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sinisterexaggerator · 3 years ago

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Stars Above! | Cad Bane

Chapter 8

Fandom: Star Wars / Rise of the Empire Era / Post Bad Batch / Post Order 66

Explicit: Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, Gratuitous Smut, Porn with Plot, Canon-Typical Violence, Mildly Dubious Consent, Angst, Tatooine Slave Culture

This chapter: Cad Bane rubs one out / rough kissing / biting

AO3

《 Previous Chapter || Next Chapter 》

Zulara had directly disobeyed an order; she wasn’t sure what would become of her. Kayson had never outright punished her, but there was a first time for everything. She was always docile, quiet, heeding him and his every word, but something had overtaken her - she had to thank the Duros, even if he had failed at his endeavor – it’s the thought that counts.

Her sandals swept the sandy streets as she ran after him; she had ignored the elevated voice of Kayson on her way out. Bane hadn’t made it very far, and the addled girl was still shedding those pesky tears; it didn’t stop her from approaching him.

Zulara latched on from behind, her arms coming around his waist to cross his chest in front. She had captured him, her face pressed against the back of his Nashtah tunic. She gently cradled his lithe figure. Bane had been lost in thought, not expecting someone to dare touch him of all things. He had sensed nothing - felt nothing - though now he was acutely cognizant of something: the damage this might cause his reputation.

He whisked around; forced her loose; took her up by one thin wrist. She gasped aloud; he dragged her forward and to the right. He found a secluded impasse in an empty alley, shoving her against an adobe wall. She cried more tears then, harder, Cad Bane sneering, his lip curling upward to reveal his crooked teeth.

“What de kriff do ye think yer doin’ puttin’ yer hands on me like dhat?!”

It wasn’t that he minded necessarily, but she had tried to show affection towards him in a public place. Not a kiss stolen in the shadows, but a physical display of kindness that could turn around to bite him in the ass. People could spread rumors, talk about him, say that he was losing his callous edge; the girl had easily snuck up on him – it was embarrassing.

Bane was known for being obdurate and unapproachable; it’s what his clients wanted - expected – to remain indifferent was a boon to them. He had a mind to keep scolding her as she tried to collect herself.

“Stop it with de water werks, lil' lady! It ain't becomin' of ye.”

Zulara covered her own mouth; she nodded to him, but she was frazzled, sad, and even somewhat angry – angry that he lost, but not at him - she had tasted a hint of freedom, and it had escaped her just as quickly.

"Yer spinnin' a loop pastry with all dhat whinin'!”

His yelling wasn’t helping; she felt everyone was mad at her, or those who mattered; her master, and the one who had tried to set her free. She thought she owed him something - her unchecked gratitude, at least. “Quit having kittens by de litter! Nothin's wrong with ye."

“I know … I-” Zulara took a chance, she reached out again. Bane had her cornered, but he hadn’t held onto her except with his forceful gaze, what looked like ire present in his ruby eyes. She encircled him, cried into him, yet her tears were almost silenced. His arms hovered by his sides, fingers oscillating; he was confused; trying to think of what to do. Bane had never in his sordid life been put into a situation like this before and he was at a loss, marked by the frustration laced within his voice.

“Kriff, woman! Whadda Ah gotta do te make ye stop!”

Zulara lifted both her hands; she clasped his wrists, forcing his arms around her hips, though he had in some shape or form allowed it. She took a breath, then inhaled his scent, thinking he smelled like dusty leather with a faint hint of carbon scoring - an enticing mixture that drew her even closer.

“Just hold me,” she whispered to him, wanting this moment with him, Bane thinking he had just seen Ohnaka do this type of thing. It couldn’t be that hard to comfort someone, could it?

The Duros stayed quiet but didn’t move, though he turned his head, watching the opening of the alley to make sure no one was spying on them. He was rattled to his very nerve-endings, having encased her soft flesh against himself. She seemed to have calmed considerably by this very act alone.

Her delightful fragrance was overpowering; he felt somewhat elated, though he would never admit to anything in a thousand years in the way of liking this. He would take a blaster shot through the brain first, like the one Boba had tried to give him, though his protective light-weight armored cap and hat had guarded him; it had diffused the blast. Still, his skull had fractured and suffered damage; he wore a plate of durasteel to reinforce his soft spot.

Bane’s hold on her slightly tightened. He closed his eyes for a fraction of an instant, a split second in time that he thought he might regret. His mind was racing at a million parsecs a second. He felt like he had been tricked somehow. Wily Ohnaka had called this girl, and it was then he was suddenly arrested by a newfound, venomous resentment of the man.

Bane’s eyes shot open. Cad pushed her back; he turned on her, folding his arms across his chest. He dwelled on all the negatives, though Zulara had been enjoying it, realizing now that she felt hungry for affection.

As a slave, she was barely touched. No one doted on her except maybe those few friends of hers, and their care was given lightly at the end of drunken nights. The pirate had seemed to take an interest in her, but that was beside the point.

She hadn’t wanted him to let go so soon; she had whimpered at his forceful dislodging of his person. She unconsciously downturned her bottom lip. Cad Bane eyed her from the side, over his shoulder’s peak, noting her plaintive pouting; he wouldn’t permit it to hold sway over him in any way.

“Why don’cha go off an’ find Ohnaka. Betta at dhis kinda thing. Seemed te take a fancy te ‘im, anyway.”

Zulara now understood his hesitance, “But I don’t want to …” Her voice was soft, full of sincerity. She lifted up a hand; she touched him again, explorative fingertips grazing his protective outer layer. He was so closed off to her. Physically, emotionally, and cold in more ways than she could count.

“Dhen what is it ye want?” He turned towards her at the sensation of her upon himself. He swept her hand away, approached deliberately, instilling a small amount of fear within her heart. Zulara kept forgetting who she was dealing with, but it was just so hard to remember when she felt so smitten by him.

“I wanted to… thank you… For-for going out of your way for me. You didn’t have to,” she breathed out, placing the fleshy underside of five digits against his abdomen to hold him back, like an animal that meant to make a meal of her. His eyes had intensified if that were possible, narrowing further into slits to give the Duros a demonic glint, a flicker of something inauspicious lingering within their chilling depths.

“Ye sure dhat’s all ye want?” His voice had lowered; it resonated with unmatched salaciousness; almost scandalous. His words held pure appeal to her abeyant lust now activated, and Cad could sense it – smell it - Zulara couldn’t quell it. It would not pacify, no matter how hard she might try to rein it in.

The girl’s hand snuck up from its idle place, trailing meticulously along his chest and neck. She cupped his jaw the best she could - her eyes stared into his, full of something – menace, perhaps curious, or harboring ardency for her next move. She shook her head, not speaking to him, though she hoped he could recognize it for what it was within the craven look she gave him, Zulara risking everything by being reckless; she just couldn’t help herself.

Cad Bane leaned in close; he wrapped his hulking hand around her throat. He had been careful as he enclosed her, not wanting to crush her windpipe - it would have been too simple – the girl was meek. Her expression faltered; Zulara was overtaken with alarm. “Best te use yer werds, lil’ lady.”

“Zula!” a voice called out from in the distance. Zulara mildly gasped. It was Kayson, and Hondo wasn’t that far behind.

“Perhaps she has run away from you, my friend! Who could blame her?”

“Don’t let them-” she started out, though Cad Bane had already scooped her up. The thrusters on his boots were set aflame by the press of a single button. He held her to himself with one arm along her back and another beneath her legs. The two of them were sent straight into the air together, albeit with expert coordination.

The Duros was able to retain his balance; to recalibrate himself on his internal axis, redistributing her extra weight where appropriate. He was nimble; exceptionally fast; able to steer clear of any and all obstacles, his lanky form adept at aerodynamics as he skirted the rooftops of local businesses, traipsed along their mudbrick tiles, only coming to a halt two streets over, flying low, cutting the ignition and falling with her the remaining three feet down to alit upon the sand.

Bane resituated her on her sandal laden feet, the breath somewhat knocked out of her for how suddenly he had stolen her away, though it would be unwise of her to complain. The thought never even crossed her mind; it had been exhilarating.

Cad Bane had given her more time; he surmised she was in trouble, though not in the traditional sense. She has risked something by coming to him. She had defied her master, rebelling against his recall. He was intrigued, having allowed her to adjust herself.

He listened, not hearing anything, including that accursed Weequay’s voice. He spun around, tacked her down again, her arms like that of a child’s doll; she was a plaything for him to mold.

Zulara managed to find her voice; she questioned him. She had to know why he had even bothered to place that bet, though she quivered under his icy gaze now focused on her, wondering what it must be like to look through a Duros’ eyes. “You tried to gain my freedom… Why?”

Bane left one arm of hers aloft against the wall, the other he allowed to drop for her to control herself as she so wished. He took her chin within the crevice between his fingers; he steadied her trembling, giving her an honest answer. “Favor ain’t much te lose; paid worse. Small price t’take dhat collar off.”

He added something then, out of spite perhaps, having not forgotten that she had sat upon Hondo Ohnaka’s lap – he thought to explain himself. “Don’t let it go t’yer head. Kayson’s an asshole fer acceptin’ ye as winnin’s. Everyone on Tatooine seems te know ‘is business regardin’ ye.”

Zulara was pulled in by him; his husky voice; his stoic nature. She raised the hand he’d freed. She caressed where his nose would be on a human being. She slid it down, allowing it to glide along his contorted mouth. He had meant to growl at her. He wasn’t going to entertain her coyness, her coquettish stroking of his skin. He restrained her once again; her eyes welled up. She moved to speak, but Bane interrupted.

“Never answered me.”

Zulara moved in to kiss him, the Duros snapped his head back along with his leather hat. He taunted her, prepared to make her beg.

“Please …I …”

“Sucha pretty werd rollin’ off yer tongue.” He leaned in close to her, his words a whisper, “only get what ye deserve.”

Zulara looked as if he’d hurt her. The expression across her flushed countenance was one of dissatisfaction and desperation. Cad Bane’s upper lip twisted in amusement; the girl was radiating heat. Her heart was beating two-times faster than at rest – he didn’t have to guess what she wanted then - it was plain as day, or the first light of the dual suns.

He decided to give her another sample, knowing she would only be forced to yearn for more. She would become addicted to him, like that blasted sweetblossom Hondo had perceived she smelled quite like; he hadn’t been the only one to notice.

Bane removed his hand from her right arm; he directed a reedy finger down. He slid it from the curve in her gracile neck to her narrow shoulder, following a path along her skin to skim past her firm breasts, her waist and hips, but not before pinching one pert nipple, it having risen for him. It was a unique, mammalian feature for all genders he observed. Duros didn’t have them, though he found it fun to play around; it was an erogenous zone for most.

His palm opened fully, expanding to its utmost width. Digits came together to grope her sex. Her mouth opened to exude her surprise at his forward gesture. He took the opportunity to insert his motile tongue.

Zulara closed her lips around it – the frigid coldness of it – she moaned against him as that part of his anatomy swirled and entwined with hers. Her appendages were liberated as he moved to fondle the plump tissue of her chest; Duros women lacked in this department which was most unfortunate to him. Cad Bane loved to massage and otherwise laud a nice set of breasts. They were soft; luxurious; better than the downiest of pillows. They were warm, inviting, and at the top of his favorite’s list.

Zulara enveloped his face again in the crooks of her tepid hands. If he were honest with himself, it could be said that he favored this as well. The tenderness with which she attended to him was somewhat disconcerting; off-putting; something he wasn’t used to, and that part of him among his kind was very sensitive.

Cad Bane was no stranger to the females of his species, and to women of other breeds and ilk’s, but he had never dealt with one who was so gentle, so seemingly innocent. He’d taken scores for a ride before release to their respective captors, women who were dangerous, outlaws, and bounty hunters. Girls who played hard to get, trying to seduce him. Sluts and hookers, slaves that were offered to him. Those who would give themselves up on a silver platter were a half credit a dozen, but this… This was different. This almost felt wrong. He would be no good for her – her pretty melody was one of benevolence and mercy towards him – a murderer, by and large.

Just as his thoughts were getting out of hand, she moved one of her own. She squeezed the one upon her breast; it was a silent way to tell him to keep going, perhaps. Cad allowed her to suckle his tongue still joined within. He felt the iciness inside him begin to ebb and wane, the action having roused him further, heightening his eros for her.

His brow ridge furrowed; his eyes constricted in a muted flash of anger - he decided to be rough with her – how dare she make him feel something.

Bane was taller than Zulara by several inches - six or seven – he placed his knee beneath her loins, pinning her against the sandstone wall by one of her thickset thighs. His hand upon her mound roved and slipped under her satin dress. The one molesting her ample breast moved to clasp her slender neck instead. Cad’s fingers found the underside of her sable strands; he clawed into her; he gripped her by the roots of her raven hair. She made a mild sound of protest. He exposed her throat; removed his mouth from over hers. He licked a stripe, his digits perusing and manipulating her undergarments, the silken piece of fabric that covered her plush folds.

Bane nipped her only just, drawing a trickle of red blood, his nearly skeletal extremities parting the lips that existed down below. The girl was wet with her own excess, her lovely aroma nearly too much for him to handle. His fangs traced her flesh, as did his wandering fingers, taking up the moisture at her entrance to saturate a single, tactile member. She made a noise close to a mewl, yet she didn’t try to fight him – she did the opposite - she gave in to his intriguing treatment of her personage by cradling his head against her, softly, rapt with longing him.

He had admired her course curls in passing; hair: another thing he didn’t have. He enjoyed it in whatever form it came in; hers was a well-kempt bed of chiffon fluff.

His tongue lapped at the crimson lifegiving fluid that sustained her before his sneer from earlier returned. He spoke in a drawl, muttering out a question for her. “Still think ye want me, girl?”

Zulara didn’t answer him. Her free arm moved to embrace him around his willowy, yet masculine frame instead. Her neck canted at an angle; she kissed his jawline as he was coiled against her - the only bit of him still left exposed - the rest was made hard to access. He was covered from head to rocket boots.

Bane had liked that too much; he tugged her head back by the hair, forcefully, but not enough to hurt or cause her any undue harm. The apex of a finger skirted betwixt her labia. It found its place atop the conical structure that gave most females of various species pleasure; she was Twi’lek; she was Human; it would be the same for her.

Zulara was forced to look at him, those ever-burning eyes of fire. He gazed into her mismatched hues before his tongue reentered her and slid down her throat; he began to form a pattern just to make her squirm.

Bane worked small circles. He chose to be precise. She was already crooning; begging him for more of his ruinous, rough touch.

He gave her what she wanted - Cad caressed her sensitive bundle of eager nerves - the flower bud that lay behind her lustrous petals. Zulara had never felt something like this before performed by another person. She was new to outside influence, to a man’s inclinations of any sort, including the way he handled her. She was finding she liked all of these things, and that he was spoiling her, though perhaps not knowing it could be any different, or that she preferred his patented approach.

The Duros stimulated her until she was nearly weeping; her tongue had become stationary. It was possible her thoughts were short-circuiting; there was a pause in the electric current that communicated with her brain. She sighed heavily in rapture into his parted mouth; he pulled away to watch the gesticulations of her face. They were delectable; dulcet to him. They abated with her breath – she was like putty in his hands - it had nearly been too easy - heaven sent.

Bane smirked, possessed by something cruel. He pulled his hand from underneath her skirt as he let her loose, retracting his leg to stand up straight; his height was intimidating.

Zulara was left panting, intaking oxygen, and without his aid she slid against the wall. She watched, entranced, as he tasted the sweetness of her off his fingertips, the girl turning her head to blush a shade he hadn’t seen before, or at least noticed. Something stirred – Maker damn her.

“Feelin’ sshy again already?” he nearly hissed, admonishing the sudden change in her disposition, though it was short-lived. He pushed his hat back so that he could kiss her one more time, the nibs of two elongated digits forcing her forward to entertain his lust; her own flavor lingered in subdued notes upon his lips.

She was jelly, just a puddle of sinew, flesh and bone. Not so much resembling a girl, but a mess of complicated thoughts, feelings, and emotions against the earthen stone.

Zulara wondered if it would be possible to love someone like him. Her thoughts were clouded; her senses tingled; her impressionable mind was overcome with something. The Duros was intoxicating.

She moved her mouth when he was finished with her. She meant to speak, but no words came out. Instead, a voice from down the alley - one that wasn’t hers – it was that scoundrel of a pirate, Hondo Ohnaka.

“By de jewel of Haarkan … What have you done tu dat poor girl?”

From his viewpoint, Cad Bane had her monopolized, though she was unsure if his concern was even genuine. His tone of voice expressed a note of worry, though he sauntered forward with a hint of leisure in his step.

Cad Bane turned from her and reached into his pocket. He removed a toothpick, chewed it, then gave Hondo a candid answer. “Nothin’ she didn' like.”

He stepped closer towards the Weequay as Zulara composed herself; he gave a wave of all five of his offending fingers as he curled them inward to form a fist. He brought it down, situating his arms across his chest. Bane glared at him, daring him to say something, though knowing it was in his annoying nature to speak his mind.

Hondo could smell her on him, his mind wandering, wondering what if must have been like to be nestled in her arms as he watched his hand waft. What a wicked way to gloat. He baited him, his own moving to his hip as he stood halfway akimbo, tsking beneath his breath.

“I thought you dedn’t like playing games, Bane. Trying tu win her freedom and her favor? What a bold move on de Dejarik board.” His voice had been kept low; he didn’t want Zulara to overhear. It would be unwise for her to know too much, else their friendly competition be misconstrued. Hondo felt her best interests were at the heart of it, though there was a profit to be made.

“Like de move ye made te pretend naht te know ‘er name? De one where ye gonna werk fer Kayson an’ get 'er alone up dhere on some blasted freighter?”

Bane gripped the butt end of one pistol, gnawing harder on the piece of wood that arbitrarily occupied him. The girl was beginning to stir from her resting place, the leathery lips of Hondo spreading into a smile denoting he had been caught red-handed, thinking he was clever.

“Know ye, Ohnaka. Know ye too well.”

“Touché.”

“Zula!” Kayson rounded the corner, having followed the sound of voices talking. He eyed both men, studying Bane’s quickdraw hand still itching to pull the trigger, though he kept his weapon holstered, staring down the alien who had the guts to give him flack, thinking he better keep his attitude in check.

Kayson turned from Bane; he approached Zulara, close to manhandling her. He took a long, hard look at her, observing the faint bite marks on her neck, the blood that had distilled in tiny droplets, his anger brimming at the surface. He scooped her chin up, turning her head from left to right, inspecting every inch of her available to his cybernetic eye.

He was pleased to find that she wasn’t damaged otherwise; the girl remained intact - but Kayson didn’t – he snapped. “You stay away from her, Bane!”

Zulara protested, pushing Kayson away the best she could. He grabbed her by the roots of her inky hair without putting much thought into it. She had begun to take a step forward towards the Duros, having barely extended one wavering hand to him. She had been stopped in her timid tracks. Her eyebrows knitted; she whimpered out, stumbling to her knees. She succumbed quickly to what would be the start of her unjust punishment.

Cad Bane watched her; idled, sucking the object of his oral fixation, wishing now it was the girl within his mouth again and not that toothpick. He remained reserved as he observed the scene unfold. A burning heat rose up inside him that made him reply with snark, though his bite would be far worse than his bark.

“Funny ye say dhat when she de one found me.”

Bane flicked his wrist. His lariat was withdrawn and extended. It snapped around the bulky alien’s left forearm, jerking his hand off his own slave.

Bane held it; he tightened his grip around it, forcing him forward a step or two as he resisted. His incisors ground against each other before he grumbled out his final words. “Actin’ like ye betta’ dhan me, treatin’ her like dhat. Least she didn’ mind me touchin’ her. Betta ask nice. Fine killin’ ye – remember dhat.”

He released the man, then retracted his tool into his gauntlet. Hondo didn’t say a thing, and Zulara only pined after him as she watched him walk away.

Cad Bane would be damned if he told him what to do, how to live his life, despite this woman being his in theory. He was disgusted by him more so than before, and he would find a way to bring about his downfall, or put a blaster bolt into his head instead, despite that favor being owed to him, despite not wanting to draw any unwanted attention to himself.

Hondo was right about one thing: she didn’t deserve to be a slave.

#Cad Bane #Cad Bane x OC #Cad bane x Original female characters #Star Wars #Clone Wars #Bad Batch #BOBF #Book of Boba Fett #fanfiction #ao3 #smut #star wars smut #My writing

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crystalninjaphoenix · 5 years ago

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New Places

A Stitched Story

JSE Fanfic

Bit of a simple concept, really. With the truth revealed, Jack, Chase, and JJ have to regroup. And meanwhile, Schneep has to deal with his own magical crisis, and things get crazy fast. I don’t want to say too much because of spoilers, but I think it’s fun ^-^ Also google Rot13, Atbash, and Base64 for some fun easter eggs that might just be enjoyable to me but I’m including anyway because screw it it’s my writing. Anyway, even if there’s not too much happening and it looks longer than it actually is, hope you guys enjoy!

Tagging @septic-dr-schneep for inspiring this AU with this post.

Read where it started: Stitched Together | Season One

Also I’m finally starting a taglist for this dfajklfh: @bupine @violet--majesty

It was a lovely morning to be waiting on a doorstep so you could ask the house’s occupants if you and your friends could stay there because the place where you’d previously been staying had been found by the demon who’d been hunting you.

This thought passed through Chase’s head just before he rang the doorbell for a second time. He couldn’t help but laugh, the sound almost hysterical.

Are you okay, Chase? JJ asked. He was leaning heavily on Jack, his ankle still injured.

Chase shook his head. “Yeah, I’m fine. Guess I’m a little...frazzled.” And who wouldn’t be? He’d just found out the monster chasing them was actually their dead friends fused together, then one of his friends turned out to have magic and proceeded to disappear, and now they’d been run out of Jack’s apartment, where they’d been staying, and he’d turned to the last relatively-safe place he knew. Assuming that she’d let them stay, of course.

The door swung open. There was a woman standing in the doorway, blonde hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. She was wearing the uniform of the diner she worked at, so she must’ve just gotten off a shift. For a moment, she just stared at the three men on her doorstep. And then she gasped out, “Chase?!”

Chase coughed awkwardly. “Hi, Stace. It...it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“You’re damn right!” Stacy’s tone wasn’t angry, just bewildered. “Wh—what are you doing here?! What are they doing here?!”

“Long story,” Chase sighed. “Can...can we come inside first?”

Stacy silently stood aside, letting the group enter the house.

The suburban house was relatively small, but it was very neat and tidy. There was a couch pressed against the window, a television against the opposite wall, an armchair, a coffee table, and two tiny bean bags in the corner, one yellow, one pink. Jack guided JJ over to the couch, where they both immediately collapsed.

“What the hell is going on?!” Stacy asked. “I don’t see you in person for months, your friends say you’ve disappeared but won’t tell me what’s going on, then next thing I know you’re back, and whenever you call me you won’t tell me what’s going on or why you can’t see our kids!”

“I told you, it’s dangerous,” Chase said tiredly.

“What—okay, I-I understand that, but if that’s the case, why are you here now?” Stacy spluttered. “If you’re in danger, why’re you bringing it here? The place where there’s a five-year-old and an eight-year old?!”

“I know, it’s stupid, I’m sorry,” Chase mumbled.

Stacy paused. Chase normally would’ve been more defensive. There was something wrong here. She looked around at the group. “Where’s your doctor friend?” she asked.

Chase flinched. “You, um, noticed he wasn’t here?”

“Well, yeah, the other two are here, and you guys almost always travel in a group,” Stacy said. “Is...is something wrong? Where is he?”

“He’s...we don’t know where he is,” Jack piped up.��“It’s a long story.”

“You keep saying that,” Stacy sighed.

“Well it is,” Jack said. “Look, I’m sorry, Stacy, but our last safe place has just been...found out. We don’t know where else to go.”

“...huh.” Stacy ran her hand through her hair, and loosened her ponytail.

“If you kick us out, we’ll find somewhere else,” Chase said.

“I’m not gonna kick you out,” Stacy scowled. “Not now that you’re here. I just—”

“Mom?”

Everyone in the room paused. Standing in the doorway connecting the living room to the rest of the house were two young girls. The taller, toffee blonde one was holding the hand of the shorter, sandy blonde one. Stacy smiled at them. “Hey sweeties.”

The shorter one was holding a plush doll in one hand. Her eyes widened. “Daddy? Is that you?”

Chase waved. “Hi, Lily. Yes, It’s me. Hello, Moira. It’s good to see you.”

“What’re you doing here?” Moira asked, squeezing her sister’s hand.

“It’s complicated, honey,” Chase said. “Me and my friends are gonna be staying here for a while.”

Lily gasped, suddenly looking delighted. “Yea!” She broke free from Moira’s hand, running over to Chase. She threw her arms around him. Chase froze, stiffening. His eyes darted around the room, landing on every adult. Lily was totally unaware of her father’s distress.

Moira, however, wasn’t. “Lils, come on, let’s let them talk for a bit.”

“Aw, okay.” Lily let go and retreated back to the hall, and she and Moira disappeared back into the house.

Chase went and sat down in the armchair, covering his mouth and shaking slightly. Jack stood up and took another seat closer to Chase, though he didn’t move to touch him.

Stacy stared at all of this in silence. “This...this is all so confusing,” she said. “Chase, what...?”

“I-I don’t want to talk about it,” Chase said, the sound muffled by his hand. “Just...can we have some time?”

Stacy nodded slowly. “Alright. You can explain to me later, if you want to. I’ll...I’ll be around.” And she turned and left.”

After a long moment of silence, Chase took a deep breath. He straightened. “Okay. I think we need to decide where to go from here. For starters...” He looked at Jack. “How’d you just instantly come to the conclusion that Anti was Jackie and Marvin? Just...h-how?”

“Um...well...” Jack shifted on his seat. “Me and JJ were talking about this yesterday. I, uh, apparently have magic vision now.”

“What?! Since when?!”

“Since JJ replaced my eye.” Jack tapped the skin under his right eye, the one that was brighter blue than the other. “We’re still not sure why, but it...it means I can sea people’s souls.”

“You can what?!” Chase could only gape at him.

“Yeah. They look like glowing balls of light in people’s chests.”

Chase folded his arms unconsciously, over his chest. “Can...you see mine?”

“Yeah, it’s yellow. And it has these...” Jack shook his head. “I-I don’t know, these groove things. I think it’s because of what An—anyway.” He coughed. “How I knew they were him, was that...I looked at Anti’s soul, and it was a bunch of red and blue...shard-like things. Held together by that green string. You remember that? I-I saw it, and I reached forward, and I pulled it out...and then Anti disappeared and we found Marvin and Jackie. Later, I-I looked at them with this soul vision, and they...didn’t have...normal soul lights. They both had red and blue shards.”

There was evidence that Marvin and Jackie preformed a transference spell before they died. JJ said. It’s black magic. Very black magic. It takes apart people’s souls and switches the pieces around, then enhances them. It will give the two participants special abilities, but at a cost. It must’ve gone wrong, and somehow Anti is the result.

Chase laughed. “Okay. Cool. That’s fine. What...what do we do about that? Ho-how do we get them back?”

Jameson froze. Chase...he signed slowly. I don’t think there’s a way to get—

“Shut up!” Chase shot to his feet. “Of course there’s a way! There has to be a way! They—they’re probably stuck in there! We have to get them back!”

Chase. Jameson leaned forward, trying to be gentle. If their souls were torn apart—

“There has to be a way!” Chase repeated insistently. “I mean, if magic is real, then we can fix this! I-I know maybe you’ve never heard of one, fancy magic man, but you’ve never heard of something like Anti, either! So there’s got to be a way!” He looked at Jack. “Right?”

“Wh—I mean, yeah, of course,” Jack nodded. “That makes sense. Besides, we’ll never know if we don’t try.”

Jameson shank back, looking a little ashamed. I’m sorry. The signs were small. I suppose you two are right. I was just trying... He stopped. You’re right. We need to try.

“Yeah, but first, we need to find Schneep,” Jack said. “What...what happened to him?”

“I dunno, I guess it’s his magic. That he suddenly has. For some reason,” Chase mumbled. He sat back down, shrinking into the cushions of the arm chair.

“Yeah, what is that kind of magic anyway? Where did it come from?” Jack wondered.

Jameson shrugged. I’m unsure for that latter question, but for the former, it appears Henrik can teleport, somehow. Or maybe it’s that he somehow affects the world around him to make regular walking easier for him. Like wormholes.

A hint of a smile drifted across Chase’s face. “Yeah, explain it to him like it’s wormholes, he’d like that more.” The smile faded away. “So, he freaked out and teleported away. Where did he go? How would we find him? He didn’t have his phone on him, so we can’t even take the risk of Anti finding us to call him.”

“I guess we’ll have to find him the old-fashioned way,” Jack figured. “By looking around and walking for him.”

“That could take forever!” Chase gasped.

Yes, but it’s the best we can do, JJ said. He winced. Or rather, it’s the best you can do. I’m afraid that I’m still in no condition to walk around. I do appreciate that you two helped me here, but I would just slow down your search.

“It’s okay, JJ,” Jack reassured him. “It’s best if you just stay here and heal up.”

“Should we start looking for him now?” Chase wondered. “I mean, the sooner the better, right? But we did just get here. Would it be weird to leave right away?”

“I don’t think it would be,” Jack shrugged. “We can just tell Stacy where we’re going, and when we’re gonna be back.”

Yes, I think it would be better to start earlier, JJ added. Who knows where Henrik could be now? He could have gone a long way, and be getting even further.

“No time to waste, then,” Chase said, nodding. He stood up again. “C’mon, let’s get going.”

— — — — — — —

With no further ado, Chase and Jack went back out onto the streets of the city. The morning was clear, with a few wispy clouds high in the sky. It was an average morning, with people strolling out along the streets, going about their various business. Chase and Jack would occasionally stop one of them, asking if they’d seen a man who looked similar to the two of them. None of them had.

They stopped for a break around noon, the spring sun high in the sky. They sat down on the curb of the sidewalk. “Should we get something to eat?” Jack asked. “We’ve been out for a while. And we didn’t exactly have a good breakfast.”

Chase shrugged. “I dunno. Whatever you want.”

“Well, I don’t want to go somewhere just for me,” Jack said. “So are you hungry?”

Chase just shrugged again.

Jack stopped talking, looking at Chase and frowning. Something was up, he could tell. Chase was being pretty...passive. “Are you okay, dude?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Chase balled his fists, scrunching up his pants.

“You don’t look fine,” Jack pointed out.

“Well, I am.”

“No, you’re not,” Jack insisted. “C’mon, you can tell me what’s up.”

“You wouldn’t care about what’s up!” Chase suddenly burst out. He gasped, hand flying to cover his mouth.

Jack was left speechless. “...what?””

Chase suddenly stood up, quickly walking away, down the sidewalk. Jack didn’t hesitate to follow, rushing to catch up.

“Chase?! Chase!” Jack called after him. Chase didn’t turn around, pushing past people on the sidewalk as he rushed away. “Chase! Slow down!” Jack picked up the pace until he was able to reach out and grab Chase by the shoulder. With a yelp, Chase spun around, pushing away Jack’s hand. “You can’t just say something like that! Of course I’d care!”

For a moment, Chase looked like he wanted to keep running. Then he slumped. “I know, I know you would, I-I don’t know why I said that. I just...you have all your shit going on, it feels stupid to bring you into mine, too.”

“No, it’s not. It’s exactly the opposite of stupid. Bring me into your shit. Tell me what’s going on!”

“No, it’s stupid, it really is.” Chase folded his arms, looking down at the ground.

“Well, I’m not gonna drop it until you tell me what’s going on,” Jack said. “So might as well get it over with.”

Chase looked around. There weren’t a lot of people around, and definitely none in earshot. He sighed. “It’s just...you have a cool power, dude. JJ has magic. Schneep has magic, apparently. And then I’m just...here.” He blinked furiously, eyes watering. “I don’t do anything. All that I’ve done is get kidnapped, possessed, get un-possessed, and now I can’t handle anything! I can’t even fucking let my own daughter give me a hug without freezing up! And you guys are doing great! You’ve all had to deal with shit, and you’re not like this! So why am I—just—worthles—” He choked up. And he realized tears were leaking from his eyes.

Jack took this all in, staying silent. His expression was hard to read. And then he stepped closer to Chase, taking care not to touch him. “Chase Brody, never say that you’re worthless.”

“Okay,” Chase said automatically.

“No, I mean it. You think we would’ve gotten this far without you? No! You remember when you shot Anti, despite him still having a hold on you? That was the most badass shit I’ve ever seen! And that was you! You’re amazing!”

“But you guys—”

“No no no, stop it,” Jack said firmly. “Stop comparing yourself to the rest of us, we’re not all the same. You’re right, we’ve all had to deal with shit, and it’s all been different shit. You notice how Henrik avoids going to sleep? Or how I couldn’t leave the apartment for two whole months and outside still kinda freaks me out? None of us are doing great.” Jack shook his head. “And even if it was the same shit, we still would’ve reacted differently. Because we’re different people, and comparing yourself to others only hurts. If there’s any comparison you should be doing, it’s to yourself. And Chase, you are doing so much better. Think of how you were doing a few months ago. You’ve been improving. And yeah, maybe you don’t have magic, but you’re still strong. And don’t you forget it.”

Chase’s tears were still flowing, but for a different reason. “Thanks, Jack.” His voice cracked. “I guess I needed that.”

Jack smiled. “If you ever need it again, just tell me.”

“I-I’ll keep that in mind.” Chase wiped his face on his sleeve. He took a deep breath. “Alright. So, we keep going, then?”

“We keep going.” Jack nodded. “We’re bound to find Schneep eventually.”

Yet, the sun lowered in the sky, the blue faded to pink and then purple, the hours passed, and they still hadn’t found him. They returned back to Stacy’s house, agreeing to look again tomorrow.

— — — — — — —

He didn’t know where he was.

He didn’t know how he got there.

He’d been back in the apartment. Anti had appeared. Anti had taunted them, telling them that he was the other two. And somehow, he knew this wasn’t a lie. Marvin and Jackie had been acting so odd once they’d returned, and he couldn’t...he couldn’t feel where they were, like he could with other people. Now, he wondered if that ability to feel people had anything to do with...what else he could do.

He didn’t know how to describe what happened next. He wanted a weapon, so he reached over and grabbed one. He wanted to attack, to be at the front of the action, and all of a sudden Anti was right in front of him. And so he fought. He fought for the two who’d gone and the three who remained. But it was too much. Things were spiraling out of control. He’d take one step, and suddenly the room reoriented around him, and he was somewhere else entirely. It was spinning around him, he was one place and then another. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t steady himself. His head was swimming. It hurt. He screamed, and then he was somewhere else.

It was a strange place, he knew that much. The texture of the walls were unfamiliar, the furniture in unexpected places, the sound of a construction crew nearby completely different. He couldn’t hear or feel anyone nearby. Maybe it was a living room. In a house he’d never been in.

His vision was different. Well, it was still effectively gone, but that static that he’d been seeing ever since coming out of the Nightmare had disappeared. It was instead replaced with plain blackness. Alright, that was a slight improvement, but why?

He tripped across a wrinkle in the rug, falling to the floor with a cry. He didn’t stand up again. There was probably other things to trip over.

After what felt like an hour, he heard the muffled sound of footsteps. Someone was coming, he could feel it. That got him to climb to his feet. He headed for the nearest wall, feeling along the perimeter of the room. There had to be somewhere to hide, or somewhere to get out, somewhere to get out—

And then the wall disappeared. The sound of construction was replace by tweeting birds and a cool breeze. He stumbled as the floor under his feet became uneven, turning into soft dirt.

“What the fuck...?” He muttered.

“Hey!” Someone shouted. He cried out, turning towards the sound. Someone was coming closer. “This is private property!”

“I-I am sorry, I-I do not know how—how I got—” he stammered.

“Speak proper English, please,” the someone said dismissively. “Stay here while I call the police.”

He yelped, backing up. He felt the prickly branches of a bush dig into his back. No no no, this place wasn’t good either, get out—

And as he was backing up, he tripped over something else, falling over what felt like a wooden chair and landing hard on a carpeted floor. Suddenly, there were a lot of voices. And he could feel a lot of people nearby. They felt different.

“What the hell?!” “Jesus, that scared me.” “Um, Ms. Mae? I think—” “Unauthorized teleportation—” “—supposed to have a smoke effect?” “What’s up with his eyes?” “—don’t recognize him.” “Sir, are you alright?”

Too many people. He tried to stand up, and somehow rammed his head into something. He yelled, withdrawing.

“There’s a bookshelf there, sir,” said one of the voices. “Are you alright? Can you...wait, can you see us?”

He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head. Not here, somewhere else, not here, somewhere—

And the world shifted again.

And again.

He wasn’t sure how much time was passing, but it had to be a significant amount. He’d stay in each place for as long as thirty minutes, or as few as thirty seconds. Never anywhere he recognized by touch. Sometimes he’d get his bearings enough to try and find the room’s exit, or walk down the sidewalk, or figure out exactly where the hell he was. But the world always shifted again, even if he didn’t want it to.

Sometimes there were people. He tried not to stay there too long. They’d think he was crazy. Sometimes it was a room, sometimes it was outside. Once there was water lapping around his ankles.

Where was he?

Where were the others? He had to find them. He had to find out if they’d gotten away from Anti, or if he needed to rescue them. Not that he was sure he could, with the world constantly changing. Sure, he’d managed to stab Anti once or twice, but that might’ve been beginner’s luck. Didn’t mean he wouldn’t try, though.

He was outside again, on a sidewalk. The air had cooled down significantly, and he could feel less people around. The sound of the cars passing by were less frequent. Time had passed.

No, he was in a noisy building, people shouting, dishes clattering.

No, he was in a wide-open space, instruments playing discordantly.

No, somewhere boiling hot—

No, somewhere with the ground kicking up sand—

No, somewhere quiet—

Somewhere loud—

Somewhere soft—

Sweet-smelling—

Grassy—

Cold—

His heart was about to pound out of his chest. His mind was swimming, a lightheaded feeling. There were swirls of colors swimming before his eyes. Patterns of phosphenes.

Ticking—

Crashing—

Dizzy—

Heavy—

Too much, too much, too much—

Something broke.

He saw a hospital room, a single bed surrounded by medical equipment. There was a man in a snap-back cap, sitting on the floor like he’d been knocked down, and another man in a ragged white coat, staring down at him. His expression was a combination of shock and anger. “I do not you would forget so easily,” the man in the white coat said. “But maybe I am mistaken. If what I have seen you doing is what I think it is, then maybe your mind is missing entirely.” “Wha—no, I—oh my god, you’re alive.” The man in the cap stood up, looking a bit dazed as he looked the other up and down. “We all thought the worst—I mean, we never gave up hope—well, ░▒░▒░▒ got close, I think, but maybe that’s just the pessimist in him. And there was that fucked up postcard back in March…but you’re back now. You’re back.” He smiled, a small expression filled with relief.

He was in the middle of a dark field, city lights in the distance. They were close enough to make out buildings but too far to walk to. A man in a black cape and purple and white mask was walking. His hand was held up high above him, blue crystallized lights dancing around his fingers, illuminating the area. He spun around, looking for something. He said something under his breath, and the blue light flared, shooting out. Something laughed. “You talk too much,” said a voice, seeming to come from everywhere. The man spun around, blue light twirling away. Shuffling movement in the darkness, and then there was something, something gray and smiling and with blackened sharp nails, tackling the man to the ground. Something red splashed.

he was standing behind someone, a young man in a button-up shirt, who was holding a ceramic mug in two hands. the man was in the doorway of a living room, watching two other men talk. They appeared to be arguing. “i don’t own a green t-shirt, ░▒░▒░!” this man had his hair pulled back, waves falling down his back. “you know i don’t like them! you can go look in my closet and hamper if you want,i don’t have anything like that.” “well, who was it, then?” this one had a snap-back cap and a dirty jacket. “what, are you saying that someone was pretending to be you—” the man in the doorway suddenly paled. he dropped the mug he was holding, and it shattered upon the floor with a loud crash. the other two turned to look at him. “░▒░▒░▒░? are you alright?”

Ur jnf yvfgravat gb na nynez evatvat guebhtu gur nve. Gur juvgr-jnyyrq unyyjnl jnf yvg hc bayl ol erq rzretrapl yvtugf naq n fgenatr terra tybj. Gurer jrer gjb svtherf va gur pragre bs gur unyy, bar ylvat ba uvf onpx, gur bgure xarryvat arkg gb uvz. Gur bar xarryvat jnf cerffvat qbja ba gur bgureâ€™f fgbznpu, jurer n qnex fgnva jnf fcernqvat npebff gur oyhr fuveg. â€œFuvg, unat ba, whfg unat ba,â€ gur bar xarryvat fnvq. â€œV xabj fbzrbar jub pna uryc, jr whfg arrq gb svaq uvz.â€ Gur bar ylvat qbja tebnarq, naq bcrarq uvf rlrf. Fbzrguvat jnf tybjvat juvgr. â€œFghcvq nynezâ€¦â€ Ur ernpurq hc, unaq gerzoyvat. Fgenaqf bs juvgr yvtug pheyrq nebhaq uvf nez, gura fubg njnl, jenccvat nebhaq n obk ba gur prvyvat. Gur zrgny pheyrq nf vs vg jnf pynl orvat gjvfgrq. Gur nynez fgbccrq, naq fbzr bs gur erq rzretrapl ohyof ohefg, envavat qbja tynff naq yrnivat gur fgenatr terra tybj nf gur bayl fbhepr bs yvtug.

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

“Stop!”

He gasped, and suddenly everything was still. Very still, in fact. Almost unusually still. He couldn’t hear anything nearby. He couldn’t smell anything nearby. He couldn’t feel anything other than the ground beneath his feet. But he could feel something...someone? Were they the source of the voice that shouted “stop”?

“Gods, was not expecting that. What’re you doing? How’d you get here?” The voice sounded familiar...but also different.

“I—I—” He couldn’t answer either of those questions. “I do not know. I-I am sorry if I upset you.”

A short burst of laughter. “You didn’t upset me—well I mean, I am kind of busy right now, but I can take a break to figure out what the actual fuck you were doing.”

“Doing? What—where am I?” He realized he was shaking a bit. Nerves, maybe. Or exhaustion. From whatever that had been.

“Hmm. You can’t see, can you? Otherwise you’d be having a stronger reaction than that.” Footsteps approached him. “Here, let me just—”

He felt hands on his head, pressing fingers into his temples. And then he felt something else, some kind of tingly, static sensation. He yelped. And then suddenly, he saw himself. Not from the perspective you would expect, but like he was looking through someone else’s eyes at himself. He could see the scars under his eyes for the first time. Then the perspective changed, like someone was looking to the side. And he saw...lights. Tiny green orbs of light, extending off in all directions, for forever, against a black sky. They were reflected across the horizon, but he wasn’t sure if that was because the floor he was standing on was reflective, or if the floor was transparent, showing a void all around. He gasped, and the hands were withdrawn. “Where am I?” He repeated, in a hushed voice.

“...how do I explain this?” the voice muttered. “Alright. Do you play video games? You likely have a few friends who do.”

“Um...yes, I have friends. I play a few games, I suppose.”

“You know how a level of a game has a map? The map makes up the environment, and it’s made of all the various assets the game has.”

“Yes.”

“You know how, in some games, if you do just the right thing, you can glitch outside of a map and into the empty space beyond? Where you can see the whole map from a new perspective.”

“I...yes.”

“Well. Welcome to the empty space around the map, Henrik.”

Schneep gasped. “How do you know my name?!”

“I mean, I guessed you were one of them.” The voice sounded casual. “The accent gave it away.”

Schneep shook his head, backing away from the voice. “Is—is this real? Am I having a hallucination?”

“Why, do you have those?”

“Someti—that is none of your business!” Schneep snapped. “How do I get back to where I was?”

“Good question, normally you wouldn’t be able to.”

“What?!”

“But the fact that you were glitching outside and looking at other ones is a good sign that you’ll be able to. Though, judging by your reaction and recent memories, this is a new thing for you.”

“You looked inside my—?!” This was too much. Schneep fell to the ground, collapsing to his knees. He covered his mouth and tried not to hyperventilate.

“Oh, I shouldn’t have done that, should I?” The voice asked. “I just thought it would be helpful if I understood where you were coming from.”

“How is this happening?” Schneep whispered weakly. “Jameson, he told me I had magic, b-but I did not think—! It would be like—! Wh-why do I even have this? What happened to make it?”

“Another good question.” The voice lowered, like he was also sitting on the floor. “Well, it sounds like this isn’t something you had your whole life. Were you exposed to any kind of magic for an extended period of time? Say, a few months.”

Schneep immediately started nodding. “I-I got stuck. In this place called...the Ni-Nightmare.” He shuddered. “It was for months.”

“Well, shit. You have to get your soul ripped out to go there.” The voice fell silent for a while. “So, I’m no expert, but I can give you my best guess. Your soul probably got used to being outside your body, and while it was in the Nightmare, it began to adapt to the new environment. Once it was returned to your body, it settled back in, but the properties it picked up started to seep into your body as well. It would probably lay dormant for a while until you needed it to start acting weird, probably triggered by stress or something. And now, I’m guessing everything’s hit the fan for you.”

Schneep nodded. “It was like...everything around me was changing. I could not control it.”

“Of course you can control it.” He could practically hear the voice rolling his eyes. And moderation, of course, so you don’t end up glitching too far. I mean, eventually you would’ve drifted off, bouncing between other worlds. You’re lucky I stopped by.”

Schneep paused. “Who are you?”

Laughter. Chillingly familiar, yet somehow...more relaxed. “If I told you my name, you’d probably recognize it. But I probably shouldn’t, in case the me in your world isn’t as nice. Never mind that, though.” A shuffling sound, like the voice was standing up. Then the voice grabbed Schneep’s arm and pulled him up. “I think it’s best if you don’t stay here. Just in case there are more effects.”

Schneep shook his head. Everything was moving fast. “H...how would I get out of here?”

“Well, you got in, didn’t you? You can get out, if your powers brought you here. You just need to control them.”

“How?” Schneep asked in a small voice.

“You start by not controlling them.” Schneep’s expression must’ve shown, because the voice chuckled. “Abilities like this are part of you, if they’re anything like mind. As much as your arm is part of you. Do you make an effort to ‘control’ your arm? No, you just think about what it’s supposed to do, and it does it. Glitching to other places is just an easier way of walking. Think about where you want to go, and go there.”

“What? It cannot be that easy.”

“It is. You might need to practice, though. But for now, just relax. If you freak out, it’s likely that your powers are gonna freak out too.”

“I think I figured that out,” Schneep grumbled.

“Yeah, that’s probably how you ended up here, huh?” The voice sounded like he was smiling. “Just take a deep breath, and think about using your powers to get back where you came from.”

Schneep hesitated. “What if it goes wrong? Are...are you going to give more advice?”

“If you don’t go back to your world, yeah. But once you’re there, I can’t follow you. I can access the In-Between, and my own world, but nothing else without concentrated help. It’s one of the few rules I follow.” The voice shifted, now sounding a bit irritated. “Now can you hurry? I said I was busy, and unless I want some black magic kitty causing havoc, I gotta get back to that.”

“Okay, okay.” Schneep considered asking about that, then decided it was a better idea not to. He took a deep breath. Just think about it, huh? Alright. He wanted to go home. He imagined a doorway opening in front of him, and on the other side was where he wanted to go. He took a step forward—

And ran his shins into a coffee table.

He cried out, jumping backwards. Okay. Alright. This was better. He wasn’t in that weird...place anymore. He reached forward, bending down to feel the surface of the coffee table. It was wood, felt fairly big, and there was an indent right in the middle.

Schneep froze. That wasn’t just an indent. He recognized the feel of the knick in the wood. He ran his fingers over it a few more times, awakening a long ago memory. One time, Marvin had visited his apartment, but neglected to tell him he would be practicing throwing knives. He dropped one right on the living room coffee table. Schneep had ranted his ear off that night about how the blade had left a knick in his table.

How many times had he ran his hand over that dent in the wood? Especially after he’d thought his friend had died...he wasn’t about to forget the feeling of it, no matter how long it had been.

But he had to make sure. Schneep stood up, feeling around the edges of the room. Yes, there was the glass wall to the balcony. There were the houseplants in the corners, now dried up and dead from neglect. There was his second coat hanging off the hook near the door. He’d ended up home.

Schneep sat down hard on the sofa. So. Maybe that voice’s advice wasn’t too bad.

It had been...a long, long day. An absolutely insane day, in fact. He needed to process all this. He lay down across the cushions, staring into nothing. His vision was back to blackness. Which he didn’t mind, in comparison to the static. If that was part of his new abilities, he’d take them all.

Okay. Start with processing the simpler-to-understand stuff. Anti was back. Doing alright so far. Anti was actually Marvin and Jackie—nope, that one needed more attention.

Some part of Schneep knew they’d always been dead. He’d seen their bodies. He’d examined their bodies. You don’t come back from that. And even if they somehow magically recovered for a bit, he knew they weren’t the same. He’d figured out by now that he could feel people, which must’ve also been part of his powers. But he could never feel them. They weren’t people anymore. They were ghosts. Remnants.

Schneep wiped away at the tears suddenly trickling down his face.

And now, all that was left of them was Anti. Anti, the worst parts of each of them, now hell-bent on tormenting them. Maybe if they got rid of Anti, Marvin and Jackie could finally have some peace. In whatever came next.

He reached vaguely to the side. He needed a weapon, something suitable for defeating Anti. And surprisingly, his fingers wrapped around something. He pulled it back, feeling the item over with both hands. A pair of...scissors? Odd, but he supposed they were just a pair of knives attached together. He tried again, reaching to the side, this time thinking about a knife. And this time, he grabbed a kitchen knife. Huh. Apparently, he could summon things now, too. Though...was he actually just reaching through some kind of wormhole to grab something from somewhere else...?

Schneep shook his head. He’d figure it out later. For now...he was tired. And again, he needed to process this. He set the scissors and the knife down on the nearby table.

They needed a plan. They needed to be together. And Schneep needed more time to adjust to these new abilities.

So that would be what he’d do next. He’d figure out how to use these powers to their best, find their strengths, weaknesses, and limitations. Then, when they came for Anti, he wouldn’t know what hit him.

With a sigh, Schneep closed his eyes. Yes, he’d be prepared for that day. It was coming soon.

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