Archive of Our Own

riz blinks awake, staring into a dark room. when had he fallen asleep? he does his best to avoid sleeping at all points, especially when he was doing something important. he was doing something important.

why can’t he…

as if responding to a cue, there is a faint buzzing sound and he can almost catch sight of a friend calling for him, their hands splayed across the screen. who are they?

why can’t he remember? the friend speaks up – or maybe she was yelling all along – and for a second he can almost catch the memory of who she is and why he feels so afraid. “wake up, we need you! RIZ! you have to wake up! please, you have to remember!”

she repeats herself three or four more times and each time more and more of the message gets cut off. it comes to around 16.6 seconds before all riz can remember is the buzzing. 

why won’t it stop?

he’s awake and upright in his bed. or – in a bed, anyway. he blearily stares at his surroundings, the faint glow of his goblinoid eyes illuminating the pitch darkness of his room. something’s wrong. riz can identify that by a few factors, notably the complete and total quiet surrounding him, and the fact that he immediately wants to go back to sleep. anyone who has ever met him would tell you how deeply out of character actively seeking sleep would be. 

but he’s a detective. he can recount his last steps. when he went to sleep he was…

it takes him a concerning amount of time to remember. he’s preparing for the new year. his father bought the house – an upgrade on their old small apartment they’d been forced into by financial troubles he’s never really had to figure out. he’s…

he’s a detective, right?

there’s a sound of laughter coming downstairs. his mother’s. he wouldn’t have guessed that they’d still be awake but it’s probably good if they’re celebrating. still, something is wrong. with him, with the world, with something. he’s got a good sense of that. so he can’t just call out to her if something’s watching. instead, he creeps downstairs, squinting ahead at the kitchen where his parents are sat at a large ivory dining table.

since when could they afford that ?

as stealthy as he is, it’s not enough to escape their notice. especially when the lights flicker on in the kitchen and his mother looks up at him with a beaming smile. “riz! kiddo, did we wake you up?”

pok – his father – chuckles and it feels wrong in a way riz can’t quite place. “he can stay up. we’re celebrating. can’t you tell?”

he gestures to the table and a plethora of food that riz could’ve sworn wasn’t there before. it’s a feast. a treat that’s unheard of in the gukgak household. it smells… incredible, like everything he’s ever eaten and enjoyed, like seared meats and smoked fish and the exquisite smell of the potatoes cooked in the style of the Highcourt dining halls. it’s the only vegetable they really eat. 

“come and eat, i’ve been up all night preparing it all,” his mother says. she’s never really been a chef it’s not something she tends to have the time for. he gets the feeling they expect him to be happy, or excited or eager. but all riz can feel is fear.

riz swallows, stepping down to their level. “...what are we celebrating?”

pok spins in his chair, and riz realizes that he looks different somehow than he remembered him. his eyes aren’t large proportionate to his body – they’re huge. and they’re a bright shade of yellow, with a cat-like slit that contracts as he laughs in a laugh so utterly familiar to riz is a way that his father is not.

"isn’t it obvious? it’s a brand new world, kiddo. our gift to you,” the voice that is piloting pok gukgak’s corpse says, a hollow echo in it’s tone, and when she smiles at him in an almost… motherly – or fatherly? – way, the name behind it is on the tip of his tongue. “but hey, don’t judge a product by the first draft. it’s time for you to see it all.”

riz feels the words die in his throat, and all he hears is a subtle click . like the snapping of fingers behind him.

“riz, honey, have you packed your bags?” he hears his mom call out from the kitchen, where he can swear she wasn’t before. whatever, he’s always been paranoid. he just needs to… relax. the sun’s out, and it’s a beautiful day. 

wasn’t it still night, just moments ago?

“uh, yeah, mom! it’s just by the door,” and he looks, and there it is. his very own expensive schoolbag. based on his theories of how acquiring friendship works and how making connections is done professionally, he figures he has at least a sixty percent chance of impressing his peers with his business cards and his backpack, not to mention his designer tailor made clothing. 

there’s a few things that riz’s senses slowly starts to catch up on. one, that the sky’s completely blue today. two, that his mom is making pancakes in the kitchen, and the smell is intoxicating. three, that his father is reading the newspaper at the breakfast table across from him, and listening to a radio show.

his ears perk up as he tries to listen in.

“this is org the frost giant, here with my partner florg the fire giant, florg, how’s the temperature today?”

org and florg, a sort of parody news show. his father and him used to listen to this when he was just a kid. 

of course, neither of them ever fell out of the practice. why would they?

“well, org, i’m-” the radio stutters, the message being overtaken by static. pok looks up from his newspaper and stares at it.

“hon, did you call to get the radio fixed yet?” pok calls out to his wife, still cooking.

the static intensifies and riz just leans forward and picks it up with a frown. he can faintly hear words on the other end, so he figures something must be wrong with the signal… he adjusts the knobs, hoping to see some results. he’s never been much of a tinkerer but…

“ - biased in sayi -” the radio fizzles out from org and florg, and he hears another signal, another voice, this one high, feminine and distinctly fallinese. “calling for… the ball? the ball, do you read me? not much time -”

sklonda speaks up from the kitchen, stepping out into view, a frilly apron on her. “oh, silly me! i need to go visit the thistlesprings anyway, see if they’ve still got my good vacuum cleaner.”

“- it’s a bit chilly!” the laugh track continues, and riz blinks in confusion as his parents continue talking.

“it’s a miracle we’ve got such a genius in the family, isn’t it?” pok says with a grin.

“well, we all know where he got that from,” she playfully slaps him on the arm. “pancakes will be ready in five minutes!”

riz rubs at his eyes, ignoring the praise that makes him feel queasy in his stomach, “um, can i have a cup of coffee instead? i don’t know how much i’m going to be able to eat before i’ve got to leave.”

she looks back at him, and he can feel the concern radiating off of her eyes. “honey, you love pancakes. what’s the matter? did you not get your nine hours?”

riz purses his lips. “actually, i think it’s the opposite. i feel like i slept too long.”

she frowns, walks over and places a hand against his forehead. “well, you’ve got no fever. alright, maybe i can use the leftover mixture when you get back from school.” she gently kisses his forehead, and walks away back to the kitchen.

back from school. freshman year… he’s been looking forward to aguefort for a while. there will be something to spice up his future there, something that’s been lacking. he feels stiff, like he didn’t sleep right on his back, and cracks his neck in a way that’d be disturbing to anyone who wasn’t a goblin. 

he stands up, off the chair, and steps over to the door where his bag is situated. he needs to be packed, he’s got his daggers, his school books, his loaded gun, his banana, arcade tickets… he frowns, picking up a picture frame that seems to have found its way in there. he looks back at pok but he hasn’t looked up from his newspaper since the radio went haywire.

he looks at the picture and something about it is off. like the photo’s been damaged or something. he sees himself, only around ten years old at the time. his mother, just after quitting to become a stay-at-home mom, and his father, dressed in a sharp black suit. 

but there’s a fourth face, blurred and blackened.

“what’s up, sweetie?” his mom says, handing him a cup of coffee. he doesn’t know what to say, he just hands her the photo, expecting her to tell him everything’s fine, because when haven’t they been.

she pales.

“mom, what’s wrong with it?” he asks, anxiety creeping into his throat.

she rubs her head and looks up at him. there’s confusion, panic and disorientation on her face to match his own. “it’s… i’m not…”

the door rings and she snaps out of it immediately, handing him the photo without a word. “that’d be penny! drink up, hon, you don’t want to be late!”

something’s wrong with this picture, but what is it?

he stares after his mother and puts the photo back in his bag. he’ll need to find out later. it’s just a puzzle, like any other, and he’s good at puzzles. he drinks the entire mug full of coffee in one gulp, and it tastes like lukewarm nothing.

penny steps inside the apartment, peering over at riz. she grins and rushes over to give him a hug. she’s wearing a very pretty dress, as expensive as the apartment the gukgaks live in. he hugs her back, feeling relief.

penny is a constant. penny makes sense. “are you excited!?” she says, in her squeaky voice. something about it makes him feel a little nostalgic. “i got you some pens. they’re in the car.”

“oh, you didn’t have to do that. i already have a pencil case full of pens.”

“no, i know! but they’re first day of school pens!” she seems more excited than he is. which isn’t uncommon, really. “are you ready?”

he nods, peering over to the table where his father still reads the paper. his mother walks over, her hands on her hips and a bright cheery smile that riz feels a bit intimidated by. “well, have a good day! and remember to be home before five, you don’t want to miss your aunt kalina!”

that same thought repeats in his brain, and a dread settles in his stomach. he’s always afraid, at least a little. he’s nervous, and jittery, and unsure of himself in some cases and coldly certain in others. but the thought repeats and something about it terrifies riz to his core.

something is wrong with this picture. what is it?

elsewhere, or rooted to the same spot, he feels trapped. all his bleary eyes can see is the oppressive green and black and grey, the smog and dead plants of the forest oppress his vision and he feels almost as if he’s become a part of the rot.

they take notice of him, and his mind scrambles to assign names to the people in front of him. friend, enemy, enemy turned friend, ally. that’s what’s important. red tangled hair and freckles all over her face, eyes that are bloodshot with tears, exhaustion and paranoia.



kristen. his friend kristen. and beside her, a girl, about nineteen, with pale blonde hair and pale eyes, who sneered at him as she took away his friend, who adaine dragged back limply after months of torture by the real enemy.

aelwyn abernant. and the other two… ragh barkrock and ayda aguefort. he doesn’t know ayda well. he doesn’t know if she exists, split between two sets of memories. but he knows ragh. they’re friends, despite the beginning, despite the way he’d branded him with a name that stuck around and he never managed to shake off (that he stopped wanting to shake off.) for just a moment, as kristen starts to approach him, and starts to call out, he feels less alone.

until he spies the cat that crawls beneath the roots alongside him. and then he knows that he’s not alone, and it’s not the comfort he hopes it to be as the cat gently slides it’s claws across his throat and he passes back into the other world.

riz blinks, peering up at the morning clouds. he has a habit, sometimes, of getting lost in his imagination, and forgetting what he was doing when he’s too busy focusing on something that’s bothering him.

he turns to penny, who is rambling about someone named baron, and he can’t bring himself to interrupt her so he just nods along. 

the car that penny was referring to isn’t penny’s, it belongs to her friend, sam nightingale, and unfortunately, riz recalls that it also talks. it’s blue and fancy and expensive, and leaning lazily against her leather chair inside is an elven girl that riz has only met a couple times before, with dark hair and skin that’s a shade somewhere between red and pink.

figueroth faeth. she’s the captain of the cheerleading team and the student council president. somehow, she’s on the school’s website, and riz heard from penny that that the school relies on her more than principal aguefort at this point. he frowns. something about that feels off to him, though he can’t rightly tell why.

penny looks up at him, “... and yeah, so then i threw my shoe in the supply closet and they went after it, it was really sweet…” she frowns, concerned. “what’s wrong, riz?”

“hm? nothing,” people keep asking him about that. “sorry, just zoned out. i was listening, though.”

fig flicked her mirror up and riz could swear she caught his eye. she mutters something to sam, and sam turns around to look at penny. “can we get a fucking move on? today, please?”

“eep, sorry!” she gently tugs riz along with her into the back seat. “c’mon, riz. let’s get you moving.”

he and penny are directed by sam to sit in the back seat with a jerk of her head. he’s never gotten the impression that either fig or sam like him all that much, but riz felt like he saw her catch his eye once again. what does that mean...?

sam lets out an exaggerated sigh as she directs the living car forward, “ugh, alright that’s one down. fig, are we picking up your boyfriend or what?”

fig gives an exaggerated eye-roll, “maybe he be won’t my boyfriend for long. he’s been pissing me off lately, he can fucking walk to school.”

penny pipes up, looking surprised. “did something happen with fabian?”

fabian. right.  

“oh, i’m sorry, was i talking to you?” fig snaps, a sharp smile on her face as she turns to look at penny. “it’s none of your business, babes. so stay out of it.” penny looks like she’s been slapped.

riz could swear that out of the corner of his eyes, he saw fig’s eyes flick to him as she snapped at what is… essentially his only friend. he narrows his eyes at her, and despite the extreme reaction to penny’s simple question, she seems to let that glare go unchallenged as she her posture relaxes.

his observations about himself are as follows. when he sees figueroth faeth being cruel, his chest hurts. when he sees sam nightingale sat beside fig, he feels uneasy and nervous. he’s not sure what that means, but he’s sure it’s worth noting.

he gently places a hand over penny’s, and using the secret language they invented when penny was eleven and riz was nine, he writes, ‘ with friends like these…’

she gives him a smile, dejected though it is, it’s something, and she looks out the window. he feels like he should say something but it all feels… disconnected somehow.

the car ride is shorter than it feels like it should be. he hears words floating past, between the three other passengers. or between sam and fig conveniently ignoring the other two people in the car, and they feel like white noise. he’s excited about school. this is something, an end to monotony and the beginning of his life of adventure. that’s why it all feels like fuzz, and static. it has to be.

the first steps of the day begin to blur. there’s so many faces, they all begin to mix together in this one mass of uncanny valley, where he’s sure he’s supposed to remember something about them. the sensation in the back of his head never negates, and the anxiety in his gut never lets up.

trust your instincts. you are a detective. and whether that’s true or not doesn’t matter much in the moment, because he’d like it to be true, and if he has to pretend to make that the case, he’ll do it easily. it helps when, at around lunch time, he arrives at the club he signed up to on the waiver, and he feels more solid within his own body. it’s in an out of the way room, with one central table surrounded by computers on makeshift desks, with a large sign that simply says ‘ detective club’ scribbled on the door

inside are only two people. a tall gangly aarakocra who waves at him cheerily, and an aloof looking tortle who just gives him a sluggish nod. 

“sorry if i’m late,” riz mumbles as he arrives. 

“late? oh no, you’re ten minutes early!” the bird grins. “riz, right?”

“oh! yeah, hang on,” riz reaches into his backpack, bringing out a set of business cards. he slides one across to the bird, who lifts it up with a puzzled expression, and hands the other out to the tortle, who stares at his hand for a few moments before rolling his eyes and taking it.

riz vaguely recalls experiencing that reaction a lot today, and it feels entirely predictable. still… the business cards will help. somehow. “i figured it cuts out the middle man to simply offer my contact information right after making an introduction. that way, you know my name, and you know how to reach me. but regardless, i’m riz gukgak and it’s a pleasure to meet you both. is this the whole club?”

the bird reads it intensely while the tortle just snorts. “yeah, you’re looking at the whole club, dude. i only joined here cuz like… nobody fuckin’ bothers you, you know.”

riz blinks. that seems like a deeply irresponsible reason to try to solve crimes. “who are you?”

the bird raises a feathered hand. “that’s shellford! but wow, these cards are so professional, you’re like a real detective! maybe you should be in charge. i’m skrank, skrank douglas! consider me your personal deputy. and since i got your number right here, i’ll just shoot you a quick text!”

riz smiles. he can’t quite explain why he feels unnerved, but he suspects this place won’t provide the clarity he seeks, all the same.

no. that’s quitter talk. “well, in that case, i have a mystery for the both of you.”

he pulls out a blank notebook as skrank and shellford share a puzzled look.

“you see, since this morning i’ve been –”

the door swings open with a creak behind him and he turns around, immediately feeling his heartbeat quicken. 

figueroth faeth beams down at him from the doorway, a tall dark skinned half-elven boy beside her who looks thoroughly bored about being here. he recognizes him as fabian, fig’s boyfriend, and he can’t stop himself from staring. fig clears her throat as she speaks up. “well, it’s good to see you’ve already made an impression, riz! skrank, sheffield, could you please give us the room? we’d like to have a chat with your newest member.”

skrank looks confused, but nods and stands up to leave. meanwhile shellford glares at fig before staring daggers at the floor and shuffling out, mumbling something about his name on the way. riz doesn’t think anyone else notices, but he sees the way fig’s smile curls slightly as they leave. fabian wordlessly closes the door behind riz’s two new assistants and for one reason or another, riz feels as if he’s trapped in here with the two popular kids.

“does he always have to walk so fucking slow ?” fabian drawls with a roll of his eyes.

“don’t be so harsh on him! that’s practically sprinting, what with his little fucked up stumpy legs,” fig giggles and steps forward with a casual air riz finds unsettling more than anything. she reaches forward and ruffles his hair like he’s a little kid. “how’s your first day going, rizzy?”

rizzy?

“fine,” riz shrugs, trying to stay casual and failing because he’s… himself. “how... is the first day of junior year going for you?”

...that’s the year she’s in. that both of them are in, actually. he’s done his research. wait, asking too many questions… “also, uh, do you guys want like, a drink? or something? i think i saw a cooler on the other side of the room.”

fig chuckles and fabian stares at him flatly, distinctly unimpressed.

“aguefort’s standards have really gone to the dogs, haven’t they?” he mutters, below his breath, and riz gets the impression that fabian allowed him to hear his cutting remark.

fig however, sits on the desk that skrank had been using, wiping feathers off the wood with a look of slight disgust. “shut the fuck up, hon, you’re already on my shit list, remember. but it’s going lovely, rizzy , thank you for asking.” she claps her hands. “now! i’m sure i don’t have to tell you what this is about. we’re in the final days, just one more to go! do you think you’ll be all set up by the end of the month?”

...he is at a criminal disadvantage here. and something needles him at the back of his head, like he almost recognizes what she’s talking about and doesn’t like being pressed. but despite his commitment to truth, he’s not incapable of obfuscation. 

“yep. all looking good. why? everything okay on your end…?”

fig grins, devilish and sharp and something about it makes him feel lonelier. “oh, we’re good. i just wanted to give you the deadline. it’ll all be fuckin’ fireworks soon… so long as you do your part, anyway. that goes for you too, babe!”

fabian looks up from the spot in the floor tiling he’d been staring at to wave off her statement. “oh, i’ll be fine. it’s the rest of those losers you’ll have to worry about. it’s like they’re all mumple transfers or something, eugh.”

fig sighs. “well, somehow i think you’ll manage. ‘cuz if you don’t i’ll make you regret it, okay?” 

“perfectly,” fabian says dryly.

“anyway, rizzy,” she turns her attention fully back to him. “just be sure you’re ready to upload them to here. our lovely abernant gave you an upgrade, after-all. these computers should be ready to hold enough space for the whole transfer.”

riz scratches his jaw. he’s still thoroughly lost. “i’ll thank her when i see her next.”

fig, fully satisfied, stands up. and fabian, eager to get out of the room just opens the doors and walks out without waiting.

it’s as fig is leaving that riz finds himself blurting out a question.

“is this all weird for you too?” he says quickly, before he can even think. and then, as his brain enters a panic state, he feels the need to keep digging. “i don’t mean – not this this , but have you noticed anything weird about everything around us like… today?”

fig’s expression shifts from one of polite confusion to a glare, sharp and cold, both at once, and riz feels the blood in his veins start to chill.

“don’t ask stupid questions. it’s way to late too turn back, riz. if you’re too chicken-shit, we’ll just toss you aside and replace you with someone who can actually get it done,” she smiles tightly. “now, if you’re done annoying me with redundant bullshit, we’ll just forget that slip of yours, won’t we?”

he feels his frown deepen, and part of his spirit sap away at the bitter harshness of her tone.

“yeah. i guess we will. sorry, just… bad dreams.”

she narrows her glare further before turning and walking her way out. “just be back before kalina gets here.”

there’s something so wrong with this picture. riz feels the mantra repeat in his head. and if you don’t spot it, you will never find your way out.

the rest of the day passes by as a blur. the classes are monotonous, confusing and thoroughly mundane. his mind is getting louder, and he thinks he’s a bit closer to unlocking it. he swears, sometimes, as he walks past the faces of strangers that he recognizes, that he can almost see a glint of yellow in their eyes.

he’s paranoid enough that he can’t mark it down as his imagination. 

he’s stepping out of the bounds of the school and he feels… less certain of everything, but closer to the truth. it’s the first real comfort he’s felt all day. and at the front of the school, he spots fabian, leaning against the railing, with a boy about a foot taller than him, gangly but strong, with hair that’s swept back in a way that suggests he’s trying to look more secure in himself. 

gorgug thistlespring. member of the owlbears bloodrush team, alongside fabian. he doesn’t know any of the positions, but riz is familiar with that much. his sight lingers on the two of them for longer, and he feels fabian’s eyes flicker over to him, and for a second he detects a spark of… something, before fabian quickly looks away.

gorgug catches it, even if nobody else does, and he tenses as he stares at riz with visible clenched teeth, like he wants to attack. 

riz doesn’t spare them another glance. he’s got bigger problems to deal with than a high school bully. 

as he leaves, he can feel both of them staring now. fine. this day’s pretense of being somehow normal has long since ended.

he takes the bus back. if there’s a car here to pick him up, he doesn’t trust it. his notebook is a lot more full now, with scribbled notes about ‘penelope’ ‘sig figs’ ‘night yorb’ ‘the shadowcat’ ‘the ball.’ none of it makes sense yet, but… maybe it’s about to.

opening the door to his house, he feels a distinct sense like something has changed since the last time he was here. that sense hasn’t exactly been rare since he made the mistake of getting up this morning, but…

his father’s still at the table, still looking at his newspaper, idly, with nothing animating him. and the radio’s continued playing that exact same show.

“well, riz, i’m blessed to say - this is the ministry of adventur - this is gorgug, keep going! - it’s really raining cats and CATS out there!”

riz raises his pistol and shoots the radio with a loud almost explosive sound. it fizzes out, the sound becoming distorted before it finally fades to nothing.

pok doesn’t look up. his mom’s nowhere to be seen. yeah. something’s wrong with this picture. 

“dad? gonna react?”

he remains silent. riz swallows a lump in his throat, a hint of bitterness to this bad taste in his mouth.

“guess that makes sense.”

it’s only when he starts to hear the loud echoing of her clapping that he realizes how long he’s been watched, and only when he sees her manifest almost from the shadows like she split off from the dark itself.

kalina, the shadowcat smiles a big bright gleaming smile, full of the sharp teeth of a predatory animal. “hey, kid. miss me?”

riz turns the gun and shoots at her with a sneer. he can’t say he’s surprised when the bullet passes through her without collision and she just quirks a brow.

riz shrugs. “worth a shot. where’s my mom?”

“sklonda? oh, she’s fine. just needed to be… written out for a bit. she’ll come back later, i promise.” 

riz narrows his eyes. written out? like she’s some kind of prop? he has to shove his boiling rage down, and even though he knows it won’t do anything, training the gun on her brings him some sense of stability. “what’ve you done to my head? what is this place?”

kalina chuckles. “well, i made some adjustments, kid. nothing too noticeable, but you were always looking a bit harder, weren’t you? though, i must say, if you really want to find that precious truth of yours, i have three locations you should probably check. bloodrush field, abernant home and the arcade.”

“why would i listen to you?”

there’s a certain sadism in the glint of delight in her eye. “because i’m all you got, kid.”

he’s about to argue more, he’s almost tempted to just try shooting her again. but he blinks and she’s gone. he feels sick. he always feels sick when she’s around, poisoning him with her words and manipulations but no, none of that has happened here. memories cross his mind of a kindly aunt who gave him gifts when he was young, was there for him when he was sad - he was never sad, gave him advice about everything that has to do with growing up and…

his head is killing him. the radio whirrs to life. “...applebees, was it?” more static clouds the signal and riz feels his vision starting to blur and his muscles starting to slump. 

“what’s up – oh shit, he’s stirring! hang on…”

a rough gravelly voice comes in. “hey, i’ve got him, you just do your thing...”

riz opens his eyes, though they’re not his eyes as he’s staring directly at his body, held in ragh’s arms in a backdrop of black moss and tangled trees and an aching painful void that’s replaced the solid and reliable bedrock of reality.

aelwyn stares down at riz, putting two fingers over his eyelids and forcing them open, and staring back at the both of them are kalina’s pupils.

“let’s wake you up now, detective boy,” she says, her voice carrying a hint of both exhaustion and victory. and within a moment she’s casting a spell, something he can’t even recognize but he can make a guess, as he can almost feel second-hand, the way that she’s reaching into his head and ripping things out. and slowly, his eyes start to change back to their usual yellow, rather than the sickly green of the shadowcat’s.

his head is killing him, but aelwyn is done, and ragh moves away. leaving aelwyn to go back to where she was, sitting next to adaine’s still slumbering form. riz isn’t sure of what he’s here for, but he knows he can feel ragh’s arms, and kristen’s, and ayda’s. and he knows that when the both of them look up to the centre of the forest, instead of the nightmare king, there is just a colossal skeleton. a cat’s skeleton.

there’s a new sheriff in town.

riz wakes up to a world clearer, more stable than ever before, and he’s sure this time that when he stares up at the colourless ceiling of this strange dining room, he’s looking through his own eyes. oh, and also he’s on the floor.

the memories are flooding back now, to replace the ones kalina left in his head. they had their benefits, but he’s made notes on his observations so far. all he has to do is connect the dots. or, he’ll do that, when he feels like his head isn’t making a valiant attempt to kill itself. he needs coffee.

god, he hopes he can taste it now.

“mom?” his voice croaks out. there’s no answer. “dad?”

there’s nobody. he’s alone.

good. he crawls to his feet, in this empty house free of the homunculi that kalina built in a mockery of his parents, and through the blinding pain, he grabs a stack of papers and starts frantically taking notes like he’d been starved all this time…

he finds out from a couple of texts from skrank that he’s missed a day of school. that’s fine. he texts skrank back to say it was a family thing, and leaves it at that. he’s not interested in playing the role that he’s been put in by kalina.

but he’s at school today, though he’s skipping all his classes. it’s only now that he’s able to just watch the halls, and the way that everything moves in a symbiotic hivemind, nobody bumps into one another, there’s no interruptions, only the uniform walking of strangers. kalina has preferences. riz has understood that for a while.

it’s easier to understand, considering that as he walks across the school and heads over to the bloodrush field, he spots a black cat staring at him from one of the windowsills of the school. of course. he stares up at it, turning and giving it a hiss.

the cat doesn’t react, so riz continues on. there’s a few kids coming out of practice and talking, and riz has to clear his throat to get their attention.

“morning, gentlemen. where might i find fabian seacaster and gorgug thistlespring?”

they look amongst eachother, then at him, seeming puzzled by his meer existence within their vicinity. “uh, yeah they’re just over there.”

they jerk a thumb pointing at the field, where riz can squint past them and see the two of them getting talked at by the coach. hm. riz can’t quite describe his reaction to seeing the same coach he shot in the back of the head standing up and teaching at school again, but it’s… certainly surprising. there’s something wrong with his face, but riz figures he should avoid him, for now. he nods.

“thank you for your help,” and brushes past them as they turn to look at him in bewilderment. it’s fine. he’s already deduced that whatever symbiotic system is in place here, he and his friends are decidedly not a part of the crowd.

riz takes a seat at one of the stands, poking his head up above the first row of chairs to watch. he can only vaguely hear the conversation happening in the centre of the field and - oh, that’s what’s wrong with him.

daybreak still has a hole in his head. hm.

“i can’t tell you how proud i am of all this, kid. you’ve far exceeded your father. by the time we’re done, nobody’ll even remember his name.”

that part rings out loud and clear to riz, and fabian grins brightly at the praise, in a way that makes riz feel queasy. he never liked seacaster, but it doesn’t change the sickness he feels at seeing all of his friends mangled and twisted into these… caricatures. 

“hey, just remember, praise the nightmare king,” that’s another sentence he hears daybreak utter and riz feels his ears twitch. that seemed to have been directed at gorgug who agrees with a nod and a smile.

this is wrong. luckily, daybreak seems to have finished with his cult leader routine and turns away, stalking off to go put away the equipment. good. it just makes the gaping hole in his skull all the more evident.

if riz were a different kid, he might be more disturbed by the flash of pride he feels at his handiwork. but he’s not. fabian and gorgug, meanwhile, are making their way in his direction, chatting amongst themselves.

now or never. riz clambers over the stands and hops down in front of them. 

“fabian, gorgug. i need to speak to you both privately.” 

they look at eachother, then at him. they’re bewildered at the fact that he’s speaking to them at all, apparently. riz feels a flash of irritation flare up. 

“oh my god, would you get over yourselves already? we have work to do. come on,” and he’s grabbing both of them by their wrists and dragging them underneath the bleachers. 

“hey, let go of me!” gorgug barks, ripping his hand away, a flash of his barbarian rage rising to the surface. from just riz’s observations that seems to happen more often here.

“let the ball speak, gorgug, he’s clearly got quite a lot he wants to say,” fabian meanwhile, tears his hand away from riz and looks down at him with faint amusement. riz isn’t sure if he should hiss at him or thank him, but at least gorgug seems to simmer down.

“thank you, fabian,” riz sighs. okay, he can do this. these are his friends, and it’s his responsibility to save them, from kalina and from themselves. he fishes out a notebook, opening it to the page he needs. “okay, i’m going to start listing names, and i need you to tell me if you recognize any of them. this is very important, for all three of our sakes.”

he waits for a response, an eyebrow raised. gorgug looks at fabian, fabian shrugs, sighing dispassionately. “sure, fine, whatever. this better not be a waste of time, though.”

riz rolls his eyes. “it won’t,” and he’s firm on that. “penelope everpetal.”

they share a glance, no recognition.

“ayda aguefort.”

that one makes them furrow their brows, but they don’t speak up. hm. riz makes a mental note of that.

“aelwyn abernant.”

“well, there’s adaine abernant, right?” gorgug speaks up and fabian shoots him an angry glare. riz nods.

“i’m familiar.” he continues.

they’re hearing him now, and they don’t like what they’re hearing. 

“ragh barkrock.”

that sparks a flare of anger in both of them but fabian puts a hand on gorgug to cool him down. hm.

“kalvaxus, emperor of the red wastes.”

the anger rises.

“tracker o’shaughnessy.”

and rises.

“kristen applebees.”

and gorgug’s hand is grabbing him by the front of his shirt, and riz can see the telltale signs of rage that’s been practically injected into him by kalina. “what’s the point of these fucking questions?!” 

he recalls that confusion is a constant source of anger for gorgug. hm. but if gorgug is in the role that riz suspects… that rage has probably only been built up. 

fabian, to his credit, puts a hand on gorgug’s shoulder and wrenches him back, giving him a stern glare, before turning it to riz. “yes, i think i would like to know that as well, thank you.”

riz grimaces. “what’s the first thing you remember? what’s your worst memory? what’s the name of your adventuring party? how well do you know me? where did the name ‘the ball’ really originate from? what comes after spring break? fabian, how well do you see out of your left eye?” 

they both just stare at him blankly.

“fabian, gorgug. you have to remember me, in some… subconscious way at least. we’re the bad kids, right? something is wrong here. it’s up to you to figure that out and come to terms with it, but i can’t do this on my own. this is hell, this life you’re living in. you’ve got to see that, right?”

he feels kalina chuckling in the back of his mind, and if she were here physically he’d have shot her.

fabian stares, listening, thoughtful, and judging. he approaches riz, and for a moment, riz is hopeful.

and then riz is being shoved to the ground.

“stay away from me, freak. i’m not going to let you gaslight me about what i know is true. the coach believes in me, i don’t need your approval,” he curls his lip into sneer. 

gorgug, glad for the reassurance, chimes in with his own guttural growl. “yeah, nothing you’re saying makes any sense! i know who my dad is now!” 

fabian grabs gorgug by the arm, sparing one last glare toward riz. “my girlfriend needs you for our plan. but i don’t care one way or the other. so i’d suggest you back off from me and my buddy. c’mon, gorgug, let’s go get some ice cream from that place poor people love to frequent.”

gorgug nods, turning away, leaving riz in the ground, stunned and reeling from… all of that.

he doesn’t know whether he’s hurt or betrayed or angry or sad. he doesn’t know whether to blame them or blame kalina or - no, he definitely can’t blame them. it’s kalina.

and speaking of the devil so often prompts her to arrive.

“did you think that would work, kid?”

“shut up,” riz can’t even bring himself to get up off the ground.

“what did you think would happen? that just saying it all out loud, all this confusing contradictory nonsense, that’ll just cause them to believe you over what they’ve come to rely on? it’s cute, but…” 

“i said shut up!” he growls.

“kiddo, look at me.”

and despite himself he does. and she’s sat just in front of him, an arm outstretched and resting on his shoulder.

“this isn’t going to be something you can just fix easily. and hey, even if your friends have turned their back on you, you know it’s not your fault. it’s nothing to do with you. besides, it’s not like you’re alone. i’m here, and believe it or not, riz, i’m rooting for you. sincerely.”

riz feels sick.

she smiles a sardonic smile. “ah well, i can’t expect you to understand. just… don’t lose your spirit so early, okay?”

“i won’t. this is just another reason i need to kill you,” he snaps out. 

“heh, attaboy. c’mon, up and at ‘em. you’ve still got two more locations, don’t you? you’ll come around. they all do, in the end.”

and in an instant, she’s gone. 

he finds the abernant home on fantasy google maps. he’s only ever been here once, when they were poking through aelwyn’s things. a few weeks later and it was in cinders, with adaine’s disgusting parents out of town in an instant. 

part of him wants to just curl up and fall on his sword, but he’s also far too stubborn and far too spiteful to do that. fabian’s rejected him before, been cruel to him for little to no reason. gorgug… never has. but it’s a bit easier, when the lines are so blurred between him and ragh, who has absolutely lost his head and been cruel to him.

adaine…

he doesn’t want to think about it. peering up at the abernant home, it’s particularly jarring to see it here at all, considering how long ago it came crashing down. but he encountered a dead bloodrush coach just an hour ago, so what does he know.

he makes his way up the steps and knocks on the door gently. the wood’s expensive, and he’s been yelled at by fabian enough to understand rich people care about that shit. 

the door cracks open, and on the other side of it is adaine, in a more tailored uniform, rather than the hand-me-downs she wore when the two of them first met. she has a fitted and elegant grey turtle neck sweater and a blue jacket that looks almost like it’s made of silk, the kind of thing riz would compulsively bite.

“ah,” she says, a polite smile on her face. “i was wondering when i might hear from you.”

“you were expecting me?”

she nods. “kalina… she told me. we shouldn’t speak in the house, come on, i know a place.” 

riz frowns, peering inside past her. the abernant parents were nowhere to be seen, but from what he knows of them that’s not too uncommon.

he nods. “sure, whatever you want.”

“excellent,” she traces arcane runes with her fingers, and her eyes begin to glow as she draws an outline of a doorway just on the front lawn. before he could even say anything, she’s grabbed him by the shoulder and pulls him through the dimension door with her.

they come out inside a church of some kind. riz vaguely recalls that this is the one kristen kept obsessively trying to make them go to, back when they first met her and her solution to her crisis in faith was to simply convince everyone around her until she could convince herself. 

instead of the iconic symbology of helio, however, there’s images of moons, and wolves, and all the motifs of the goddess of the moon, galicea. it only makes sense, he supposes. though, there might be something there worth considering.

adaine looks at him, a small smile ghosting her face. “this is the temple of galicea. sort of a central hub of the elven people in elmville, nowadays.”

“...nowadays, huh,” he grimaces. 

she nods, her smile turning a bit sardonic. “yes, the current order of things. you wanted to talk, right, let’s talk.”

“how do you know kalina?”

adaine blinks, then scratches her chin. “it’s a bit of a complicated question, honestly. she reached out to me when i was younger. and then there’s the story you’re familiar with, right?”

riz tries not to get his hopes up, but he does anyway. “...so you remember? what the world used to be like? that we were…”

“friends?” she smiles, warm. “we still are, riz. but… if you’re asking me if i remember everything…” the smile drops in favour of a confused and conflicted frown. “i remember some parts, i think. not all of it. some of it i’m not sure i want to.”

riz feels his insides start to twist. god, this is terrible. “why not?”

“there’s no point dwelling, is there?” her tone grows a bit more tense.

“on what? trying to save the world? what about your sister?”

adaine opens her mouth, but closes it. she clutches at her arm, which riz knows is a nervous tic she does when trying to beat back anxiety and panic creeping up. fear. that’s what it’s all about.

kalina only works in fear. 

“riz… what are you planning on doing?”

he stares at her, furrowing his brow to communicate how utterly stupid that question is. “what else can i do? adaine, have you seen the state of everything? we need to destroy this… pantomime. and go back to what it was.”

the look she gives him has a trace of coldness. “and that’s just your decision to make?”

riz feels his insides boil. “if the alternative is to just leave things the way they are, then yeah.”

she seems to get angrier. “and things were so great before? with your dead dad and my parents and… my sister, the way she…” a look of guilt crosses her, and riz wishes he could entirely disregard it. “look, it can be… i have a lot here, a lot that i never had before. you do too, don’t you?”

“no,” riz says firmly. “things were bad before, yeah, but they were better than this. they were always better when we were friends. this isn’t you, adaine. this isn’t any of you. it’s just what she’s trying to mold you into.”

adaine’s eyes can’t meet his for a long time, but she can mutter under her breath. “that’s not your decision to make either, riz.”

“and it’s not kalina’s. adaine, she molded aelwyn, are you really going to let her mold you?”

she puffs up in anger, her hands shaking. “shut up! don’t say her name, this –” she seems to deflate a little, the anger cooling down into something closer to a bitter guilt. “it’s not about her. for once, it’s not about her. she got everything and i… what? i’m just born to be second best?”

it hurts, to hear it, because it’s so… wrong, hearing all that from adaine’s mouth. maybe, yeah, a year and a half ago when they first met. riz, for one, was never particularly forgiving. and neither was adaine, really. but he remembers, faintly, adaine dragging her big sister out of the dark with her, and he knows that despite what she’s saying this isn’t her. adaine’s not a coward. 

adaine is his friend. and if she’s trapped in her own worst insecurities like this, then it’s worse than he expected.

“fine. i’ll do it myself,” is what he does say, instead. “take care of yourself, adaine. i’ll fix this.”

she’s crying now. “you don’t understand. she always got this, i… i never had a chance, not when she was there. i’m sorry but...”

he turns around, shaking his head. he can hear adaine crying behind him. “it’s fine, adaine. just sit tight.”

“riz, stop, please, you – you don’t understand. can’t we just…?” 

riz keeps walking, shutting the door behind him. he doesn’t want to hear it anymore, he can’t think straight over the heartache. he has one more destination to visit, for whatever the hell kalina’s trying to teach him. 

he stops as he sees a woman in a blue robe approaching, with a pamphlet in her hands. it reads ‘ the death of the moon goddess’ and she offers it to him as he stares. her voice, he unfortunately recognizes.

“have you heard about the tragic end of galicea? how she was slain by her heroic little brother, the nightmare king?” tracker tells him.

riz, rolls his eyes. “oh, fuck off,” and brushes past her without a word.

“understand what i’ve been trying to tell you, kiddo?” kalina says, hovering at the entrance of the arcade, one blessedly silent walk later.

“shut up. stop... talking to me,” riz grinds out through his jagged teeth. 

“c’mon, kid. who else are you going to talk to here? at least i understand what’s going on. better than your friends do, apparently.”

riz feels his jaw clench and an instinctual urge to hiss at her. but instead, he turns and glares at her. “that’s not them. ”

“no?” kalina says, smiling with smug satisfaction. “so… you don’t think your friend adaine ever wishes she could be just like big sis? fabian’s never shoved you aside because his pride wouldn’t allow him to lower himself to your level? fig’s never obsessively sought out attention and affection from strangers with a smile on her face and a sweet little lie to the crowd? and gorgug well… only real difference there is just a matter of stabilizing influences. his parents, well, they tried their best but… i don’t think i need to tell you how that doesn’t always work. just ask your mom, honey.” 

riz sniffs, his hand quivering over the handle of the arcade door, trying to stop himself from crying.

kalina’s tone turns a bit gentler. “look, kiddo. you know i love you. i’m really just trying to set you straight here. that’s all i’ve ever done, help you see reason.”

riz is silent as he wipes his eyes, trying to hide the tears from her in some futile attempt to retain his composure. she smiles sadly at him, and for a moment he can actually believe that in her own twisted evil way, she actually thinks she cares. “...what about me. everyone’s different, why am i still the same?”

she chuckles. “i don’t recall ever telling you nothing’s different about you here. i mean dear old dad is back, right? if you wanna know why you don’t remember everything you’re supposed to… well, the answer to that’s simple, kid. you’re the star of the show. the big man himself. i prepared all of this, just for you.”

“why? what’s the point of...” he gestures, one hand motioning to the world, the air, all of it. “...any of this?”

she laughs louder, the sound sending shivers down his spine before she rests her chin on her hand. “is that even a question? sweetie, i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again. you’re not a stranger, not some… insignificant adventurer dumb enough to wander into our forest. you and me, kid? we’re family.”

“i’m starting to have some concerns about the way you show affection,” he curls his lip in disgust. 

pushing open the arcade door and walking through.and of course kalina follows him, a quiet laugh trailing behind her. because he’d be an idiot to ever assume he could be rid of her.  

the arcade is completely empty, but the machines are all alive. he looks around, squinting at them, seeing if he can find any with the names of any of the maidens this time around. mostly it’s the same, just without the nauseating colour and the flickering spirits of the creatures that biz had bound in the machines to turn this labyrinth of machinery into a maddening spiral.

he zeroes in on one that’s rather over the top, decorated with gold and pink flowers and it proudly displays ‘penny’s petals’ on the top.  “...i saw her earlier, though.”

“saw who, kid?”

“penny? she was in the car with me and… fig.”

kalina’s tail swishes around, and her smile widens. “it’s interesting how much of a quick shot you are with some clues and how slow on the uptake you are on others. have i mentioned that?”

he pales, stepping towards the game in fear. he presses a single copper piece into the slot and it whirrs to life, showing him the pixelated shape of penelope everpetal staring back at him, a gleaming crown on her head and a bright smile on her face.

“hi, i’m penelope! but you can call me penny! help me grow these flowers, or they’ll die!”  she says through the speakers, her voice distorted, barely audible as the music plays. riz stares at the game intently, suddenly feeling his anxiety worsen. he hates this.

“she’s dead,” he says to kalina, the only company he has left. 

“true, true. she’s dead in the world you came from. my recreation isn’t perfect yet, kiddo. you may have noticed some discrepancies involving your dad or the coach. i’ll work the kinks out eventually, and you’ll barely be able to tell,” she gives him a knowing look, her eyes taunting him with secrets in his reach. “but, suspend your disbelief here for me, buddy. why would penelope everpetal be here?”

riz stares back at the game, watching as the flowers die and penelope’s pixelated form seems to decay and disintegrate. 

“help! help! i’m wilting! help! help! i’m wilting!” and then her health ran out, and with an unsettling 8-bit scream she was nothing but ash on the pixelated floor. “wanna try again?”

“she’s not the only one,” riz murmurs, less a question and more a statement. “there’d be six more, right?”

kalina chuckles. “well. close. there’s five. wanna go looking?”

riz turns his stare up at her, struggling to get the sound of that bizarre scream out of his head. “...five?”

kalina’s tail swishes around in circles as she gives him a knowing look, that same smug insufferable knowing look that she gave him whenever he asked about his dad, about all the secrets she knew or pretended to know and he didn’t. he’s not stupid, he knows she’s just letting him run wild with his own conclusions but...

“you couldn’t get one of them,” he concludes, gnawing at his lip. “right?”

she laughs, somewhere between a chuckle and a purr. “i’d say you got it in one, but… you’ll figure it out.”

and with that, she fades into nothing, leaving him alone with the blinking arcade machine and his thoughts.

“i hate it when she does that,” he feels the need to point out, knowing she’s listening. he also hates it when she does anything else, especially when she does it under the pretense of helping him. he’ll step away from this machine and wander further into the arcade. most of the machines are out of order, he notices rather quickly, like this place is in no way ready to be actually used as an arcade.

so it’s not hidden in plain sight this time. it’s being operated as an old rundown arcade that nobody visits anymore, rather than using the active development as a cover. 

he stops at another machine, this one black as night with a streak of red through it like a cut, and riz has a feeling he already knows who will be behind this one. he puts the copper piece in, internally cursing kalina for making him waste money that could be used for stationary or coffee or really anything else, but those curses die in his throat when he watches the screen light up.

zayn darkshadow, in the form of a small pixelated ghost floats and laughs. “mwahaha,” the ghost laughs in horrid barely audible 16-bit audio, “can you make it out ALIVE?” 

and the game begins, displaying a title screen as the countdown begins. ‘Dark Shadows and Mazes’. it’s some kind of maze puzzle, like a few of the old horror adventure games that riz played when he was a kid. or however you divide yourself between the time that you were a child and the time that you were still a child but a child who had experienced the gravity of loss and death. 

riz doesn’t bother playing, just steps away. he’s seen this before. he can faintly hear zayn calling out from the machine. “catch me if you can. you’ll NEVER escape. this world is mine!”

he sighs, looking around the arcade further. the golden hoard, decorated with art of a large dragon smothered in coins. dayne’s blades, some kind of fighting game with a cartoonishly buff version of dayne blayde on the front. rumble road brings up memories of the excruciatingly annoying things johnny and his gang were saying while they were murdering them on the road, so he can take a guess who that’s for.

his eyes widen, more surprised than displeased, when he sees a small machine tucked in the corner with no fancy name or decorations, only a white box entitled ‘biz.’

...maybe that one would be worth booting up. it’s at least different from the others. and unlike the others, biz is still alive. he approaches it, holding a copper out to put it inside.

“there’s no slot,” he says aloud.

kalina flickers back into existence behind him, her arms cross, that same perpetually smug and casual look on her feline features. “don’t tell me you really wanted to see him?”

“the others all have slots for coins – why not this one? you don’t want me turning this one on?” 

she laughs lightly. “put your hand against the screen, kiddo.” 

he squints.

she rolls her eyes, almost affectionate in the familiarity directed at his suspicion and paranoia. “oh, come on, no tricks. we’re too far into the game for that, anyway. just touch the screen.”

hesitantly, he brings up his hand and lays it flat against the screen. and…

“it’s… warm?” riz furrows his brow. that means that it’s already on, or it should anyway. so the palimpsest is already in use.

“you probably didn’t know this, but your seven maidens were only conscious in those crystals whenever someone booted up the machines they were inside, and even then they weren’t fully able to think for themselves. jump means jump, get the coins, dance, race. the works.”

riz’s eyebrows shoot up, the realisation dawning. “...he’s always awake.”

“i thought it was some clever karmic punishment. and you know i don’t care so much for all that. still… as a creature in the domain of nightmares, i have to say… putting him in a box to never be picked up and played with, never being noticed at all, not even having a body or senses to process the deep exhaustion, existential dread and loneliness he feels…” she grins, her teeth as sharp as daggers. “it’s pretty funny, isn’t it?”

“funny?” he scowls.

“you don’t think so? i guess some creative differences are to be expected, your experiences define you and all that,” she shrugs, nonchalant. “all of which can be edited in the final cut.”

“no, funny’s not the word i would use,” he says, stepping away, feeling cold. “deserved, maybe. it’s for the best that he has a taste of his own medicine.” 

kalina blinks, for once actually surprised before breaking into a short laugh. “oh, honey, you really do keep me so entertained, you know that?”

“that doesn’t mean you have a right to keep all of this going,” he gives her a warning glare. the same one he gives to her whenever she lays on thick just how much of a game he is to her. and she responds with the same amused apathy that she always does, with a flick of her tail and a curl of her lip.

he turns away from the machine, surveying the rest of the room. “where would the final machine have gone?”

“does it matter?” her tone makes it clear she doesn’t think it does, but after one flat stare from riz she continues, “well, if you really wanna know, it’d be in the backroom where you found penny back in… you know, your beloved reality. there’s nothing there, no further clues to scrounge up…” she pauses, seeming to flicker in and out of reality until suddenly she sat atop one of the machines right in front of him, her tail circling the air in bemusement. she rests her chin on her paw as she continues, “if you’re interested, since i know how much you love puzzles, kiddo. i can give you three questions. you give me three correct answers, and i’ll answer any questions you want. sound fair?”

he hesitates before rubbing his weary eyes in exhausted frustration. “sure. fine. why not.”

her smile widens. “excellent,” then with the showmanship of a circus cat, she snaps her fingers and the screens of the arcade all light up with the same message, playing the same obnoxious music.

‘WHAT’S WRONG WITH THIS PICTURE (Feat. Riz Gukgak)’, with a small emblem of a cat at the bottom. riz blinks in surprise as all the screens change once again, this time only displaying two words. ‘QUESTION ONE’.

“who goes in that empty arcade machine, riz? answer honestly now, you know what we’re playing for.”

he exhales, deeply exhausted with this entire song and dance. without much thought, he answers.

“aelwyn abernant.”

kalina grins, and the screens all flicker a bright green. riz spares one glance to the remaining blank machine, still colourless, still lifeless. he’s reminded in a very negative way of the first time he and his friends were forced to play games here.

“correct.”

riz begins to regret agreeing the play this game. the screens all change with a sudden click, and suddenly they’re all displaying the same two words. ‘QUESTION TWO’.

kalina tilts her head at him. “having second thoughts?”

riz’s scowl deepens. “yeah, well, when am i not.”

“hey, now. don’t sell yourself short. you’re pretty dead-set on the self righteousness. moving on!” she claps her hands like some kind of circus performer. or her illusion mimes it anyway, considering the sound is all in his head. “question two. who’s running this little puppet show of horrors? other than me, of course. who put all these poor, not quite so innocent people in arcade machines, riz?”

riz knows the answer to this question and it doesn’t stop him from feeling sick when he admits it internally. there’s only one reason she’d make such a production of showing all of this off to him. to sink the knife in his ribs and twist while telling him it’s all for his own good.

he sighs. “me. the me in your specially crafted hell.”

the machines whir to life, making the exact same spectacle as the last question in a way that almost makes riz dizzier than the last time he was here. 

kalina just cocks her head and smiles widely in the way that a predator would when it’s spotted easy prey. “riz, honey. you’ve been to hell. you can’t honestly think that’s what this place is.”

“what would you call it?” he snarls, feeling a feral growl building in his throat. “you’ve brainwashed my friends, toyed with my memories and left me completely alone in playing the role of him .” he cocks his head over to the blank machine, the only one with a still image and no gold in sight.

“oh, kiddo,” kalina says in a way that almost sounds genuine enough that riz wants to throw up. “your friends are happy. they’re only as brainwashed as they wanna be. it’s not my fault that you couldn’t live in this world.”

“ nobody can live in this.”

“your friend adaine would disagree with you there.”

“that’s not–!” not what…? not her? maybe it is, but it’s the lowest, most desperate parts of her and he refuses to accept that. he feels the snarl drop into a discontented scowl, the fight leaving him through sheer exhaustion. “fine. whatever. don’t you have another question to ask?” 

“i do,” she’s not smiling this time, almost seeming a little disappointed he wasn’t going to continue with his angry retort. “let’s skip the machines this time, talk more personally you know?”

riz shrugs, unwilling to give her the satisfaction of showing his relief.

she drops down on the ground, this time not even bothering with making a sound or simulating the collision. her smile returns, this one less smug and more sly.

“where are we, riz?”

it’s a trick question he knows that. he could say the forest of the nightmare king, sylvaire, elmville, any number of questions. but…

“trick question. we’re in elmville, and we’re in the nightmare king’s forest.”

kalina’s might as well be beaming with pride. “well… you’re not wrong, so i won’t rule that. but you say that like they’re two different locations,” she flicks her tail out with a smile. “my roots are spreading, and they’re spreading fast. and maybe, just maybe, they’ve reached your quaint little town of heroes. would that be so surprising?”

“it was always your plan,” he bites back. “so what? i won your game, what now?”

kalina hums.

“unless you want more things i’ve figured out. like the way this world is built off you giving my friends what they might have thought they wanted at one point, but they’ll never make them happy. is that entertaining enough for you, kalina? or how the dead you bring back aren’t actually here , they’re just illusions.”

she raises a brow, surprised. “well, i d-”

“i’m not done. how about the fact that you can only get this far because for some reason, by pure chance, you overruled the nightmare king when they transformed into cassandra? is that correct? this entire thing’s just a shallow puppet show you’ve put on while you have the chance.”

she cocks her head to the side in contemplation.

“you think it’s shallow? that hurts.”

he smiles, cruel. “between the two of us, i’m not the one who’s lied.”

she chuckles. “well, i’ll spare us both the headache of dragging baron out to disprove that. but fine, fine. you’re right. correct on all counts, actually,” he can detect equal parts annoyance and pride in her tone, and in the sickly green of her eyes. but… here’s the thing, while i have control of this, for the brief moment that i can, i can truly irreversibly fuck the world up. or did you think none of this will have actually happened once it all goes back to the way it is?”

dread sits in his stomach. “you’re bluffing.”

“no, no. cards on the table here, i’m not as powerful as i seem. you figured out some of it, i’m a plague that you can be cured of. but illusions are a powerful thing. i can start wars across the globe, make the entire world forget you and your little friend ever existed, just like i did with kristen and aelwyn and ragh and ayda. all those connections you have, hmm? you’re a popular boy.”

he feels his mind racing. “why would you do that?”

her laugh is low and a bit sad. “well, i don’t want to die, riz. if it all goes back the way it is, i get to be… replaced, by another version of me. what i am right now? dead. gone. doesn’t sound too bad from your end of things, right? though, you might miss the solstice presents.”

“you’ll die anyway, though.”

“as is, yeah. but i just need… a little something to separate me from the boss, much as i love the guy, i can’t be getting dragged from good to evil just at their whim, can i?” she leans her head against her knee. “i mean, it already screwed up a good thing i had with mom and pops, right?”

riz crosses his arms, refusing to process the implications about her relationship with apparently both his mother and father. “what’s your point?”

“my point… is that we can both get what we want. all you have to do is make a deal with me, ‘cuz i have some ideas on how we can both come crawling out of this alive, as a family of two. or three, counting dear old ma, right?” her smile returns, any melancholy gone, and in an instant she’s in front of him, only a few inches taller, with her bright green eyes gleaming down at him. 

“i can live, and your world can go back to what it was safely, whenever your friends figure it out, with none of the torment you’ve seen so far. you can rest, instead of living in this hell, as you so charitably called it. it’s self sacrifice, right? you will dig until your hands are bleeding, but i think what i might have been wrong about is why.

“It’s just all you know how to do, isn’t it? the only way you think you can help is by reaching the truth. it’s sad. and honestly, speaking as your godmother, you need the break. and me? i’m willing to help you find it, by my side, as a… co-director of sorts.” and she reaches forward, offering a hand to shake, covered in fur and her claws still unsheathed. it’s only right that her hands hurt. it’s what she is. “all you need to do is shake my hand. all your friends will be safe, your world will be safe, no wars raging, figueroth’s plan for world destruction just completely snuffed out, your mom returned, as herself and not as a cardboard cutout of a housewife, all of it at your whim. you will be too. safe, i mean, with me by your side. as a family.”

riz tastes blood in his mouth, he feels the fight leaving him, and he’s not sure how long he’s gone without resting but all he can feel is complete and total exhaustion. she’s not lying. his insight is high enough to tell him that for once in her life, she’s telling the complete and honest truth about her threats, about her promises of safety. and riz wants to strangle the part of himself that is so… tempted to give it to her.

but that part is winning. he’s not sure if it’s because he’s alone, because she’s done something to him, or because he was just always this weak-willed but…

it’s none of that. she’s had all the power since they got here. if she gives him even a sliver of that, he can turn it on her. he can keep her from coming to life. or he can bring her to life and then kill her himself. or he can… he can do something. it’s better to be pulling the strings of it all, than to be yanked around. that way, at least, the truth would be his to fight for. 

he feels tears rolling down his cheeks, and his eyes get all irritated and puffy. but he takes the hand, and doesn’t wince as her claws dig into the palm of his hand.

“fine. we can both get what we want.” and what i want is your head.

she smiles, warm and motherly, as his hands are stained with blood.

“we’ll be together forever, won’t we?”

the time is 7:30am, and penny luckstone wakes up with a spring in her step, to a perfect new day in a perfect town in a perfect world -