Chapter Text
The Furthest Ring collapses.
Dream bubbles crack and fall apart; the constructs that have sustained imitations of life past their points of relevance break beneath the dueling forces of time and space. Ghosts die in droves. It is not so different from the mass destruction of reality that had proliferated through the Furthest Ring all the way through your journey through it.
Certain dubiously illustrious figures within this narrative would tell you, at certain points in their multiple lives, that what you are watching is the destruction of fiction rather than reality. There would be a note of panic in their voices.
As far as you’re concerned, though, that black hole looks pretty fucking real.
At the center, the light of what was once the Green Sun wavers, sputters, and spirals away. A story is dying. It will hang in its moment of death for as long as there are people to watch it fall apart.
So dream bubbles pop one by one and the ghosts that opposed Lord English spiral to their double-deaths. And at a safe distance from the strange black hole that swallows the space between universes, you watch.
CHOICELESS HOPE.
OR, AN EPIC VRISCOURSE
Terezicourse!!!!!!!!
VRISREZICOURSE KATABASIS* ADVENTURE
*But only sort of.
Your name is TEREZI PYROPE.
You have been searching the depths of the FURTHEST RING for CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND, PRETEENHOOD NEMESIS, TEEN SWEETDIAMOND, and POSSIBLE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE, VRISKA SERKET, for what may or may not have been THREE MONTHS. You left shortly before turning eight sweeps, near what would have been your SEVENTEENTH BIRTHDAY if you measured time the way certain LOSERS in your acquaintance do.
Your palmhusk has just pinged to announce a message that you are almost positive you do not want to read. The chatlog, as it stands, had not been promising.
You recall your most recent conversation with a certain characteristic pain in the ass.
EB: so, like...
EB: in the furthest ring, i guess you can come back to the same place at different times?
GC: Y3S
GC: YOU WOULD TH1NK TH4T S33R POW3RS WOULD B3 US3FUL H3R3
GC: TH3Y 4R3 NOT!
GC: 1T 1S UNFORTUN4T3
EB: terezi, what are you going to do if you don’t find her?
At that point, you conveniently disappeared. This is an advantage of indefinitely floating through the void! There is no telling when you might disappear. If you don’t respond to questions you don’t want to answer, that’s not your fault: it’s just the bizarre machinations of timespace.
EB: are you doing okay? it’s been months.
GC: R34LLY?
GC: TH4T’S SO FUCK3D UP
GC: SORRY, YOU KNOW HOW 1T 1S
GC: WH4T W1TH TH3 B1Z4RR3 M4CH1N4T1ONS OF T1M3SP4C3
EB: they are stubborn machinations.
GC: W3LL, 1’M AL1V3
GC: JUST C4N’T 3X4CTLY 4NSW3R T3XTS ON T1M3
GC: W4S TH4T 4LL YOU W4NT3D?
EB: well, no, not really.
EB: it would be cool if you could answer my question or stop hanging out on the edges of black holes!
EB: but i’m not sure if i can expect that from you seeing as those sound like the actions of someone who’s not a HUGE LOSER.
There are things you could say to that.
There are ways to explain that, as far as you personally understand it, you have returned to the same location at a hundred different points in a universe-rending battle’s development. There are ways to explain that you cannot stop ‘hanging out at the edges of black holes’ because if your conjectures about the battle with Lord English are correct, this is the only place in the entire Furthest Ring that you know Vriska has visited.
There are ways to begin to say that you do not know how much time has passed. Jade Harley had talked to you once about perceptual time, the way that hours can feel like minutes or days. You are good at not feeling unsettled by the strange – you are strange yourself, and always have been. But it's unsettling all the same that the numbers that mark time on your palmhusk stand still, and the only way that you yourself can measure time is the amount of time you think has passed at any given moment; a thing that is never constant. Your perception of time is at once the only version of time that exists here, and not. Time can still run out here. The black hole confirms this.
There are ways to begin attempting an articulation of the way you feel when you hold your glasses before the wreckage, taste their surface, and pick apart every ghost you’ve seen tumble into place you are not yet willing to follow them into, on the wait at all times for one of them to be –
There are also ways to dodge the entire conversation and respond to whatever entry-level blackflirting John is apparently trying for at the end there.
GC: 3GB3RT ON3 D4Y YOU W1LL F1ND OUT TH3Y H4VE HARSH3R COM3B4CKS TH4N ‘HUG3 LOS3R’ NOW
GC: 4ND TH3N 1 W1LL B3 SO PROUD OF YOU >:]
EB: “bluh bluh i am terezi i am so mean and scary!”
EB: “i have never heard of being nice to my friends, it’s not like i’m in space searching for a friend right now!”
GC: OH SH1T
GC: H4V3 1 JUST B33N OWN3D?
EB: you tell me!
GC: 1 4M F4R FROM OWN3D
GC: K33P TRY1NG THOUGH
GC: M4YB3 YOU’LL G3T SOM3WH3R3 N3XT T1M3!
EB: are you leaving already?
GC: W3LL
GC: 1 DO TH1NK 1’V3 H4D 3NOUGH OF LOOK1NG 4T TH1S BL4CK HOL3
If you get a text back, you do not know what it is. It is probably unfair to treat everyone at home this way. You have not been known to be fair for a long time.
You leave the wreck of the battle behind you.
It is safer here.
Further from where the Green Sun once was, the Furthest Ring is made of spreading cracks and disintegrating dream bubbles. Your nose is hit with an intense wave of their iridescent mishmash of colors, and –
– And you remember sitting on the observation deck with Vriska, holding hands as the darkness above you broke apart and bled light; in a space between two universes, not minding a three-year removal from the action, not minding being frozen in time, not minding it at all –
– And you remember Remem8ering, and all of the timelines in which you watched the dream bubbles, still, but watched them alone –
You are pulling out your palmhusk and pulling up the last messages you sent to her – a wall of teal, unbroken by the entry of her color – before you know you've done it. You barely need to smell or taste the words, of course. You remember your fumbling attempts at truth perfectly well.
But that was then, and this is now. Now you put away the palmhusk, try not to revisit the absence of a response, and sniff at the dream bubbles' slow-paced process of unraveling. The intact refuges of Feferi's afterlife thin out moment by moment; this, at least, is linear, even if nothing else is. Slowly, it is all being pulled toward the wreckage you’ve left behind you.
It is likely that Vriska –
You don’t know how much time you have left. You doubt it can be measured in time at all, perceptual or genuine or otherwise.
There were ghosts here, once. You’d spoken to a few of them, even. Now there is only – huh.
Now there is only a whiff of…
TEREZI: 4R4D14?
TEREZI: 1 D1DN’T KNOW YOU W3R3 ST1LL H3R3
ARADIA: not for long, but i am for a bit!
ARADIA: though from your perspective this does not make even a bit of difference.
ARADIA: im making my rounds before i hop in there :D
You think you might have an idea of what ‘there’ is.
TEREZI: 1F 1 THOUGHT YOU W3R3 B4TSH1T CR4ZY
TEREZI: 1 WOULD S4Y YOU M34NT TH3 BL4CK HOL3
ARADIA: bingo!
ARADIA: how long have you thought i was batshit, incidentally?
TEREZI: W3LL W3’R3 BOTH H3R3 AR3N’T W3
TEREZI: 1 4LW4YS THOUGHT TH4T B31NG B4TSH1T SU1T3D YOU
TEREZI: BUT TH1S 1S –
TEREZI: UNL1K3 YOU.
TEREZI: 1 THOUGHT YOUR WHOL3 TH1NG NOW W4S, L1K3
TEREZI: B31NG V3RY MUCH 4L1V3
TEREZI: 4ND 1NTEND1NG TO ST4Y TH4T WAY?
ARADIA: yeah!
ARADIA: you really think this is a *normal* universe-destroying black hole, terezi?
ARADIA: theres something on the other end!
ARADIA: and every way in has a way out!
TEREZI: SO -
TEREZI: 1 THOUGHT 4LL TH1S T1M3, P3OPL3 F4LL 1N TH3R3 4ND TH3Y D13 4ND TH4T’S 1T.
ARADIA: well most of them are already dead
ARADIA: i dont know what happens to them in there!
ARADIA: that would be a very interesting thing to find out 0u0
ARADIA: but i dont think it would be a good way to find her.
ARADIA: im sorry
TEREZI: NO, 1TS NOT –
TEREZI: YOU TH1NK 1’M STUP1D
TEREZI: JOHN 4ND K4RK4T 4ND TH3 OTH3RS, TH3Y 4LL TH1NK 1 –
ARADIA: i dont really think anything about your quest
ARADIA: thats not intended as rude! im just saying i dont have a strong personal investment in it. i want you and vriska to be happy, if that helps!
ARADIA: if you think its the right thing to do then you should keep going. a variety of interesting things could happen either way.
ARADIA: but im actually here to show you something
ARADIA: theres an intact dream bubble here, just follow me
TEREZI: 1 D1DN’T KNOW TH3R3 W3R3 4NY DR34M BUBBL3S L3FT
ARADIA: they’re almost gone! theres just a few :)
ARADIA: like i said, this is my last go-around
ARADIA: sollux is hanging out around here somewhere but i wanted to see you
ARADIA: i guess i thought itd be an ok way to say goodbye for now if im leaving the furthest ring
TEREZI: WH4T 1NT3R3ST1NG TH1NG 4RE W3 T4LK1NG H3R3
TEREZI: 1S TH1S…
ARADIA: will it help you find her?
TEREZI: 1 W4SN’T GO1NG TO S4Y TH4T
TEREZI: TH4T WOULD B3 4 PR3TTY FUCK3D UP COND1T1ON TO H4ND OUT 1F 1 W4S SP3ND1NG T1M3 W1TH 4 FR13ND 1 MIGHT N3V3R S33 4G41N
ARADIA: its okay terezi! it would be weird if you didnt wonder
ARADIA: and the answer is...
ARADIA: maybe!
TEREZI: 1T’S FUNNY TH4T YOU’V3 B33N 4N 3XTR3M3LY V4R14BL3 S3T OF P3OPL3
TEREZI: 4ND NOT ONC3 H4V3 YOU NOT B33N CRYPT1C
ARADIA: cryptic is the just about sexiest thing a god of time can be ;)
ARADIA: come on, though, it’s right up front.
When you’ve broken through the membrane of the dream bubble and she’s led you into the opulent pink-hued room, crowded with the sounds of people-memories you know aren’t really there.
The room definitely smells like trolls; it is also not a multi-troll environment you have ever been able to imagine. They are too unafraid; or the wrong kind of afraid, at any rate.
TEREZI: TH1S 1SN’T 4LT3RN14, OR 34RTH
TEREZI: SO TH3N 1T MUST B3 B3FORUS
ARADIA: yes
ARADIA: the other feferi fancied herself quite a patron of arts!
ARADIA: and we are gearing up for some music
TEREZI: WH4T K1ND?
ARADIA: well, thats up to you, isn’t it?
ARADIA: it is the choice, so to speak, between a ballad and an epic
ARADIA: or to put it more literally, between a song and a symphony.
ARADIA: which, time-wise, is a pretty important choice.
ARADIA: how long will the performance last?
ARADIA: how many directions can it take?
ARADIA: and, of course,
ARADIA: do we know how it will end?
Directions of meaning and consequence have always come far more naturally to you than they would to, hypothetically, other people in other settings, making other seemingly-mundane choices.
The consequences of such choices had once been a manner of simple navigation.
TEREZI: 4 SYMPHONY 3XT3NDS YOUR 3XP3R13NC3
TEREZI: 4N 3XT3NS1ON OF T1M3 M34NS YOU C4N B3 L3SS SUR3 WH4T H4PP3NS 4T TH3 3ND
TEREZI: WH1CH C4N B3 N1C3 1F YOU'R3 SC4R3D OF TH3 3ND
TEREZI: 1F YOU WOULD R4TH3R 3XT3ND TH3 3XP3R13NC3 TH4T PR3C3D3S 1T!
TEREZI: PROGR3SS 1N TH4T 1ND3F1N1T3 SP4C3, OR 3V3N ST4GN4T3 R34LLY
TEREZI: B3CAUS3 SOM3T1M3S 3ND1NGS 4R3 TH1NGS YOU DON’T KNOW HOW TO L1V3 W1TH
TEREZI: 4ND 1F 1T'S 4N 3ND YOU DO L1K3, TH3 PR3SUMPT1ON 1S TH4T 4 LONG3R JOURN3Y M4K3S 1T MOR3 S4T1SFY1NG
TEREZI: BUT TH3 R34L TRUTH 1S
TEREZI: 1T G1V3S YOU T1M3 TO PR3P4R3
ARADIA: yes!
TEREZI: ON TH3 OTH3R H4ND, 1F YOU'R3 SOM3ON3 WHO 1S V3RY T1R3D,
TEREZI: TOO T1R3D, 1N TH1S C4S3, TO S1T THROUGH 4N 3NT1R3 SHOW
TEREZI: OR 4T L34ST SOM3ON3 WHO KNOWS TH4T TH3Y H4V3 TH3 C4P4C1TY TO GROW T1R3D
TEREZI: M1GHT 4LR34DY F33L TH4T T1R3DN3SS S3TTL1NG 1NTO TH3M
TEREZI: TH3 SONG M1GHT B3 TH3 4PP34L1NG THOUGHT
ARADIA: you are quite good at gathering the underlying metatextual conditions of apparently meaningless choices
ARADIA: you might have made a pretty great time player! 0u0
TEREZI: T3LL M3 SOM3TH1NG 1 DON’T KNOW >:]
ARADIA: so which one is it, terezi?
ARADIA: song, or symphony?
Song or symphony, Terezi. Song or symphony.
You See –
There is a world in which you feel your youth acutely, and Earth C pushes you away like the wrong end of a magnet. There is a world in which you look down the longer path and know the dissolution it contains, the near-oblivion. Years of wandering in the empty dark, and the great painful unknown that follows.
There is a Vriska in both timelines, you think. In both, there are things that go wrong for the both of you. But it has only been a year (or a few months, or a few days, or hours) and an ambivalent future in emptiness sounds better, suddenly, than returning to Earth C so soon after you left, than getting her back and having to risk being unhappy anyway.
The urge to hover in unresolved narrative, to hide yourself, tempts you more than it tempts the other you, the one that looks down the path of oblivion, the path of falling into darkness and clawing up from it, and, for once in her life, flinches away.
Neither of you see the full picture. But that’s quite standard, isn’t it? It has always been this way.
… near-impossible to play, but possible all the same. It might be this one. It might be another, one that hasn’t been written yet, one that is equally unfamiliar to a hypothetical audience as it is to you.
You and Aradia sit in the hall, and the music washes over you. It is not the first great convergence of interlocking voices you have witnessed or participated in.
The symphony ends, but it is nice to be able to sit still for longer and listen as it plays out; it is nice to get to wait; it's nice to get to observe. “I should go,” you tell her at the end, and she nods quietly. Stands up.
Without warning, Aradia throws her arms around you. Her body is so warm; you haven’t touched, you think, since you were five sweeps each and playing Flarp. You will think, later, that you should have let yourself hold on longer. She will be the last person you touch in a very, very long time.
For the length of the journey that follows, you will forget that there was a time when you were not tired. In an unknown future, unknown even to you, you might be a hero or a villain, (or neither, or both). You might see Vriska again; there’s a million ways you might, and a million that you might not. In every timeline, it’s at the cost of much.
Somewhere, in the darkness of Paradox Space, the notes of a discordant, unresolved symphony, ever-present if not all-defining, will begin.
– But there is a world (this one) where you look down one long, dark corridor and then down another, shorter, brightly-lit corridor and take your chances with the edge of an ending (as little as you’re finding you believe in the concept of endings or their ‘happiness,’ whether or not it’s offered to you through strange metatextual riddles).
There is a world where, as frightened as you are of the future, of losing and going back empty-handed, or worse, of winning and finding that an abstract end goal can become a reality you’re not ready for, you take your chances with it either way.
TEREZI: L3T’S H4V3 TH3 SONG, TH3N.