#Sure it's tragic here

[stromuprisahat]

The Dowager Queen Alicent of House Hightower, second wife of King Viserys I and mother to his sons, Aegon, Aemond, and Daeron, and his daughter Helaena, died on the same night as Lord Westerling, after confessing her sins to her septa. She had outlived all of her children and spent the last year of her life confined to her apartments, with no company but her septa, the serving girls who brought her food, and the guards outside her door. Books were given her, and needles and thread, but her guards said Alicent spent more time weeping than reading or sewing. One day she ripped all her clothing into pieces. By the end of the year she had taken to talking to herself, and had come to have a deep aversion to the color green. In her last days the Queen Dowager seemed to become more lucid. “I want to see my sons again,” she told her septa, “and Helaena, my sweet girl, oh…and King Jaehaerys. I will read to him, as I did when I was little. He used to say I had a lovely voice.” (Strangely, in her final hours Queen Alicent spoke often of the Old King, but never of her husband, King Viserys.) The Stranger came for her on a rainy night, at the hour of the wolf.

Fire and Blood (George R. R. Martin)

[mohntilyet]

about illario working with the venatori, we can't forget that elgar'nan gifted him blood magic, so I do think that he somewhat influenced him and that's why he's so much more vindictive and jealous in comparison to tevinter nights. I don't mean that he's being mind controlled, but it's a bit like cyrian, a god just amplifying those negative emotions in you and promising power and glory can push a person to that edge and to make stupid af decisions.

im also not forgetting that zara line in inner demons where she talks about an envy demon. like. why an envy demon in specific...there's THINGS between zara and illario that were not shown

no literally if you get me talking about illario + envy + the possibility of getting him possessed, you will have me here for fucking ever. a non mage doing blood magic (any magic at all) is really weird and interesting to me and i don’t remember an example of this happening before (feel free to correct me tho lol. i’m discounting possessions and dwarves)

i had started wildly theorising after bloodbath that he had been possessed and he was tapping into the fade using an envy demon. especially like you said, zara mentions it, AND because i swear there’s a codex in the ossuary where it mentions an envy demon whereas spite is obviously determination, right? so i thought it was a breadcrumb trail to a big “illario is being influenced and doesn’t even know” reveal— same as you anon like great minds am i right— but i’m not sure there is actually any evidence of that lol. like maybe if you squint but i do believe it was explained away by “oh yeah, and elgarnan let him do special blood magic”

it does also make sense to me that illario can only control lucanis, due to being part of the same family. a bloodline thing, and it is very poetic to me that their shared family connection in caterina is what allows him to control lucanis, even for a moment lol. spite being the extra magical boost that lucanis needs to block that out ALSO makes sense to me so i’m not too fussed abt these details lol🤔

the envyllario in my heart also gets spectral weapons for himself. lucanis gets wings, illario gets talons, PLUS green-purple are complementary colors so it would have been really fun to see them clash with their spirit/demon-powers. the talon thing is also a kind of reflection of his end-goal desire, how envy demons already have those freaky hands, and it manifests as claws and is a much more aggressive, strength-augmenting manifestation (as opposed to manoeuvrability and speed-augmenting that spite’s wings give lucanis.) anyways that's what the diagram above is supposed to be (this is extremely hot to me)

[thebiscuitlabryinth]

Healer Cookie has made a wonderful new friend recently.

He had been in an awful state when they first found him, already half crumbled, and even the miracle worker Healer worried he wouldn't be able to save him. But save him he had, and in exchange, his friend had insisted on staying with them for the foreseeable future. He trails after Healer and assits him in any way he can, very rarely peeling himself away from his side.

Healer thinks it's sweet, growing fond of his new near-constant companion. Black Raisin is not so convinced. She keeps telling him that she has a bad feeling about this newcomer, and she doesn't like the way he's stubbornly cozying up to Healer. Healer does his best to soothe her concerns, reasoning that the attachment stems from his friend's gratitude for his saved life, but he knows how fiercely protective of their village she can be, so it's difficult to dissuade her entirely.

At the very least, his new friend seems to not mind Black Raisin's wariness. In fact, he pays very little mind towards the village at large, busying himself with long conversations with Healer whenever possible.

Healer must admit, he finds his friend fascinating, his conversations engaging and illuminating. When Healer is busy tending to patients, his friend will tell swooping, glorious tales that bewitch the whole healing tent, and often Healer's patients will leave with a fresh appreciation for their new neighbour.

It's the conversations they have alone, however, that Healer finds most interesting. His friend has a tendency to ask the strangest questions out of nowhere, and give the most captivating explanations, with a certain weight to his words that seems to be otherwise absent when they are around anyone else. Questions such as:

"Do you know what a Soul Jam is?" His friend, Plain Yogurt Cookie, asks casually, somewhere across the tent. Healer can hear the lazy flipping of paper.

Healer pauses, caught off guard by the immediate question after just stepping into the tent. He considers it for a moment; the name rings a very faint bell, but he can't actually pin it down to anything in his memory, so he shakes his head. "No, I don't think so. Why do you ask?"

He walks towards the sound of Plain Yogurt's voice with the aid of his staff, reaching out his free hand and making a small grabbing motion. There's the sound of shuffling before a tepid hand meets him halfway, cold fingers curling around his as Plain Yogurt pulls him to sit beside him on the thin bedroll. Healer can do this by himself, really, but Plain Yogurt always insists on helping, so it has become routine by now, to offer his hand and let him lead.

"A Soul Jam is a manifestation of incredible, unimaginable power and eternal life." Plain Yogurt explains as Healer settles at his side, gingerly laying his staff down on the floor. "There are five, and they originally belonged to five great heroes, who were given them by the Witches themselves. But the Witches are fickle beings. They cruelly snatched the Soul Jams back from the five great heroes on a whim and declared them unworthy, even though the Soul Jams had only ever been theirs."

Healer gasps, fully engaged with his friend's unspooling story even though it was sprung on him so suddenly. "Why? What did those five heroes do?"

"Nothing that warranted what they got. Their Soul Jams, the very core of their being, stripped away and them, cast into a suffocating Silver Tree in a faraway continent, sentenced to an eternal imprisonment!" There's grit in Plain Yogurt's voice that widens into a growl, oozing with a bitter anger. He must have some very passionate opinions on this story, because Healer hasn't heard him quite that rough before. "The betrayal! The injustice!"

"How awful." Healer comments sympathetically, nodding his head in agreement. "It sounds like a terribly unfair fate."

"It does, doesn't it?" Plain Yogurt clears his throat, and his voice smooths back out to its usual silky-sweet quality. "But that's not the important part. You see, the Soul Jams were broken apart by the Witches, and their purest parts were scattered across the realm, waiting to be found by the thieves that would become their new holders."

"Ah, so the Soul Jams are still out there somewhere?" Healer guesses, assuming this tale is something of a legendary mystery.

Plain Yogurt lets out a little hum. "Well, yes, but not quite. Actually, the Soul Jams have already found their new holders, but disaster struck and they disappeared in the aftermath." He shifts, leaning closer to whisper to Healer, a smile sneaking into his low tone. "One in particular, the holder of the Light of Truth, fell into a deep slumber, spending his days in a dreamlike haze of ignorance." He leans even closer, and Healer shudders as his breath gently caresses his dough, turning to face him. "Have you really never heard this story before?"

Healer sucks in a shallow breath and, on impulse, clumsily reaches a hand up, searching for Plain Yogurt's face. He gets stopped halfway, his wrist snared in a frigid grip, tight enough to startle him.

"...What are you doing?" Plain Yogurt's voice has lost its playfulness, as cold as his hands. Healer's stomach twists with shame. Plain Yogurt freely and frequently touches him, but Healer has already realised that he does not appreciate the same being done to him. He prefers to initiate, or otherwise lead the contact.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you." Healer offers, ducking his head with an awkward little chuckle. "I wasn't thinking very deeply. You were just so close, and I suddenly wanted to take a look at you."

Take a look, of course, is meant metaphorically here. Healer just wants to feel Plain Yogurt's face, to remember its shape, they both understand that. But Plain Yogurt responds like it was meant literally anyway, his grip on Healer's wrist loosening to something more gentle as he sighs, "You're not completely blind, are you? If you took those bandages off, it would be way easier to get an idea of my face."

Healer has never mentioned the degree of his visual impairment to his friend, so he isn't sure where he got this idea from, but he doesn't focus on that. He can't, because the idea of taking his bandages off and opening his eyes strikes him with a dark dread, anxiety wriggling to life in his chest.

"No, I can't." He says firmly, shaking his head. He doesn't know why, but he knows that he really can't bear to do it, a possible danger that he doesn't want to risk.

Plain Yogurt is quiet for a moment that stretches and snaps, the only evidence that he is still there being the chill of his hand loosely around Healer's wrist. Then, he snorts, tumbling into a poorly stifled laugh. "Awfully eager to hide from the Truth, aren't you?"

Healer doesn't get a chance to fully process his mutter, layered beneath his laugh, before Plain Yogurt distracts him by grabbing both of his hands. Tucked underneath Plain Yogurt's palms, Healer's hands are guided to his face. Healer exhales, carefully spidering his fingers out to feel the contours, the short curling ends of his icing hair. Plain Yogurt's cheeks are lukewarm, just like the rest of him.

"Do you think you deserve the Soul Jam?" Plain Yogurt asks quietly, as abruptly as all his other questions. Healer can feel his lips move against the edge of his hand with each syllable.

Healer thinks about it, slightly confused by this hypothetical question but willing to entertain it. His hands go slack, satisfied with its acquaintance with Plain Yogurt's face and ready to return to his lap, but Plain Yogurt keeps them pressed to his cheeks. Healer doesn't complain, instead letting out a little chuckle.

"...No, I don't think so. If that power really is as incredible as you say, I doubt I would be suitable to wield it. Though," Healer's voice trails off for a second, turning wistful, "with it, I'm sure I would be able to help much more Cookies."

Plain Yogurt makes a noise of acknowledgement, before tilting his head – Healer knows, can feel it through his hands. "And what about me?" He asks, with an odd intensity. "Do you think I deserve the Soul Jam?"

This answer comes easier. Healer smiles, "More than me, at the very least."

Plain Yogurt doesn't reply immediately, but somehow, Healer can feel his gaze drilling into him, along with a dozen others, and he sits a little straighter under the scrutiny.

The tension bursts like a bubble as Plain Yogurt starts laughing, loud enough to fill the entire little tent, shaking its secure foundations. Healer's hands are finally released, and he folds them neatly in his lap. He enjoys the sound of Plain Yogurt's laughter, though he doesn't know what exactly is so funny.

Eventually, the laughter winds down, ending with a huff as Plain Yogurt slumps over against him, resting their heads against each other. Healer startles in surprise, but quickly relaxes into it, sitting still to avoid jostling his friend too much.

They sit there in comfortable silence, the sounds of the rest of the villagers tapering out as the night begins to creep in.

"...Have I ever told you about the Spire?" With their heads together like this, it feels like Plain Yogurt whispers directly into Healer's mind. His tone makes it clear that he knows he never has, the question rhetorical.

Healer answers anyway. "No, I don't think so. What spire are you talking about?"

"My Spire." Plain Yogurt replies simply, a smirk carrying his words. He begins to gesture dramatically with the arm not pressed against Healer's side - he can tell by the sudden jostling. "It's an absolute marvel, I tell you! Its' peaks are as tall as the sky itself, stuck in a perpetual night. There's the Yogurt River, and the blueberry bushes, and the apple trees in the courtyard. There are rooms by the dozen, and staircases that lead nowhere and everywhere, and cards that come alive. A place of splendorous chaos, holding the secrets of the universe!"

Whimsical pride plumps Plain Yogurt's voice, and that alone is enough to make Healer smile as he continues to describe the majesty of his Spire in excited, hushed tones against the end of Healer's brow.

Awe warms Healer like a hearth along with a spark of shame as he finally gets the chance to murmur back, "That sounds like an impressive place. Confusing, but impressive."

"Right?" Plain Yogurt grins. "Much better than this old dump, anyway."

Healer's smile stutters slightly. "Well, we all do our best with what we have here." He defends, voice steady, pulling away just a little. "If you have a place like that to return to, why haven't you? You sound very fond of it, and you've recovered enough to travel at length again."

"What, do you not want me here anymore?" Plain Yogurt teases, with an audible pout.

Healer sighs, shoulders relaxing again. "No, of course not. I like your company, but I really am curious."

"Mmm, I wonder. Maybe there's something keeping me here." Plain Yogurt suggests with a mockingly singsong lilt to his voice, one that isn't quite familiar to Healer. Healer jolts as Plain Yogurt's arm sneaks up around him, pulling him back into his side, but his head falls comfortably into the crook of his shoulder anyway. Plain Yogurt's short, soft curls brush against the side of his face, cushioning him.

"One day, I'll take you to my Spire, my dear." Plain Yogurt says in a low, strange tone, burbling like a pot about to boil over, and it is both a gentle promise and a threat of some kind.

"That sounds nice." Healer means it, even though he knows he doesn't plan to leave the village any time soon. Not when there are Cookies here who need his miracle healing.

Healer is not stupid. Though he sometimes find it a little unncessary, the villagers call him the Wise One for a reason. He understands Black Raisin's wariness of his new friend in particular.

Plain Yogurt is hiding something, and probably something big. Healer doesn't need to see him to know that when it is clear enough in his crafted voice. Besides, the state of their little village is not an enviable one. No traveller would want to stay past their strained welcome, especially not one who has somewhere as magnificent as that spire supposedly waiting for them.

But, regardless of whatever secrets Plain Yogurt may have, Healer doesn't believe he's malicious. He treats him too gently for that, his cold fingers cradling his hand every time he insists on helping. And his stories, told in such a lively tone, are always able to lift his patients' spirits. Why would he bother with all that, if he truly had ill intent?

No, Plain Yogurt can't be malicious, so Healer sees no reason to force his secrets out of him. If they continue bonding, they will surely surface eventually.

And if Healer is somehow wrong about this, if he really is malicious, then... well, it's better this way. Better for his attention and potential wrath to be focused entirely on him. Healer can take the brunt of it to protect the rest of the village, and it would be perfectly fair, since he had been the one to advocate for Plain Yogurt to be allowed to stay in the first place.

Ah, Black Raisin would be upset with him if she heard him say that, but it's true enough, isn't it?

That won't happen, anyway. Plain Yogurt is suspicious, definitely, and knows something Healer doesn't, but that is not an inherently dangerous thing.

For now, they can sit cuddled together on this thin bedroll and enjoy each other's company. Healer has no need for the past he doesn't remember, nor the future he can't see.

All he needs is this present, cozy in the fledgling night with his friend's lazily hummed melody coiling around him like a musical snake.

[next]

[technically-human]

Merthur AU except the crown prince of Camelot is weirdly pro-magic

[biasomnia]

Chat, I have realized something while watching one piece (currently at the start of marineford)

If you give me siblings that love eachother deeply.

That would sacrifice anything to keep the other safe,

and no mater what happens, no matter if they fight or argue,

will never stop loving the other.

[a-stars-art-blog]

🎸🦈

Sooo…KlavRyan/KlavDar/DaryKlav????

[koifishhies]

I love how Poseidon’s lesson about ruthlessness turned from something he was imposing to something he was trapped in.

When Odysseus says, “we’re both suffering, why not leave this here?” he doesn’t say “I won’t,” he says “I can’t.”

I wish in six hundred strike Ody would have used the line “the next time that you dare choose not to spare” or any callback to “remember them” because it would have been such a good loop. Such a good way to say to Poseidon that there could have been another way. But instead, he’s stuck here of his own doing, with this monster of his own making, being tortured over and over again. Because ruthlessness isn’t mercy. It’s damnation.

[sonknuxadow]

i really hope that sonic racing crossworlds has a lot of dialogue like team sonic racing did because theres so much potential for fun interactions between characters who dont get to interact much or have never officially met at all with the amount of characters that are in this game

[peridots-pixiwolf]

in honor of TF2's sweet sixteen and repostober, one Pyro from just about six months ago 👍

@friendlyengie since i heavily referenced off your pyro here! Hope you don't mind me tagging you, your stuff is cool and I'm a big fan of your femfortress designs especially :]

[one-pissed-off-child]

hey. hey guys. hi yeah. what if it's not Ada who dies? what if it's Prospero? Y'know. the one person Annabel considers a Proper Friend? What would that do to her? What would it do

[smokszyvverstar]

Sweet Chanterelle, if only you knew what you will risk, what you will give, all to keep your kingdom safe.

[demonkinguwu]

Ghost Groom Guy my beloved <3

[holeodemony]

Laughing crying choking on my tears why am I constantly haunted by the thoughts of all these tragic little gay men I just want then to be okay for once yet terrible things always happen why they just need to be in each others arms and in my arms I need to comfort them why because they're tragic little gay men and they're stuck in my head and consuming my every waking thought and I'm not okay because they're not okay.

[samijey]

You have a funny way of showing it

[spiderstuffs]

Jayce killing Viktor doesn't do anything for the plot (analysis)

Will we ever talk about how painful and tragic jayvik, and Jayce's character as a whole are when we consider the fact that Jayce killing Viktor does absolutely NOTHING for the story?

I've seen so many people talk about how "Viktor created a paradox" and the whole classic paradox thingy (A person goes back in time and warns B person about future, B person changes said future and then there would actually be no reason for A person to having gone back because B person already changed the future) and whatnot, but

It wasn't a paradox. Mage Viktor telling Jayce to stop his younger self doesn't actually serve ANYTHING for the story. At all. Because it didn't change anything.

What I mean is — As we know, Mage Viktor, being in the top of the piltover tower with the Jayce statue-tree thing, tells Jayce to stop his younger self and yadda yadda, Jayce goes to the commune and kills Viktor. This is what we see when Jayce finds the statue.

In chapter 9, though — we get the exact same thing. As we all know, Jayce goes back to his own timeline after speaking to mage Viktor, and that's when he goes to the commune and kills Viktor. In chapter 9 we're in the original timeline, AFTER Jayce killed Viktor. And EVEN if Jayce killed Viktor, still — we get this.

We get this, and (assuming you watched the show,) after this, we see that Viktor is about to kill Jayce. Viktor has already corrupted everyone. Everyone. And he is about to kill Jayce. But yeah, we knew that, right? It was on the show. But what I'm talking about is:

Jayce is about to die. The world is about to be destroyed. Viktor is about to corrupt everybody, and THIS image above represents that Jayce ends up in the same place. Everyone ends up the same as the future timeline (where everything is dead). EVEN if Jayce killed Viktor. EVEN if Jayce went to the commune, killed Viktor, then fought Viktor alongside Mel in the council room, EVEN after Jayce DID what mage Viktor asked him (to stop Viktor), everything ends up the exact same. Jayce having killed Viktor did NOTHING, because in this moment, we see that Jayce has come to the same place where the tree version of him was. Even with everything he did- nothing changes.

Who changes everything? (as we know,) Our boy Ekko !! Except — he doesn't. Ekko doesn't change anything... at first. In the scene in which Ekko tries to throw the uh- hexcore thing he has?? (not sure what it is), he actually fails at first, and is hit by one of Viktor's dolls in the face.

And as we see in the show, the whole reason why he doesn't fail at the end is his power to turn back time. At first, Ekko fails. We don't get to see what happens when he fails (because the absolute second in which he fails he rewinds back time), but we can obviously assume that Viktor realizes that someone just tried to hit him from the back and he would - well, kil Ekko. But again, we don't get that, because Ekko rewinds time as soon as the machine-doll hits him.

This means. The WHOLE reason why Arcane ended the way it ended, and not in the destruction of Piltover and Zaun was Ekko. Not even Ekko, actually — his ability. That is the THING that saves everything. It is Ekko who saves them all, with his 4 rewinding seconds. His 4 fucking seconds are what do EVERYTHING, because, I REPEAT. Jayce killing Viktor didn't do anything, because the whole world was about to be destroyed anyway, and it is EKKO who saves them, with his ability to rewind time.

So- what does this mean for Jayce? well. it means that Jayce did EVERYTHING for nothing. mage Viktor speaks to Jayce in the hell-au and tells him to stop viktor for nothing. Jayce goes to the commune for nothing. JAYCE KILLS HIS BEST FRIEND, THE PERSON HE CARES ABOUT THE MOST, BELIEVING THAT HE'S DOING THE RIGHT THING- and then comes chapter 9, and he realizes that he did it for fucking nothing, and it turned out the same, and the only thing that saved them was Ekko. Jayce does not save anyone. Anyone — it is Ekko. This is why Jayce is the "Defender of Tomorrow", and Ekko is the "Boy saviour"- Jayce defends them, sure, but Ekko saved them in the end. and it fucking HURTS, man, because it means Jayce went through absolutely EVERYTHING, the pain of having to kill his best friend and person who he cares about the most - just for it to not even matter in the end. it hurts sooo much dude, poor Jayce :(

notes:

I like this. not only because it means that it isn't in fact a paradox- what happened is that through different reasons, the original timeline would've ended the same as the timeline in which old viktor is, and it didn't because of an external factor, rather than the "paradox" itself; and it is a nice break from the usual, classic paradox. it also adds SOOO much more to jayce's character and jayvik overall, it gives it an even deeper layer of tragicness, the fact that jayce killing viktor, in the end- actually does nothing. he does it, and it affects him extremely, but jayce gets to the end and realizes that, everything's the same. he killed him- and for what? it didn't solve what mage viktor wanted him to solve.

though, it's kinda weird to think about because, the reason ekko throws the thing at viktor is because he went to the AU, which would mean ekko from the mage viktor universe DIDN'T go to the AU? but, he's suppossed to be the same viktor, only that he succeeds? there is no possibility of him succeeding if ekko is there, because ekko is able to kill him... which creates another weird paradox... ugh, but i thinkmy point still stands, because that has more to do about if ekko would go in the AU rather than if jayce would've killed viktor. and it is. an entire can of worms i am NEVER openin, and it doesn't change anything about the theory, anyway.

and by the way- i might be wrong about something here. this is just an observation, and from what i've seen i think i'm right? but there might be something i'm missing, so please try not to be rude if there is, and comment politely!

[jenny-ate-ink]

CW: Sonic Movie 3/Sonic 2024 spoilers

Click away and block the "#sonic movie 3 spoilers" "#sonic movie spoilers" "#sonic 2024 spoilers" and/or "#sonic spoilers" tags if you do not wish to be spoiled

-

Imagine you wake up on a strange new planet, so green, with not a memory of who or what you are. You wake up surrounded by these beings who look nothing like you, and they take you quickly into a metal facility where wires and clips are put on you. Where test after test is run.

They find a power within you. A power they want to channel, to harvest. You make them their power.

But none of them look at you kindly. There is weariness in their eyes. A hesitation in every touch. You are alone. You do not know what you are. Who you are. You have no family. You have no friends.

Then she appears like starlight during a cloudy night. A girl, blond and blue with roller skates. She touches the canister in which you have been placed, and you scowl at her before she scowl at you because everyone scowls at you. Why bother with a smile.

But she mocks you instead with so much humor in her eyes.

It goes all so fast after that. Too fast. You forever look back, wanting, longing. It isn't fair.

She looked at you kindly. She called you her friend. Through her, her grandfather came to like you too.

You would pull her on her skates down the halls and listen to her laugh. You would listen to and sing songs with her. You used to watch movies with her. Shared a pillow fort with her. You once even snuck out to see that green world you landed on again, to stare at the moon and the stars you came from with her. She talked about stars and light lingering on. You looked at her and saw one. Saw your star. Your sun. Your light.

You were happy.

It didn't last. Of course it didn't last. What did you expect? What else did you deserve?

They came for you. For your power. Her grandfather pulled both of you along, running, alarms blaring. She looked so scared.

A gun aimed.

"They're children!"

A gun shoved, a bullet redirected.

An explosion.

You remember it, even now, like it just happened. You relive it every time you close your eyes.

She lies too still on the ground, surrounded by rubble. Broken and burned. You hesitate to touch her, to confirm that this is real. You look up to meet her grandfather's teary eyes. She's gone. Your star is dead.

Your name makes sense now. It suits you well. For you may not have been the one to pull the trigger, but it still was your power that caused the explosion. It was your power that lured them in, your power that killed your star and now leaves the world in shadowed in grief.

You're nothing but a shadow. The darkness in the night. The monster under the bed. Your power killed her, which means you killed her, however indirectly.

She said you aren't a monster and you proved her wrong.

You didn't even fight as they ripped you away from her still warm body. You didn't do anything. You couldn't do anything. You just stared at your hands as they took you away and put you to sleep.

For fifty years you relive it. Over and over again. They made a hell just for you.

They took her from you. Your power, harvested and explosively unleashed, killed her.

You are angry. So angry. It consumes you. It festers like an infection, spreading. It fills you down to the marrows of your bones and pumps through you like blood.

You wake up in a world without her. In a world you don't want to exist. In a world you don't want to exist in.

You go to the only place you think of. The old facility. The only place you ever lived in. The place where she died, where your powers snuffed her out.

You find her grandfather there. He speaks of grief. Of anger. He wants revenge, has a plan of how to get it all laid out, and you are the key to its success.

The world that stole her will burn like she did. Your powers will be harnessed and then explosively unleashed. It will kill you, he tells you. It will kill him. A small price to pay.

It's justice that you die by your own powers, by the same powers that stole her away.

You agree. You want revenge. You want it more than anything. And it the end, you'll be with her again. It's perfect. You want this darken world to feel the same pain it has caused you. You want this pain to end. More than anything, you want to see her again. To feel her light on your fur again.

But a family stands in your way. Something red, something yellow, but mostly something blue. How annoying. How infuriating. They have what you lost, and you want to take it from them. It isn't fair.

You see him. Commander Walters. He was there, he was with them the day she died.

Rage. Deep, sickening rage. You strike him down.

Except... he isn't Walters.

Blue. Eyes carrying the same pain you do glare into your soul.

"What did you do?"

You tell him the truth.

"What I had to."

Revenge awaits.

Is this the right thing to do? Is this what she would've wanted?

No. No. They deserve for taking her. This is revenge. This is what you want... right?

You're so angry. Of course it's what you want. It's what you need.

You power the machine. Let it harvest your power.

You're aren't surprised when blue turned yellow, stronger than ever, comes for you. Of course he would want revenge, too. He is the same as you. He understands your pain. The pain you caused him.

He pins you down. You let him. The world will burn regardless, at least now, you will see her sooner. You can be rid of this pain sooner. You can let him get rid of his pain. You owe him this, don't you? This a mercy upon the both of you.

He hesitates. It angers you. You point to your chest.

"Do it! I'm right here!"

The look in his eyes changes. You no longer see your pain and your rage reflected back at you.

He tells you that revenge doesn't fix anything.

Something shaky within you breaks. You fizzle out. Your anger fizzles out. You realize anger had only ever been the secondary emotion. The mask.

You are consumed with grief. Painful, inescapable grief.

You sit with him and look at the world your powers are going to destroy.

It's blue, like she was. Blue, like he is.

He tells you the pain never goes away, but you learn to grow love around it.

The sun, yellow like her hair, warm as her smile, rises.

It clicks.

You remember it, what she told you all those years ago. How the light still lingers even when the star is gone.

She was, is, your star, and through you her light travels forward even now in her absence.

You are the shadow casted by her lingering light. You are her love preserving. Everything she is, everything she was, you decide now with every action. You are her legacy. Her light still shining.

You were, you are, her shadow. You were always meant to follow her, even now.

You let your anger and grief lead you astray. You should have followed her love from the beginning.

She wouldn't want this.

You wish you could tell her that you're sorry, for everything.

You look at the blue, and he offers his hand.

You take it.

It's time to right your wrongs. To follow the path you were always meant to.

You aren't happy. You're still hurt. And you're still angry, still grieving.

But this feels right.

Even as you redirect the bullet of your power aimed at the Earth, there is a strange peace. A feeling of justice. A knowning that you are doing right by her memory. Acting in her honor rather than your grief.

Blue falters, but you persist. You persevere. You push your mistake further away. You can not, you will not, let your pain hurt anyone else anymore. It isn't what she would've wanted. It isn't what you want. Not anymore.

You can hear her laughter even now. Soft and warm like starlight. You can almost hear her telling you to keep going, to just push it a little further.

Maria.

Is she waiting for you?

Your power engulfs you just like it did to her all those years ago.

Maria.

Is she proud of you?

You close your eyes and welcome it.

Maria.

You'll miss her forever, won't you?