Callum, I’m fine. And Corvus is right. We don’t have time to rest, anyway.”

 She turned to where the tracker had stopped in the woods up ahead of them. “And Corvus, you know he didn’t mean that. We all care about Soren. That’s why we’re on edge.”

 Corvus just sighed, the hurt in his eyes lingering despite her words. But it wasn’t hurt from what Callum had said, Rayla slowly realized. It was something deeper, older.

 “I just… couldn’t forgive myself if anything happened to him, and I’d never told him.” Corvus said, slowly. 

 “Told him what?” Rayla asked softly, taking a few steps closer to him.

 Corvus didn’t meet her gaze, instead leaving it firmly fixed on his shoes. “That I love him.”

 She heard Callum’s stifled gasp behind her, but didn’t pay it any mind. Instead she crossed the remaining distance separating her from Corvus and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be able to tell him. I know it.”

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 When Soren opened his eyes, Claudia was gone, the shrill echoes of her laughter fading into the luxurious, if somewhat threadbare, upholstery of his father’s office. He let his hands fall back to his sides. What kind of prison is this, he thought desperately.

 “Ah, Soren, you’re here.”

 He whirled at the sound of his father’s voice, hand going for the blade at his side, except, of course, it wasn't there. Viren was facing a bookshelf a few steps away from him, one hand absently tracing the spines of the books even as his eyes roved over them. 

 “Good. Here it is." He took one of them down, walking past Soren as though this was a normal occurrence - as though he wasn’t a ghost - and cleared a space for it on the table. The tome made a loud thump as he dropped it onto the scarred wood, the cover falling open to reveal a page near the end, the paper creased and stained.

 “Come. I want to show you something.” his father said, beckoning him forward with a finger. Soren found his feet moving nearly of their own volition, carrying him towards the table. He considered resisting, but there was something oddly comforting about his father being there, just like he used to; dressed in his old robes of office and hunched over a book.

 “What is it?” Soren asked as he came to a halt beside Viren, only to find that he was too short to see over the top of the table. “I can’t see.” 

 His voice had climbed in pitch, and when he looked down at his hands, he found a familiar dragon plush clutched in them.

 “Daddy?” he asked, looking up. “Daddy, I can’t see.”

 His father reached down and picked him up, setting him on the edge of the table. Soren sat there, legs dangling over the side of the table, and peered at where Viren was pointing. The book depicted a smiling family; a mother, father, and two children. A son and a daughter. 

 “It’s us.” Soren declared, pointing at each in turn. “That’s you, and that’s Clauds, and that’s me, and that’s-”

 Except when he went to point at the mother, she was suddenly gone, and in place of the little family portrait were the instructions to a spell.

 “Where did Mommy go?” Soren asked, looking up at his father. His eyes, once smiling, had gone cold. Viren turned away. 

 “She left.” he told Soren, and the lights in the office began to snuff out until only one remained, directly above Soren’s head. He squinted against the harshness of it as his father’s form retreated into the dark.

 “Daddy?” he asked, the dragon plus falling from his grasp as he reached for him. But the darkness continued to swallow the room, and him with it. 

 “She left, just like you did.”

 “I- I had no choice.” Soren stumbled to his feet, legs suddenly long enough to reach the floor again. He grabbed for his father, but he was trapped inside the light, unable to reach him. “You didn’t give me any choice!”

 “You always had a choice.” Viren spat, turning back to him, eyes shining black, dull purple scars creeping out from beneath his collar and stretching up across his face. “I made sure of that. You would be dead without me, Soren. I gave you everything. And you still left. What did you want from me? What more could I have given you? I gave you my heart.”

 And the darkness ate up his father, and it ate up the room, and Soren was falling. 

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 Neither Ezran nor Callum really knew what to say to Corvus’ proclamation, so they just continued on. Rayla walked beside him for a little ways, offering comfort. She understood more than most, Ezran guessed, what waiting too long felt like. If in a different sort of way.

 Ez looked up at his big brother, plodding along beside him. He could see the tired lines in his face, reminding him of the way their father had looked after an especially long council session. 

 “Are you okay?” Ezran asked him, quiet enough that neither Rayla or Corvus could hear. He knew his brother well enough to know that if Rayla was present, he would be too worried about her to really talk about whatever was bothering him. They were both so silly, sometimes. 

 “I’m fine.”

 “You sure?” Ezran pried. “You certainly seem like you’ve got some big feelings in there.”

 “I said I’m fine.” Callum snapped, but after a moment his expression softened to one of remorse. “Sorry.”

 “It’s okay. You just needed to get it out of your system.”

 “I- I’m sorry, about a lot of things.” Callum admitted.

 "Well?" Ezran waited, raising an eyebrow at his older brother. Callum sighed, half laugh and half exasperation.

"I'm sorry about the way I've been treating you." he continued. "And I'm sorry about not warning you about Runaan, and I’m sorry about-"

"Wait, Callum." Ezran interrupted him. "I'm sorry, too. I… I understand why you brought Runaan back. I don't necessarily agree, but I understand. You did it for her."

 Their gazes both trailed up the path to Rayla and Callum smiled a little weakly.

 "I'd do anything for her." He looked back down to Ezran. "Just like I would do anything for you."

 "I know, Callum. But did you ever think that maybe I don’t want you to?”

 Callum paused, looked away. “That’s not how it works.”

 “Are you glad that Soren did this?”

 “What? No, of course not-” he broke off, shaking his head. “You’re good, you know that?”

 “I know it.” Ezran said, flashing his brother a quick grin before continuing; “So… you wish that Soren had come to you for help, and let you help him? Do you, maybe, I don’t know; wish he hadn’t of run off to sacrifice himself for the greater good even though you didn’t ask him to? Do you maybe wish that you could do something to help him other than just hope he’s alive?”

 “I think you’ve made your point.” Callum told him. Ezran stopped abruptly in the middle of the forest, turning to throw his arms around his brother.

 “Good.” he said, voice muffled by Callum’s shirt. After a moment his brother’s arms closed around him, and he rested his chin on Ezran’s head the same way he used to when Ez was small. He still was small. Sometimes even Ezran himself forgot that. 

 “No more stupid hero stuff.” Callum told him.

 “No more stupid hero stuff.” Ezran agreed. “We’re family. We’re supposed to be stupid together.”

 “Are you going to tell Soren that if we find him?”

 “When.” Ezran said, pulling away and looking up at Callum, expression set. “When we find him.”

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 Soren landed on something hard, and cold, and distinctly familiar. He gasped as the wind was knocked from his lungs by the force of the impact, taking a moment to regain it before trying to push himself back up to his feet. But his arms and legs didn’t obey. He tried again, but only achieved the same result. 

 A familiar panic filled him, and Soren fought to keep his breathing steady. Rain began to fall from the sky as he lay there, alone in the dark, unable to move. It was just him and the boulder. Until it wasn’t. Somewhere nearby a dragon roared and Soren flinched, or he tried to, but he couldn’t. 

 It’s okay, he told himself, desperation rising in his chest even as he tried to remain calm. His heart thudded against his ribs, the sound climbing in his ears. It’s okay, this isn’t real. It’s all just a trick. 

 But the roar of the dragon came again, closer this time, and he squeezed his eyes shut, willing it away. It’s just Pyrrah. You and Pyrrah are friends. You’re friends with dragons. You’re one of the good guys now. 

 The roar sounded so close he imagined she had to be right in front of him, and his eyes flew open. But there was nothing there; only more darkness. 

 “Hello?” he tried, voice wavering. The rain filled his mouth when he opened it, and he spat it out. It tasted acrid, not like rain at all. “Hello!? Anybody?”

 Nobody appeared out of the darkness, not even Pyrrah. Was it Pyrrah? What if it was someone else, like the dragon that had destroyed Katolis? 

 As if summoned by the notion, buildings began to loom out of the darkness around Soren; crumbled battlements and the charred remains of the stables. His breathing quickened, what once had been rain turning to ash. It landed on him; coating his skin and filling his nose and mouth with every breath. Soren coughed, choking on the thick, cloying flakes. 

 “Help!” he called, watching as the ash began to build up on him. He tried again to move, but it was pointless. “Help! Help, anybody, please! I can’t move!”

 The ash was endless, covering everything in sight. It wasn’t long before it had built up enough of a layer on him that he blended into the already covered ground. 

 “Help!” he called again, but it just filled his mouth more. 

 Then, movement. Soren’s eyes tracked it along the edges of his peripheral vision, wondering if it was the dragon, come to finish him off. 

 “Hello?” he called anyway. If it was, then it was. And if it wasn’t, then maybe they could help him.

 “What is it that you said?” A voice answered from the dark, almost playful. “The castle is just a building, we need to save lives.” 

 “And how did you save those lives?" the voice asked, becoming painfully familiar. It was behind him now, but Soren couldn’t turn his head. It answered it’s own question. “By taking one. You really are your father’s son.”

 “I’m nothing like him.” Soren snarled.

 “Oh, but you are.” Aaravos crooned, stepping into view from around the other side of the boulder. “Asking others to sacrifice themselves for your greater good. Isn’t that why you left him, after all? And here you are, turning to Dark Magic the moment it’s convenient.”

 “There was no other way.” Soren said. “I- I didn’t ask him to do it. I offered to-”

 “Oh, you knew he would never agree to that.” Aaravos waved the notion away, but paused at the look on Soren’s face.

 “You really thought he would do that to you? Your father was never that much of a monster.” he laughed. “No matter how much you want to think him one, he always cared for you and your sister. It was his greatest weakness. It was what stopped him from being great.” 

 Aaravos clucked his tongue and gave a shake of his head. “A pity, really. He couldn’t be good, but if he hadn’t of had you holding him back, at least he could have been great. Your sister, on the other hand.” he smiled. “Now she will be great.”

 “You stay away from her!” Soren shouted, desperately trying to move. His body didn’t listen any more than it had before.

 Another voice came from the shadows then, and Claudia stepped into the light beside Aaravos. Her hair was solid white, her features scarred and distorted. Soren’s eyes widened. 

 “I thought you wanted me to make a choice?” she said, lingering at the elf’s side. Aaravos reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. 

 “No.” Soren choked out. “Please, Clauds, he’s dangerous.”

 “You said that about Dad, once. And look where he is now.” She waved a hand and gestured to the debris surrounding them. “Buried under the rubble of your failings. Maybe he wasn’t the dangerous one. Maybe it’s you.”

 “Claudia, please.”

 “You wanted me to choose, Soren. I made my choice.”

 “No, Claudia, you can’t do this.” But they were already fading into the darkness and he couldn’t even try and reach for her. “Claudia! He’s using you!”

 “Then what were you doing?”

 “What-”

 “I’m like this because of you.” she turned back to him, stepping out of the dark just enough for him to see her face again. Her hair had reverted to it’s original black, all but for a single white streak. “Everything I did, I did for my family. But you, you abandoned us. Just like Mom did. Just like everybody does.”

 “It wasn’t-”

 “You left me.” she sobbed. “You left me. You said that no matter what happened, we would always have each other. And then you left me.”

 She turned away again, her form retreating into the darkness. “See how it feels.”

 “Claudia! Wait, come back! I won’t leave you! I’m sorry! I won’t ever leave you again!” he called after her until his throat was raw and every breath was choked with ash. Until the rubble around him was buried in it, and he was too. Until all he could see, and taste, and breath was gray.

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 When they found him, they almost couldn’t believe it. They arrived well after sundown, the moon and flitting forms of lighting bugs offering the only light. Corvus almost didn’t see it through the darkness, but at the last moment the moonlight reflected off a half broken statue of an elf, standing in a clearing, and he stumbled forward, feet crunching on something jagged.

 He looked down, lifting his foot carefully off the smashed glass jar on the ground. A book lay on the stone next to it, small droplets of blood smearing the page with the incantation.

 “Soren!” Corvus cried, not caring who might hear. “Soren, hold on!”

 He stumbled forward, hearing the others picking up the pace behind him. They burst into the clearing at about the same time that he spotted him, lying on the grass near the statue’s feet. But he wasn’t alone. There was a cloaked figure leaning over him, small and frail. Corvus’ hand drifted towards his weapon even before he realized who it was.

 Claudia looked up at him, the hood falling back from her face to reveal hair almost entirely stark white. The only thing that stalled his hand was the sight of the tears in her eyes, her cheeks already wet with them.

 “What did you have him do?” she asked, voice harsh and quavering. 

 Corvus came to halt above them both, and Claudia looked past him and towards the others. Her mouth twisted into a snarl. “What did you have him do!?”

 Ezran was the one who answered. “We didn’t ask him to do this, Claudia.”

 “And why should I believe that?” she hissed, standing up to face them, hands going to the staff slung across her back. “All you’ve ever done is use him.”

 “What are you talking about?” 

 “You- you manipulated him, lied to him. It’s the only way he could have… have turned on us. Turned on me. You did something to him.”

 “We didn’t do anything, Claudia.” Ezran’s voice was gentle, like he was trying to calm a wild animal.

 “Then why-” her voice broke, hand falling from the staff as she dropped back to the ground beside her brother, both hands clasping one of Soren’s. “Why would he leave me? Why would he do this?”

 “Aaravos is the one using people.” Callum said from behind Corvus. “Or, he was.”

 “Don’t talk about him that way.” Claudia snapped. “Aaravos believed in humans. He gave us magic.”

 “He destroyed Katolis! He killed your father!” 

 Claudia turned to them then, horror painting her features, but it was just as quickly replaced by disbelief. “He would never. You killed my father. You and your elf.”

 Corvus let them argue, he couldn’t care less. He dropped to Soren’s side even as Claudia rose from it, her and Callum’s voices rising as they began a shouting match. It wasn’t long before Ezran and Rayla joined them.

 Corvus brushed Soren’s hair from his face, clutching one of his friend’s hands to his chest. It was crisscrossed with purple veins, standing out against his pale skin.

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 “Come back to me, Soren. Please.”

 Soren was floating, drifting lazily through the dark as he sank further and further below the surface. The ash had given way to the endless churning of a gray sea, the crashing waves just vague flashes of movement far above him. But the familiar voice pierced the depths like a ray of light, illuminating the water around Soren. 

 “Corvus?” his question emerged as a stream of bubbles from his lips, and Soren was suddenly aware of the fact that his lungs were full of water. He choked, gasping desperately for air even as the feeling returned to his limbs and he began to kick towards the surface.

 He swam upward, but the churning waves above him never seemed to get any closer. Pushing frantically at the water, he tried to propel himself further, but what oxygen had been in his body was swiftly running out, the water in his lungs like a weight dragging him down further. He fumbled awkwardly with his armor, detaching it and letting it fall away. Lightened, he tried again, kicking at the water until-

 “Soren, please. Please come back to me. I need you.”

 His head broke the surface, coughing up water, and then his father was there, leaning over his bedside, and the waves had transformed into the rumbled sheets of his bed.

 “It’s okay, Soren.” His father said. “Breathe. Just breathe. In through-”

 Soren threw the remaining covers aside, stumbling from the bed and towards the door. He wasn’t going to do this again. He wasn’t going to fall for whatever trick this was.

 “Soren?” Another voice brought him to an instant standstill, and he stood there, eyes squeezed shut, as though that would stop him from hearing it. Stop it from being real.

 “Soren, are you alright?” his mother stood from her place at the foot of his bed, crossing the room to place a gentle hand on his arm. And suddenly he wasn’t trying to escape, he was trying to stay. To stay there in her arms, because she was enveloping him in a warm hug, and somehow she smelled the same way he remembered from when he was small. He hadn’t even realized he remembered until now. 

 He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight, as though she could slip away at any moment. 

 “Soren, it’s okay. It’s okay, now. Just breathe.”

 And he did, shakily at first, but growing stronger and steadier, until his lungs weren’t burning anymore. She let him go, stepping back to look at him with a smile in her eyes and on her face.

 “There we go. Isn’t that better?”

 “You’re not real.” he choked out. “None of this is real.”

 “Of course I’m real, Soren.” she reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair out of his face. “I’m right here.”

 “No, you’re not.” he managed, almost as though convincing her would make it better. Would make this all end. “None of this is. You’re… you left. And Dad-”

 “What about me, son?” his father stood up, looking at him the way he used to. The way he looked at him before he got sick.

 “You’re dead.” Soren told him, voice breaking. “I killed you.”

 Something crashed above them and the beams of the house shook, but neither of them so much as glanced up. Soren could hear screaming outside, and he looked around wildly for the door. 

 “What’s happening?” he asked, but when he turned back to them, it was only his father, dressed in rags, standing in his cell. 

 The cuffs clattered from his wrists as Soren watched, and the screams outside rose in pitch. When Soren looked down at his hands, he found the Staff of Xiard clutched in them. He dropped it in horror, staggering back against the cold iron bars of the cell.

 “It’s okay, Soren.” his father stepped closer, leaning down to pick up the staff. “I have to do this.”

 “No.” Soren shook his head, blocking his way to the door. “I- I’m not going to kill you again.”

 “Oh, my son.” Viren took a step forward, reaching out for Soren hesitantly before letting his hand fall back down to his side. “You didn’t kill me. I made the sacrifice, the same way you did. Anything for family. However dangerous, however vile.”

 “But I-”

 “Don’t. Let me do this for you.”

 Soren hesitated. Anything for family. His expression hardened. “You’re right.”

 He reached out, snatching the staff from his father’s hands and running from the room. He let the cell door clang shut behind him, turning swiftly to lock it before his father could follow.

 “Soren!” Viren called, reaching for him through the bars. “Soren, don’t! Dark Magic is dangerous!”

 However dangerous. Soren ran for the stairs that led from the dungeons, turning back one last time as he neared them, just long enough to see his father’s sad smile. 

 “I’m so proud of you, son.”

 Soren turned and he ran away. He didn’t even notice that he was crying.

 The great tree in the courtyard was burning, raining flaming leaves onto the stones below. They singed Soren’s arms and face as he ran beneath it, yelling at everyone to get out; to leave everything and run. He thundered up the stairs and down the halls, barely stopping to catch his breath, and crashed through the already damaged doors and into the king’s quarters. There, he thought. That's where he did it. 

 Soren glanced around wildly, searching for a weapon. Ezran wasn’t the type to keep a blade in his chambers, but King Harrow had been. Soren pulled the halberd from the iron grip of the suit of armor that clutched it, trying desperately to remember what the rune was that he had seen on his father’s chest when he pulled him from the rubble. Despite his attempts not to look at it, the image had burned itself into Soren’s mind. He’d never thought he’d be grateful for that one day.

 He went to the edge of the bed, bracing the thinnest point of the metal against the footboard and applying as much pressure as he could. The cold steel cut into his hand as he pressed on it, but he didn’t stop until a small part of it snapped away. Discarding the rest of the weapon, he lifted the shard from where it had landed on the ground and - realizing he’d already abandoned his chestplate in the gray sea - set to work. 

 He hissed with pain as the metal bit into his skin, but the rune didn’t need to be deep. He hoped. Once he had finished, he let the shard of bloodied metal fall back to the floor and staggered towards the open doors of the balcony. He could still hear people screaming, their voices rising as he stepped out into the open air, thick with smoke and ash. Flames crackled nearby, and he could feel their searing heat on his face and exposed skin.

 The dragon swooped by overhead, and he could swear that he heard laughing. The cold, ruthless laugh of his enemy. Soren staggered forward, supporting himself on the carved railings of the balcony. Reaching the end, he hefted the staff before him, fingers slotting into place as though he’d done it a thousand times before. As though it were destiny.

 Maybe it was, some bitter part of him though. A destiny he’d spent his entire life running from. Well, he wasn’t running now. 

 “Hearts of cinder… do not burn.” he muttered it to himself the first time. “Hearts of cinder.. do not… burn.” he said it again, more forcefully this time. And when the dragon swooped by again overhead, he raised the staff, and he proclaimed it to the sky.

 “𝔑𝔯𝔲𝔟 𝔱𝔬𝔫𝔫𝔞𝔠 𝔯𝔢𝔡𝔫𝔦𝔠 𝔣𝔬 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔢𝔥!” the dragon’s head swiveled to face him at the sound of his voice, and it roared. But Soren wasn’t afraid. 

 “𝔑𝔯𝔲𝔟 𝔱𝔬𝔫𝔫𝔞𝔠 𝔯𝔢𝔡𝔫𝔦𝔠 𝔣𝔬 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔢𝔥!” he told it, watching as the purple light shone from the staff and washed over the people below him. It moved like a wave across the courtyard and the castle, enveloping everyone. It was kind of pretty, Soren thought dimly. 

 The dragon roared again, mouth opening wide, and he could see the flames building in its throat. But he just roared back. “𝔑𝔯𝔲𝔟 𝔱𝔬𝔫𝔫𝔞𝔠 𝔯𝔢𝔡𝔫𝔦𝔠 𝔣𝔬 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔢𝔥!”

 And the spell settled into place, protecting everyone below him. “My heart for Katolis!” he screamed at the dragon as it spewed it’s fiery breath down upon them. 

 And nobody burned, but Soren did. 

 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

 Claudia shouted at them until her voice was hoarse and none of them had anything left to say. She probably would have kept shouting, even then, except as she was opening her mouth to do just that, Soren gave a horrible, blood curdling scream behind them and everything else was forgotten.

 Claudia fell to her knees beside her brother. Clasping his hand in hers and clutching it to her. His chest was rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths, and she could feel her own quickening to match. 

 “What’s happening to him?” Corvus asked her in a panic. Even as the rest of them argued with each other, he had never left Soren’s side. Claudia looked up to meet his gaze, finding tears in his eyes. She felt her own fill as well.

 “He’s dying.” she managed. Nobody, not even Callum, had the heart to yell at her then.

 “What do you mean he’s dying?” The elf - Rayla - dropped to the ground beside Corvus, looking anxiously down at Soren before glancing back up at Claudia. “He- he can’t be…”

 She trailed off, eyes roving over the spiderweb of deep purple veins stretching under his skin like tiny fissures. Some of them had burst, forming deep violet and magenta bruises across his body.

 “What’s happening to him?” The elf asked, a quaver in her voice. 

 Claudia remembered what her brother had said in the Drakewood about being friends with elves and dragons. Maybe he hadn't been full of it after all. But if he was right about that, then… she looked up at the statue looming over all of this, Aaravos’ face frozen forever in a snarl, a single line of moisture having leaked from his eye and down his cheek.

 She had tried not to think about what the others said. Not really. Aaravos had tried so hard to save her father, why would he turn around and kill him? And destroying the castle, that didn't make any sense at all... except that it did. And that reality had kept nagging at her even once they’d all stopped shouting and fallen into angry silence.

 Because the pearl had been there, waiting for him. Waiting for her. And the dragon that had done it - and died in the process - was an ancient enemy of his. Like from the story. She remembered Terry telling her how things got twisted along the way; warning her that she couldn't trust Aaravos.

 She didn’t know if she could bear it all being a lie. If she had just been a pawn. Claudia squeezed her eyes shut, lying her head on Soren’s chest and listening to the rapid thumping of his heart.

 “He won’t die.” Rayla said, as though willing it to be true. “Soren is strong. He’ll get through this.”

 “You don’t get it, do you?” Claudia murmured, not bothering to raise her head. “This isn’t like when Callum or I used Dark Magic. Soren is different.”

 She waited for them to put the pieces together, but they didn’t. Instead, after a moment, Callum asked; “What are you talking about?”

 Claudia did raise her head then, just enough to glare at him. “Can you really not put two and two together? The spell is reacting with the Dark Magic already in his system.”

 Callum looked like he was about to snap back at her, but Ezran interrupted his brother, raising a hand to shush him as he turned to Claudia. “Already in his system?”

 “Do you ever even talk to him, or do you just send him off on errands for you?”

 “Claudia, please.” And it was Corvus this time, voice filled with pain and fear, and she couldn't snap at him; not when it was so clear how much he cared about her brother. Claudia remembered, bittersweetly, how Soren had tried to shave a scar into his eyebrow like the one Corvus had. How cool he’d thought the older guard was, even then. So she sighed, and there wasn’t venom in her voice as she answered; only sadness.

 “You act all high and mighty, like it’s beneath you, but Soren wouldn’t be here without Dark Magic. Without me and my Dad’s magic. You were there." she said, looking up at Callum and his elf friend. "You saw the dragon. Did you really think he just got up and walked away after it slammed him with it's tail? Threw him into a rock?"

 She shook her head and laughed bitterly. "Of course you did, because if that's what happened, then him getting hurt wouldn't be your fault. This-" she thrust his hand out to them again, making them really look at the purple lines stretching across his skin. "This is how he's still standing. So you're welcome."

 Nobody interrupted her as she continued, the story pouring out of her now that she’d started. “He was paralyzed. None of my other spells were working, but I knew I couldn’t leave him like that. So I did what I had to do. However dangerous, however vile. Anything for family.” 

 She looked up at them, and she could imagine the way they saw her then. The monster they thought she was. “Anything.”

 But nobody called her names, or told her she was wrong, or that she was evil. Instead they just watched as she gently brushed her thumb across the back of Soren’s hand, willing him to wake up. When he didn’t, she went on.

 “You probably don’t remember, it was before you moved into the castle, Callum. Before Ezran was even born. But you do remember your Dad. You talked about it sometimes, after. Not much. Nobody likes to talk about those things. But I realized, later, that it must have been the same thing. When Soren was little, sometimes he couldn’t breathe. I didn’t really understand what was happening at the time, I was too little. But it was scary. And then it got really bad. He would just lie in bed all day, trying to breathe, and I could hear him through the walls. Fighting for every breath, every second of life.”

 She looked up at all of them, daring them to judge her. To judge her father. “So my Dad fixed it. He did what he had to do for our family. However dangerous, however vile. Soren is only alive because we’ve been willing to do whatever it takes. And I would do it all again. And maybe you think you wouldn’t, but you would. If it was Ez, or Rayla, or your Dad. You would do it too.”

 She was just speaking to Callum, then. Because he had always been the one who hated her for it the most, she knew. Who had been the most afraid. The weakest. But he didn’t look weak now. Or afraid. Instead she saw the harsh recognition in his eyes that yes, he would have done the same. However dangerous, however vile. 

 “And now he’s going to die.” Claudia said. “Because of all of you.”

 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

 Soren was ashamed to admit that he had screamed when the fire washed over him. It had only burned for a moment, but it had been one moment too many. He hated to think how long that single second had dragged on for his father. If it had been more than one; how long he might have lain there, alone, as the castle crumbled around him.

 But Soren had gotten lucky. From the fire he fell into a deep, cool blue ocean, and the water washed the heat and the burns away. Soren let it hold him, let it fill him up with peace and quiet and float him away wherever it liked. He was tired. He was done. He didn’t want to see what the next vision had in store for him.

 But eventually the waves washed him ashore and he found himself on a sunny beach, looking up at a blue, cloudless sky. Soren closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and pushed himself to his feet. He couldn’t give up yet. 

 Surveying his surroundings, Soren tried to imagine what sort of monster would appear this time. Maybe a dragon, swooping down from overhead? Or an endless army of foes, rushing at him from the woods? Maybe it would be nice and simple; a Banther or something, come to gobble him up. He trudged over to the forest’s edge and snapped a large branch off one of the trees. At least this time he would have a weapon. But nothing came. 

 After a while of standing around, brandishing a stick at every rustling leaf or twittering bird, Soren began to feel silly and returned to the beach, settling down with his legs crossed before him to watch the gentle lapping of the waves. It was peaceful, and he was exhausted. First he let himself sprawl out on the beach, feeling the waves wash over his feet and enjoying the feeling of the sun on his face. Then he let go of the stick, using his arms as a pillow instead. Finally, he let the drowsiness of sleep take him .

 Soren dreamt of worried voices, calling his name and asking him to wake up. They started as a low murmur; the voices undistinguishable from each other as they wove in and out. But slowly, steadily, they grew in strength until he could hear Claudia and Corvus, Callum and Ezran and Rayla. Soren tried not to listen to them, to the worry in their voices and the fear, knowing that it was all just some cruel trick by whatever purgatory he was trapped in. 

 But then Claudia’s voice started to sob, begging him to wake up, telling him that he was the only family she had left; pleading for him not to leave her again. Saying that she needs him. And Corvus told him that he wasn’t allowed to die, that he had something important to tell him, if he would just wake up. And Rayla was saying that he was stronger than this, and Ez told him that he needed him, and Callum said that he was a part of their family, and Soren couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t ignore them and pretend that they weren’t there; because he needed them too.

 So he forced his eyes open, hand reaching for the stick, expecting to find himself back on the beach. But of course not, that would have been too easy. Instead his hand closed around his sword, lying at his bedside, and his eyes opened to find himself in his bedroom at the castle. Alright. He thought, standing and rolling his shoulders. Prepare to be dominated, evil dream world. My family needs me.

 Or maybe that was just a part of the hallucination, too. He pushed the thought from his mind. No. They need me. I just need to wake up. 

 Soren tried pinching himself to be sure he was still asleep and hadn’t just somehow been brought back to the castle, but while it hurt like all heck (he might have done it a bit too hard) he still wasn’t convinced that this wasn’t a part of whatever hallucination he’d been having.

 Especially not when it was suddenly the dead of night. 

 The change had occurred as soon as he stepped out of his room and into the wider halls of the castle; the torches along the walls all bursting into flame, shadows growing in the dark recesses of the corridors until it was night inside and out. Soren’s grip tightened on his sword as he began to creep down the hall, feet carrying him towards the distant sound of fighting. It grew steadily louder as he approached, until he was stepping over what must have been the beginnings of it; fallen guards, pierced through by arrows with terrifying accuracy. 

 Soren almost came to a halt as he recognized the fletching on them; the all too familiar blue and green of the Moonshadow assassins that had taken King Harrow’s life. Alarmed, Soren glanced down at his armor, horrified to find that it was the old model; familiar silver, black, and gold. As if called into existence by his realization that it was there, his old cape billowed around his legs. Soren gritted his teeth and continued onward.

 The sounds of fighting only continued to grow in pitch and intensity until the clang of blades and muffled grunts of combat filled the entire hall, echoing around Soren like the chorus of some especially brutal song. His pace quickened, knowing now where he was going, until he was running through the halls of the castle. He skidded to a halt before the great doors, already pierced through and peppered with arrows, just like the bodies of the guard strewn before them. 

 He pushed them open and stepped inside just as one of the assassins withdrew their blade from King Harrow’s chest. Except it wasn't King Harrow. Soren let out an anguished cry as Ezran’s body slumped to the ground. The moonlight glistened off the polished silver of the assassin’s weapon as it dripped blood onto the floor, and they turned to Soren, pushing the hood back from their face to reveal a horrifyingly familiar face.

 “Rayla?” he gasped, taking a step back. She unsheathed her other blade, falling into an attack stance. “Rayla, please, I don’t want to fight you.”

 “I thought that was all you wanted?” she hissed, springing towards him with superhuman agility. He just barely managed to bring his blade up to block her strike in time, the pair of them stumbling back out into the hall. Soren fought desperately to keep his footing as she pressed him with everything she had, but he was exhausted, and she seemed to be enjoying herself. 

 “Rayla, stop! This isn’t you!”

 Her next blow sent the sword flying from his hands and she kicked him hard in the chest, knocking him to the ground at her feet. She leveled her blade at him, the tip of it hovering just above his face.

 “I thought this is all we were to you? Monsters to hunt for sport.”

 “I never-”

 “A dead dragon and a dead elf all in one day.” she mocked. “Everything’s coming up Soren.”

 “I’m sorry.” he told her, desperation entering his voice. “I was wrong.”

 “You bet you were.” Rayla snarled, eyes flashing with cold anger. “And now you’ll pay the price. Justice will not be denied.”

 She raised her blade, and Soren looked away, squeezing his eyes shut. But not before he saw that every fallen guard around him had Corvus’ face.

 “I’m sorry.” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

 Soren had stopped breathing. Why had he stopped breathing? 

 Corvus’ own breath quickened, as though to point out just how much Soren’s wasn’t. His voice climbed in pitch as he turned to the others, all of them already exchanging worried glances even before he told them.

 “Soren isn’t breathing.” he said, panicked. “What do we do? Does anybody know what to do?”

 Claudia was sobbing quietly, her hair falling in curtains around her face as she clung to her brother’s body. Corvus heard Rayla’s sharp intake of breath, another stab in the gut of what precisely Soren wasn’t doing. And Ezran buried his face in Callum’s shirt, shoulders shaking. His older brother’s stunned expression slowly gave way to horror.

 “Why isn’t anyone doing anything?” Corvus nearly shouted, clutching Soren’s hand so tightly that he worried he might hurt him. “We need to do something.”

 “There’s nothing we can do.” Claudia sniffled, rubbing the tears from her eyes. They just as quickly refilled. “There’s nothing we can do. No spell to fix this.”

 “Then we don’t use a spell.” Corvus said, placing a hand on Soren’s neck, feeling for a pulse. It was still there. Faint, but present. “I’m not giving up on him.”

 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

 “Come on, Sorbear. Wake up.”

 Soren’s eyes snapped open, and the light above him flickering into life, illuminating a small swatch of the empty blackness that stretched all around him. He was back where it had all begun; the path of footprints stretching behind and before him. Claudia was leaning over him, her face still scarred with Dark Magic, but she didn’t seem angry anymore. She offered him a hand and he took it, letting her help him to his feet.

 “Why am I back here?” he asked her, surveying his surroundings. Rayla was nowhere to be seen. None of them were. It was just as blank and empty as the first time he’d set foot here.

 “Don’t worry about it.” 

 “Of course I’m worried about it.” Soren said, snapping a bit more than he’d meant to. He checked his tone back immediately. “Sorry.”

 “Hm, well. It’s okay I guess. I’ve decided to forgive you. Everybody makes mistakes. And anyway, it doesn’t matter. I fixed it. Come on, Dad is waiting for us.”

 Soren could have laughed, or he could have cried, he didn’t know which would have happened first. Maybe both. But he was too tired for either. 

 “Clauds-” he began, but she shook her head,  stamping her foot like she used to when she was little.

 “Stop it! I fixed everything. You’re okay now, and he’s okay too. That’s all that matters.” She took his hand in hers, gentler this time. “Now come on. He’s waiting for us.”

 Soren let her start leading him down the path, following in their father’s footsteps. At first it was kind of nice, listening to her talk about what they were going to do when they finally reached Dad. She said that they would all be together again; one big happy family the way they used to be. She said that she would make pancakes, and Dad had a surprise for them. She said he wanted to make up for lost time; that he was different now. That he’d changed. And Soren wanted to believe her, he really did. And when he’d seen his father in the dungeon, he had seemed different, even if believing that had felt dangerous.

 So he followed her, and he ignored the fact that she was leading him deeper and deeper into the darkness, and he didn’t think about the fact that the light around them was growing smaller, fainter. But after a while, he couldn’t ignore the fact that they weren’t alone anymore. 

 He didn’t know when the other person had started following them, and hadn't looked back to see who it was. Soren didn’t really want to know; it could have been anyone or anything. But whatever next torment this place had dreamed up, Soren figured the longer he could go without having to face it, the better.

 But now it was beside them, keeping pace with them just out of view in the darkness. He felt like he recognized the silhouette, the stride, the way the figure carried itself. But he couldn’t place where he’d seen it before. Not until it strayed a little too close to the light.

 Soren dropped Claudia’s hand, coming to a standstill. The figure kept on walking, going past them and continuing into the dark, and Soren watched himself march past. His blonde hair was streaked with white, his skin a chalky whitish gray, marred by violet scars. Whereas Soren usually wore a sword, the other him held a staff, one that was far too familiar.

 Soren closed his eyes and waited for the apparition to pass. 

 “Sorbear, what’s wrong?” Claudia asked him after a long moment of silence. 

 “You- you saw that, right?” he asked her, sure that if he opened his eyes it would still be there. Maybe it would be looking right at him with its pitch black eyes and twisted sneer, just like the one his father used to wear.

 “Soren, you’re not really scared of your own shadow, are you?”

 He opened his eyes at that. “That thing isn’t a shadow, Claudia.” 

 “Sure it is. Well, maybe more like you’re his shadow. And don’t call yourself a thing.”

 “That wasn’t me.” Soren said, putting extra emphasis on each word, as though that would make it true. “It wasn’t.”

 “I mean, not yet he’s not.” Claudia held out a hand to him, smile gentle. “Come on, Sorbear. Dad is waiting.”

 “No.” Soren flinched away from her, fists clenching at his sides. “I’m not going if that’s who I’ll be when I get there.”

 “Sor-en.” she complained, rolling her eyes. “Come on. It was always going to be this way. This is your destiny.”

 “No.” Soren said again, taking a step back from her. The light moved with him, leaving her half in shadow. “No. That’s not who I want to be.”

 “But it’s who you are.” Claudia insisted. When he still hesitated, her face scrunched up, tears filling her eyes. “Come on, Sorbear. Please. It’ll be okay, I’ll be there with you. We both will. Don’t leave me again.”

 “Come with me.” he begged, reaching out to her. But this time it was Claudia who took a step back, disappearing into the darkness.

 “I- I can’t.” she whispered, her voice seeming to come from all around him. “This is our destiny…"

 “It’s not my destiny.” he told the darkness, searching it desperately for his sister. “And it doesn’t have to be yours. Please, let me help you.”

 “I made my choice.” the darkness told him, and he knew without having to see it that she was gone.  Soren squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tears away, and he turned to walk back the way he’d come; forging his own path through the endless black. We all have choices to make, he thought. This is mine.

[mod-a-day]

Tsuyoshi Sekito, Mathew Valente (TSSF) "A Meeting With Destiny" (IT Conversion) Chrono Trigger (PlayStation, 1999, ????) Square Co, Ltd.

[fullscoreshenanigans]

TPN 181 - WSJ Release vs Volume Release Differences

#wait what they changed the last few pages? have to look it up in my volume o.o (via @officersnickers on this post)

Yeah I've talked about it a bit before in this post, but the volume version adds nine pages on to the WSJ release of chapter 181 and tweaks some of the frames starting around page 17, besides the inclusion of this incredibly poignant side scene at the beginning of the chapter:

The first is an expansion of Emma's speech to the demon god that spreads one panel's dialogue across multiple panels and adds on a bit of new text.

Pages 17-20, WSJ release:

Pages 17-22, volume release:

Pages 19-25 of the WSJ release and 21-27 of the volume release remain the same.

Pages 25-28, WSJ release:

In the volume release, page 27 is the same as WSJ's 25, but page 28-29 adds a dream sequence/vision of Norman and Ray finding Emma on the shore they washed up on two years ago, as if she was always there, waiting for them to turn around and find her like in the chapter title art:

Page 30 expands WSJ's page 26 dialogue out across more panels:

Page 31 removes the "screw destiny" text in the panel next to Alex in WSJ's 27 and replaces it with a panel of Zack, Thoma, Gilda, Lanni, Rossi, Mark, and Jemima (the rest is the same):

The "screw destiny" text is moved to the bottom of page 32 while the top is a mix of flashback panels that include a straight-up lifted one of the trio hug from chapter 27, a new panel of Emma and Ray running after they remove the trackers in chapter 33 but before Anna tends to their wounds, a new spread of some of the kids in the bunker during the Cuvitidala arc, and a tweaked version of Emma and Ray extending their hands to Norman in chapters 153 and 154; Emma wears a slightly different smile while Ray features a more relieved one:

The page 33-34 spread expands the scene on WSJ's page 28 to include more characters as well as alter the expressions of the characters who were on the original page. Notably, Don, Gilda, and Jemima can be seen crying now, Ray's smile is less intense and now softer and more fond, Norman is sporting a blush with tears pricking his eyes, and Emma's hint of a blush is stronger as tears prick her eyes as well, both in the group shot and in the panel of her by herself.

Page 35-36 is an extended spread I've talked about before:

This spread legit made me catch my breath for the briefest of seconds seeing it for the first time. Such a powerful statement conveyed in such simple concept: how after centuries of suffering on the grounds of Grace Field, that chapter of history closes as life blooms anew.

Page 37 shows what life is like for Mujika and Sonju as they lead the demon world into a new era (since Leuvis dipped lol)

And the final page of the volume's version of the chapter shows Emma running off to join her family in front of Alex's home, now filled with plenty of laughter and life again:

The anniversary picture from WSJ #36/37 2020 hints at the kids building more around it: