Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Another restless night. She’s had them once a week. This feeling that she can’t let go of. This fear. Of herself. About what she did to a friend. Because of her, he’s dead. And his husband is… Well, she hasn’t seen him in months but knows he is alive. He just isolates in the same room with no signs of ever leaving. How could she do that to him? Leave a man without the person they loved more than anything in the world? All because of an outburst of anger she should have controlled. She’s had these thoughts crawl through her mind every time she struggles to fall asleep. But she’s grown numb to them. She’s spent so much time crying about her kill, that she has no more tears to drop. It has reached the point that her mind now drifts to question herself on being so emotionless. She was never like this. Even after a breakdown, she was just unresponsive and shattered. This was something else. This was a commitment to what Aldrich wanted: a warrior who was willing to accept anything that happened, that would not back down regardless of context. And now, she fits that role better than before…
The virtual world she inhabits has become her new norm. Headaches gone. Spatially aware. She can adapt to this surrounding better than she could with the real world. This is her new reality. This should excite her, but her building aggression prevents that. Her frustrations with home don’t matter anymore. The relief Amphibia brought her doesn’t matter anymore. All that she cares about is clearing her training and impressing Aldrich.

The frogs and toads in Wartwood are grabbing their gear in preparation for their invasion attempt that afternoon. Sasha is handing out weaponry appropriate for each fighter, and is checking her battle plans one last time. Ever since the old ones were stolen, she chose to re-evaluate her strategy and realised a fatal weakness of Newtopia: the castle seemed to lack any protection from the outside. Aside from the jets on the bottom, nothing would stop her from flying up to one of the windows. This worked for Grime in his mission, and the fact he was not seen gives her reason to pray that this weakness isn’t fixed before their attack. Anne walks up behind her, scaring her for a short moment.

Anne: “Woah. Heh. Sorry about that, Sash. How’s the plan looking?”

Sasha: “All going as planned… Are you… Seriously going in that?”

Anne was still wearing the same shirt and skirt as she did when she returned to Amphibia. The only difference was that she was wearing an armour on her chest. It only covered the top half, though, with no arm parts. And it’s dull gold sheen suggested it was a very old set.

Anne: “Yeah! Remember, I’ve got those Calamity Powers to help me. Dude, I’ll be fine. Besides, aren’t you doing all the heavy lifting? You know, saving Marcy and all that?”

Marcy… It was thanks to the incredible risk that Lady Olivia took that gave them the knowledge of Darcy. They knew it’s tricks. Marcy isn’t going to see Sasha as herself. And this... Core could warp her views to encourage her to be more aggressive. Sasha figures that she will need to be careful about what she and Grime do. And ultimately, removing the headpiece will be the key to saving Marcy.

Sasha: “…You know, I’m worried about her… How she must be manipulated into doing horrible deeds. And what’s worse is that… When she ambushed us before you were here… She was still Marcy. It’s not like she’s a different person. She’s just… Not seeing us…”

Sasha feels a hand wrap around her shoulder bone, comforting her as much as it can.

Anne: “Oh Sash… I’m worried too. She’s gonna be okay, though. I know you’ll make sure of it!”

This reassures Sasha greatly, as a determined smile bears itself on her face. She turns to look at the floating castle. Looming in the sky, it gives her a sense of dread. Andrias will pay for what he’s doing to Marcy.

Andrias kneels down towards The Core once again, the eyes all activating to stare him down as usual. He has grown used to this in recent weeks, thanks in full to the incredible progress Marcy has made towards Project Darcy ever since… What happened to Olivia. Those eyes have met his gaze more than they ever used to. For centuries he was afraid to face them out of fear of being lambasted, being called a failure. But now that his work has resulted in major progress for Amphibia’s future, he has been ready to accept their stares. And yet, a growing sense of regret is taking over him. He feels as if the Newts around him have become more fearful of him since the Calamity Box returned. He had tried to cover up Olivia’s death as an ambush by Wartwood, but it seems that few have truly bought it. Of course, no one would dare risk challenging him, knowing that murder is now a potential answer to face, but they sure do show it in how they fear his presence. The only person who seems to have fallen for his lie is Yunan, but he wonders if that’s because of denial more than anything else. No, he can’t wonder about it. To question the resolve of The Core is to deny one’s self of a place in their minds. Once more he must suppress his emotions for the sake of his future place with his father…

Andrias: “My Lord, preparations for the war have been completed. My combat mech is set for activation, and defence turrets have been established. We won’t be having another situation like we had with that Grime. His name matches perfectly, he was like a spot of grime on our walls that needed scrubbing off-“

Abraham: “Oh, shut it! We have no need to hear your insults at the moment, not when the war could start at any moment. Remember, you want the resistance to be caught off guard, but that leaves us without any knowledge of their attack.”

Andrias: “You keep doubting me. And doubt leads to overcompensation and ignorance of flaws in a vein attempt to save face, resulting in fatal mistakes that cost everything. Just this once… Trust me.”

Amanda: “Oh, young one. It is not distrust we feel towards you. We are simply expecting the greatest out of you! That’s why I am proud of you for sending yourself out into battle in that mech of yours. But if you fail us-“

Andrias: “Don’t waste my sanity with these expectations. Need I remind you of how the weight of expectations crushes one until they lose sight of everything? Whatever the results of this war are, I want to know that I’m fighting it for my hopes of joining you, not because you place that expectation onto me. I do not want to become like Asandra.”

Asandra: “Fool. That’s all you are! If your plan is to collapse and all the progress you’ve made is lost. Then what? How will you feel knowing that in punishment or death that you have failed to achieve what you want?”

Andrias: “I would rather die knowing I fought strong for my ideals than be a coward who wins by default.”

Amidst all the voices of The Core, a 4th one sprouts out. It is a voice Andrias hardly ever gats to hear. And even when he does, it is without a name.

Mystical voice: “You may ignore the empty threats of the rest. You are shaping yourself to be my worthy successor. In my mind, you are deserving of being the true second ruler of Newtopia… Nay. Amphibia.”

Andrias: “Thank you, First Queen.”

Mystical voice: “Hmmmmm… No. You do not need to refer to me so vaguely anymore. You may call me by my forgotten name… Avery.”

A stunned silence hits the room. To be recognised and praised by the First Queen like that is something Andrias never could have expected. She is a voice only heard during the introduction to The Core at a young age. And to be bestowed upon with her true name… It is the extra strength Andrias needs to lead his army to greatness and victory. There is one last important piece of information he needs for the success of the defence against the resistance.

Andrias: “How close is Darcy to completion?”

After a few seconds of deliberation, The Core gives an answer.

Aldrich: “95%.”

Chapter Text

Treading through the bog below the castle, the Wartwood army approaches the border to Newtopia. There is no clear way to reach over the walls, but that is of no concern to them. Newtopia is not the source of the conflict. Marcy is in the castle. Watchtowers stationed around the top of the border lay empty. This isn’t right, Sasha thought. Surely they would be on the lookout for an invasion… Unless-

Sasha: “Battle circle, now!!”

At once the army forms a circle to ensure they can see every angle that they could be attacked from. This could be the setup for an ambush, Sasha realises. And weakening their army at the start of battle would ensure victory for Newtopia. She was right to fear this. She hears the sound of a spear stabbing through metal, and she turns to see, at the back of the formation, is a troop of Newt soldiers. One of them is kneeled on the ground clutching his chest in pain, and the others are being dealt with by the rest of her army. Those soldiers stood no chance, but if they caught her completely off guard... Well, that does not matter now. The rest of the soldiers fall, her army only mildly injured by it. But still, it concerns her how prepared they seemed to be for her attack. How they were able to get this close without resistance…

Sprig: “Uh… Commander Sasha… Those weren’t the only soldiers…”

She turns to discover that more Newt soldiers have appeared from behind. Hundreds more. And then, drilling up from the ground comes a wave of fro-bots. And then snakes. The full Newtopian Army! They have them surrounded. There’s no escaping. Her army has grown massively, yet it will only be able to fend off these forces for so long. She’s gonna have to support her army.

Anne: “Don’t worry. Let’s stick to the plan. You get up there and save Marcy. I’ll help fight as much as I can.”

Sasha nods, her expression changing from concern to determination. She whistles the tune that Anne taught her, and silence falls around the area for a moment, the Newtopians confused at what the whistle meant. Suddenly, a line of snakes and fro-bots and soldiers are knocked to the ground by the silent flight of Domino 2, who Sasha jumps onto to begin flight. At this same time, Anne activates her Calamity Powers and incites the resistance to begin charging in their circle. She barrels towards the snakes first, as they were meticulously evolved in nature to be predators to Amphibians. Eliminating them first will ensure that no one gets eaten gruesomely. Each snake tries to lunge for her, their venomous sharp teeth attempting to cling to her skin, but she is too quick for them. Each one is delivered a heavy punch by Anne, blasting them hundreds of feet away in the distance. They are unlikely to survive the fall. For one of them, her blow hits so strongly that it blows in half in an instant, it's blood spilling into the palm of her hand and frightening even the Newt soldiers. She didn’t expect to hit that strongly, and is taken aback for a second before remembering to stay focussed. The soldiers surrounding her are slightly cowering at what she could do to them. They are too caught off guard to notice the Plantars knock them out from behind. Her found family… They make greater fighters than she could have imagined. They flash a smile towards her before returning to the rest of the fight. She stares up at the sky to see Sasha is halfway up to the floating castle.

Staring down at her digital map of the battlefield, Marcy is hell-bent on ensuring the most effective plan is used. She already planned out that surrounding ambush, but it hasn’t worked out as well as she thought it would. Sure, it stunned the resistance for a short time, but then legions of her forces were eliminated in quick succession by a mysterious Goddess. Or, that’s what Aldrich claims they have on their side. There is no way that Agra could have recruited a Goddess onto her side considering the cruel person she is… She chuckled to herself, realising that most Gods are cruel enough to actually support someone like Agra. But watching the figure of this Goddess on her map – despite it being a low polygonal recreation of the current affairs on the battlefield – reminds her heavily of something. The way it floats lightly on the ground, how it flies towards its foes, the strength of its powers… The blue hair… It doesn’t just remind her of anime… It reminds her of someone more specific… Anne? Though she’s 95% sure it’s her mind being silly, that 5% still clings to her in the back of her head. But her focus is split between sending in new forces for the ground army and dealing with an airborne threat. Agra. That damn leader. It was this exact concern that she brought up to install those new turrets. It’s time to multitask. She uses her right hand to control the aim of the turrets, while the left drops in more numbers on the ground. She doesn’t just drop mindlessly though; she has a limited amount of soldiers, snakes, fro-bots. So she places them strategically, sending snakes on opposite ends to the Goddess. Dropping fro-bots on top of clustered groups of the resistance to scatter them. Sending soldiers into the circle to break it up. These plans aren’t working as effectively as she hoped, since the Goddess moves at blistering speeds and the resistance army is confident at fighting back. But she has noticed a dip in numbers, several injured and killed resistance members. But none of the major threats such as Loggle and… Maddie… are harmed. But as for the turrets…

Grime stares at the windows of the castle, deciding where would be the best place for the two to drop off at. It was just as unsecured as before, it seemed. Yet this didn’t sit right with him. Sure, he hadn’t been spotted by anyone other than Olivia, but the fact that their invasion was so clearly predicted despite their replanning… In that case, surely they would have-
Just then he hears the sound of machinery whirring on the sides of the castle. Circular devices begin to burst out, spinning like a trackball to turn a triangular device towards them. Turrets! As quickly as they came out, the turrets begin firing superheated rods of titanium towards them, firing directly at the wings of Domino 2. Sasha pushes the reigns as far down as she can, sending Domino 2 into a downward spiral to dodge the rods. Even a graze from one of them could burn Domino’s wings too badly to continue flying. And if that was to happen… Thinking quickly, Sasha fires an emergency flare to catch Anne’s attention. She aims it towards one of the turrets to ensure Anne knows the threat at hand. More rods fire towards them, Sasha struggling to keep her bearings and focus through the risk of everything falling apart around her.

Marcy smiles at the resistances efforts falling apart around her. Soon, Agra will be locked up and Newtopia’s peace will be kept. Maybe this will bring closure and peace to Edgar… Maybe she will finally be at peace herself for what she did… Yet perhaps that will not be so easy… Her numbers are dropping, and the resistance on the ground show no sign of slowing down. It seems that a battle of endurance is one they were prepared for. She has her backup plan if needed… But she doesn’t want to risk the life of Aldrich, no matter how willing he is to fight for his kingdom to the bitter end. But he might be the only thing that can stop that damn Goddess… A flare brightens up on her display, one that shines near one of the turrets. She notices the Goddess halt in her place and observe the flare for a second. Then… She heads towards it! No! If those turrets are destroyed, then the castle is breached and she will have to fight for her life! She cannot allow this, so she amplifies the power of the turrets firing speed.

Charging straight for the first turret, Anne taps it with middling strength of her palm, and it bursts into a storm of electricity, finally ending with an internal explosion that wipes out its ability to fire. She searches for Sasha to find that she’s flying frantically to avoid the bullets of the turrets for as long as she can. There’s no time to waste. She swiftly flies towards the next turret, which then turns to shoot at her. Her nimble body combined with the control over her levitation she has thanks to her Calamity Powers, she weaves her way around each of the long rods of molten energy. They begin firing at a faster pace, causing one of them to sear her armour plate despite only hitting by mere millimetres. What a direct impact could leave behind, she is not willing to learn. The second turret isn’t strong enough, though, as she is able to tear right through it. Halfway there… She sneaks below the castle to reach the next turret without being shot at. The jets of fire she speeds through feel like a warm campfire in comparison to what was shot at her. She notices that Sasha is still on the other side with the two remaining turrets. She’s gonna need to get Sasha around to the safe side. For the moment, she makes it below the third turret and jets up through it.

Marcy flinches and pulls her hand off of the third turret to be destroyed by the Goddess… This is becoming too difficult... Her left hand begins to fidget at her side, tapping a fast drum beat on her left leg. Her chest feels tighter and she worries about her odds of success. Only one turret left. And Agra is still in flight. An idea clicks in her head: lead her shots. Aim where Agra is going to be, rather than where she currently is! She quickly recalibrates the aim of the turret, analysing the flight pattern Agra is using, the Goddess approaching fast. She’s got one shot at this. Do or die. She fires. The turret explodes as the Goddess rips the internals in two…

Hit!

Domino 2’s right wing turns to ashes immediately. She turns into her side as she barrels towards the ground, causing Sasha to lose her grip and fall towards the ground. This is it. She’s failed the mission. Despite her best efforts, Wartwood is going to lose their leader. How can they keep fighting when the girl who brought them all together is dead? Though she flails in the air, she knows it’s for nothing. She scans the sky around her for Grime, to be with the greatest friend she could have asked for in her final moments. To give her final wishes to him before he survives the fall with those shock absorbing boots he wouldn’t stop talking about. But she realises he isn’t there. Not above her or below her. That’s when she feels an arm wrap around her and an ocean breeze surround her. She opens her eyes out of the confusion this catch has left her in to see that Anne is holding her in both hands, Grime clinging onto her spiked hair. Thank frog!

Anne: “I’m wondering now if I should have just embraced some pride and suggest this idea in the first place!”

Sasha smiles, knowing that only Anne would be too scared to suggest an idea out of fear of dethroning her. But she has nothing to be ashamed of. It’s a team effort, after all. Spotting an exposed window on the tower of the castle, Anne kicks through it and drops Grime and Sasha off inside. Sasha checks to make sure she has her two swords still with her. She does. And Grime still has his hammer. Perfect. They’re ready for Marcy.

Shit. She’s not ready for them. She got so focussed on eliminating Agra that she blinded herself to the threat of the Goddess… The Goddess that’s carrying the war. She realises how the resistance army has struggled to keep up with her soldiers in spite of Marcy being fully focussed on the turrets. They rely on the Goddess for strength…

Sasha and Grime rush up the spiral staircase to reach the top of the castle. Marcy will await them there, and her safety will be ensured. It’s a mad dash to save her friend. To save Amphibia.#

She didn’t want to do this. Not after all the respect he showed her. Not after proving himself to have been a better person than his son. But as long as the Goddess remains, they may never win this war. But if Aldrich can distract her for long enough… Their odds of victory could easily skyrocket to 96%!

The two reach a door, barricades placed haphazardly to block entrance. Using his hammer, Grime is able to crush the blockades in the way, the debris tumbling down the steps. Sasha pushes the door, to no success. It must be blocked on the other side. She and Grime start pushing into the door together to break through.

The door is about to break. She’s gonna be facing a dangerous battle soon. And she’ll have no time to control her army… Then it’s settled! She slides the piece for Aldrich’s mech above the circled resistance army, and drops all her remaining pieces randomly around the battlefield. This will keep them busy.

Finally, the door breaks, and the two stagger into the strategy room. They see a digital recreation of the battlefield strung over a table, which Marcy, in that same spider armour as before, is observing. With their arrival, she swipes it away, placing a her focus on the enemies in front of her.

Anne watches as legions of snakes and fro-bots burrow out from the ground dozens of metres away from the current battle occurring. These figures start rushing towards Wartwood’s army, but before she can face them on her own, she is interrupted by the arrival of a gigantic mech, from which a familiar voice rings out.

Andrias: “Marcy sent me here. Heard you were too much of a Goddess for us to want alive. I hope you’re ready for the fight of your life, Boonchuy!”

He lunges towards her, jets activating on his boots. Anne catches his outstretched fists, though feels less firm in this as usual. He is pushing through her strength. He’s a closer equal to her powers… She kicks off the fists to readjust herself in midair to go for a strike to the head.

There she is. Once again, Agra stands before her. No longer wearing a helmet, revealing her short brown hair. Now joined by Grime. A lot has changed since last time they met. This time, Marcy knows, Agra will not survive. She will face the same pain she inflicted on others. Inside her army and out. Marcy will slay Agra for herself. For Amphibia’s future.
For Rundas!

Chapter Text

The Calamity Box sits on a pedestal at her side. Marcy knows that if Agra steals the box, the resistance will have unavoidable victory in their hands. At least, that’s what they’d think. Marcy was smart to hide the Green Gem – now a dull grey for reasons she does not understand – inside her armour’s pouch. Should Agra want to win the war, she will need to get through Marcy first. And she won’t let that happen. No running away. One will live. Two will die. And Amphibia will be saved!

Sasha unsheathes her two swords, using them to block an immediate assault from Marcy. She’s not holding back this time, Sasha realises. Marcy doesn’t want another loss, not after her defeat at Wartwood. Marcy goes for a leg-sweep which Sasha hops over quickly. She’s trying that on her too early, now she knows to expect it next time. Grime sneaks up from behind and swings his hammer at Marcy’s head, but she whips her leg out to kick him to the ground. Aiming for the headpiece was the most important; destroying it would be enough to break Marcy free. Thanks to Olivia’s insider info, they know that the virtual reality that Marcy is trapped and deluded in is fed to her by that headpiece. She fears what she is being shown as to Marcy…

Catching Grime out on swinging at her, Marcy quickly turns back to Agra and pulls her scythe back to her and starts to dart backwards, keeping her body facing Agra. Keep her distance while still provoking her foe. Get at the perfect distance to dislodge. Just as Edgar taught her. The angles Agra swings at are too awkward to catch with the blade of her scythe, so she instead blocks them with the hilt, hoping that one of them will be perfect for her to counter. Grime is pulling himself back up. She has to act fast or else she’ll get overcrowded by the two rulers of the resistance. The perfect opportunity strikes. Agra slices her red sword in front of Marcy. She’s at the perfect distance, the perfect swing. All she has to do is catch it!

Klang!

To Sasha’s dismay, Marcy has caught her blade in her scythe. The ridges of the design ensure it can get trapped inside. She realises too late and the blade is thrown out of her hand and pierces itself into the wall to her right. Shock and fear take over her for a brief moment, enough time for Marcy to spin the blade behind her. Aimed at her neck, the inner curve of the blade rests on her shoulders, the hilt held to her side. Marcy has her trapped.

A sense of victory flows through Marcy as she realises she has Agra ready to be decapitated. A swift death, and one that will ensure the defeat of the resistance. This is her chance! And yet… She hesitates. Memories of what she did to Rundas infest her thoughts. She sees his brief look of horror before death in Agra. These fictional opponents have become too real for her to feel anything other than guilt at murdering them, even when it is the right answer in this moment. Her hesitation wasted too much time, as Grime pushes her to the ground, freeing Agra and breaking her distraction. As she pulls herself back up, she feels hands cling to her head, and she screams. But her screams are not of pain; the hands are soft and careful not to hurt her. But it’s the sensation that freaks her out. To have her personal space so suddenly violated in a fight that should have been honourable. It’s too much. It’s pulling at her but not with intense force. What is Agra doing? She has to get her off. She yanks the monster off of her head, adrenaline powering her arms as she throws them in a random direction. To her shock, it was actually Grime, and he crashes into the wall with enough force to break through it, leaving him hanging for dear life on the edge. She readjusts herself and grabs her scythe, but doesn’t rush to stop Agra. She needs a second to control herself again. And Agra seems to focussed on Grime’s predicament to care about her.

Her trusted ally clings on to the side of the wall, the surrounding ledge too unstable to climb onto. Sasha rushes over to Grime to pull him up, reaching out her hand to catch him. Grime looks down at the ground below, hundreds of feet below him. The two get a chance to see the fight below turning sour for the resistance. A gigantic mech with the head of a diplocaulus darts around the hills and cliffs surrounding the bog as Anne chases after to defeat it. But in doing so, the rest of her army is left to fend for themselves. And with the number of snakes and fro-bots increasing dramatically, they are struggling to keep up. Smoke from one of Maddie’s potions covers the battle, leaving the aftermath ambiguous to Sasha. Her outstretched arm is then slapped away by Grime.

Grime: “No, Sasha. They need someone down there who can help them. I am not going to sit and watch them die alone. Let me go down and help them.”

Sasha: “Grime, you’re sure about this? You won’t be able to come back up here if you do.”

Grime: “I’m sure, Sasha. This is your battle to win. And mine is down there…”

Grime pushes himself off the side of the outside wall and begins falling back down, positioning himself so that his boots hit the ground first and absorb the impact.

Sasha: “Good luck.”

Behind her, a scream filled with rage and hatred rings out from Marcy, who stares at Sasha as if she has just committed a heinous crime.

It all happened so quickly. As she was readjusting herself from that violation of her personal space, Marcy watched as Agra taunted Grime as he held on knowing his life was on the line. Any self respecting leader would have picked him up and carried on the fight. 97% of leaders would do so. But Agra wasn’t the overwhelming majority. Instead, she had mocked Grime for being a worthless member of the resistance, deadweight. She claimed that it would be better if he wasn’t a part of it at all. That’s a lie! Considering Grime nearly shut her down from stress, Marcy could admit that Grime was a confident and capable warrior. Then the unthinkable happened. Agra threw Grime’s clinging hand away, sending the toad on a nosedive to the ground that would kill him instantly. Nobody would survive such a fall. Agra just assassinated one of her own men, someone that she had put her trust and time into training. And for what? Pride? Selfishness? Agra wasn’t a leader worthy of respect. She had truly exposed herself as unhinged evil. Marcy screams with unfiltered anger at Agra’s blatant murder.

Marcy: “HE WAS YOUR FRIEND!!! HE IS NOT DEADWEIGHT!!!”

She dashes towards the sword she dislodged earlier and grasps it tightly as she lunges to stab through Agra. She will pay for her evil.

Caught off guard by Marcy’s harsh condemnation, Sasha gives herself little time to react to the sword approaching her chest. With her other sword, she deflects it as best she can. It fails to pierce through her but manages to cut through her side. She flinches with pain but pushes through it as she swings at the headpiece. Her swing impacts one of the eyes, causing it to crack and lose its glow. She wished she hit one of the larger eyes instead of the small ones, but it was progress. It’s like she knocked it down to 98% efficiency. Anything to make it easier to save Marcy. Another swipe at Marcy, this time at the sword to get rid of it. In response, Marcy swiftly pulls out her scythe and activates it’s spinning move. Sasha pulls back her sword before it lands, ensuring that it isn’t ripped apart in the spinning blades. She remembers this technique from last time they fought and rushes behind Marcy again, but this time Marcy is prepared for this. She frees her right hand and cuts at Sasha’s leg to halt her backstab. Sasha yelps and falls to the ground, her leg bleeding from the strength of the cut.

Now’s her chance. Another shot at victory. No more hesitation. She’s 99% sure this time. Forget the 1%... Agra shall die! Marcy halts her spinning scythe and holds it above her head. Let it crash into her heart. She wins. But before that can happen, she feels a sense of energy surround her. She feels her hair try to rise up like it’s been rubbed on a balloon, trapped by the helmet she wears. The world around her glitches briefly, and she panics. Not again. But she thought last time was a breakdown! She thought it was herself! But maybe it was just the collapsing of the virtual world. The virtual world! All this time she’s let the cruelty of this fabricated reality shift her thoughts into accepting and treating it all like it was the truth! She’s really feeling this much unrelenting rage towards a fictional character? Her grip falters as the scythe falls out her hand. Perhaps she’s being too heartless… She’s becoming no better than Agra… Her hands drop to the ground, one of them touching the wound she’s left on Agra’s leg. Suddenly, she feels a warmth in her hand: the same warmth before everything fell apart with Rundas… And the wound heals itself instantly. No sign that any damage was there. When did she learn to do this? Has she always had this power? Does it have something to do with the Gem she holds in her pocket? Agra reaches her arms out towards Marcy. And pulls at her head.

Despite hoping this would be the calmest opportunity, Marcy once again screams at Sasha’s attempt to save her. It’s no use! As long as those eyes decieive her, Marcy will never be comfortable being rescued! Marcy lets out a sudden shockwave that pushes Sasha back, and the two get back on their feet. Sasha, surprised still at her healed leg, notices a faint green glow from inside the headpiece. Marcy has her Calamity Powers! They must be interfering with the headpiece! Now to just stop it once and for all!

With the world around her breaking into floating pixels and incoherent RGB messes of colours, Marcy still manages to keep an eye on Agra. How foolish of her to trust that horrific creature for even a second! Letting her guard down like that was a mistake, one she won’t make again.
The voice of Aldrich abruptly flashes through Marcy’s ears as she blocks approaches that Agra is making on her.

Aldrich: “Well done, Marcy.”

She notices that the slices and swings that Agra is going for are exclusively for the head.

Marcy: “Aldrich, can’t you tell I’m in the middle of a fight? There’s nothing to be well done on yet!”

Aldrich: “Well, that is true… But your training is complete. You’ve proven yourself to be a capable and worthy warrior for our army.”

Marcy: “Are you serious? But I haven’t won this fight yet-“

Her defensive actions against Agra start getting weaker as her focus comes down to what Aldrich is saying to her.

Aldrich: “That does not matter. We will be taking you out of the simulations right this moment.”

Marcy: “But, I-“

She has completely stopped fighting, her scythe held loosely in her hand as she looks towards Agra rushing towards her with her red sword aimed at her head. She’s noticed a faint sense of regret and sombreness in Aldrich’s voice. Like he doesn’t want to do this...

Aldrich: “Marcy… T-Thank you… It was an honour… An honour to train you. Farewell.”

What does he mean-

Sasha realises that Marcy is doing nothing! Her perfect chance! She’s giving 100% of her energy into her assault on The Core’s control over Marcy-

A voice rings in her ear.

“Project Darcy has reached: 100% augmentation.”

She’s confused at what this-

She’s getting closer to Marcy. With a heavy grip on her sword, she begins her swing at the headpiece, hoping to catch all the eyes and gain a chance at saving her-

The armour loosens up. The helmet feels light. She feels a force push her forward. The world she was shown disappears, replaced by reality. Agra is no longer there… It’s Sasha! With her sword mid-swing… At her. It feels like time has slowed around her. Sasha’s aggressive, determined eyes sharply shift to one’s of utter fear. She desperately prays that the blade will miss…
Marcy feels an eternal pain slice through her chest.

Chapter Text

She watches helplessly as Marcy is flung forward in the air. She can’t stop her blade. It’s going to hit. Sasha only has a few brief milliseconds to comprehend the consequences of what has just happened. The trajectory of the launch causes the blade to slice through Marcy’s chest, just below the middle of the wound from Andrias’s stab. A raspy gasp blurts out of Marcy as this happens, and her body plants into Sasha, knocking the two to the ground. Marcy lays wide-eyed staring at the floor as her mind flies into an intense overdrive trying to understand what is happening. Agra. Sasha. Darcy. Aldrich. The virtual world collapsing. The inescapable pain she feels. Her emerald hair fades back to black as she feels herself slipping into unconsciousness. She can just barely make out Sasha’s panicked and desperate pleas and face through this. Her mind goes dark.
Sasha clings sombrely to Marcy, the unending stream of blood soaking her furred cloak a Moss green. She sobs and cries just as profusely as Marcy bleeds out. To be tricked into fatally wounding her best friend because she was too slow. The Core… Those despicable bastards that refuse to die… Have just won. Sasha’s grief distracts her from the pieces of Darcy that have been strung around the floor like a discarded puppet. The helmet that manipulated Marcy for all this time lights up once more, the eyes sharpening in focus. As the arms - now lacking hands due to those belonging to Marcy - reconnect to the chest piece, the head sprouts thin spider legs as it crawls to the neck. It climbs up on the left elbow as the legs attach and the chassis stands back up. It does so slowly and drunkenly, as if it needs a second to understand the basics of movement. Once stood up, the head sticks itself into place as the open flaps that once made space for a head close, leaving the head as a perfect black circle. It does not go to grab the scythe, however. Instead, the eyes take on a more mocking glare as voices ring out from it.

Abraham: “Sasha Waybright… Or, as Marcy knew you… Agra Ashby Whits-“

Amanda: “What happened to all that power? That yearning to stop at nothing to achieve you goal? That’s what we analysed in your fight to ‘save’ this worthless girl-“

Abraham: “Yet here you are, cowering at your battle not planning out the way you wanted-“

Amanda: “All because you were all too sure of your victory. And look where that’s landed you-“

Abraham: “We should have expected nothing less from your weakness-“

Amanda: “A child like you is unworthy of leading an army.”

Sasha shakes through her harsher sobbing at these words. The words of centuries old ancestors to Amphibia who are convinced they are worthy and right. The ones who set Marcy up. The ones who just won’t accept death!
The eyes of Darcy shift their focus briefly on the Calamity Box. Specifically, they aim their sights on the Red Gem. It lays dormant, showing no sign of emanating power trying to break free. Their taunting was still not enough. A third voice joins in, maniacal and spiteful.

Asandra: “You must understand though that you are doing yourself a favour? That girl cling onto you like a crab, clenching at you to stay with her. And when she feared losing you, she trapped you in here. Left you out to die so she could escape the harsh reality of her own earth. Frankly, you’ve rid yourself of a toxic creature by doing this. You should thank us.”

She felt even worse. It felt like a demon was trying to break out of her body. She tries to resist the unending anger Darcy is inflicting onto her. She wants to tear that thing apart. Limb by limb, eye by eye.
A softer, more reassuring voice tries to bring comfort to Sasha in spite of all the vitriol lodged at her.

Avery: “Please, young one. Do not cry. I am deeply sorry. Your friend, she didn’t deserve this fate.”

Her anger fizzles out for a short moment. Hearing words of apology gets to Sasha. But they ring hollow. Sorry means nothing when the deed is done. It means nothing when this voice willingly watched this occur. She grips Marcy tighter, fighting back even further against her anger fuelled urges.

Avery: “Aldrich, I don’t think it is smart to provoke her any further-“

The voice is cut off by the true leader of Darcy. The father of the Newt who built this monstrosity belittling Sasha.

Aldrich: “Nonsense. That’s what this is. You’ve wasted your life caring about this pathetic girl, and look where that’s led you. You should have abandoned her long ago. Maybe then you wouldn’t be as weak as you are right now!”

She snaps.

A mild shockwave shifts Darcy to the side, which it takes a few seconds to pull itself back up from. It stares at the source of the blast; the Calamity Box. The Red Gem has finally reacted! And it has done so fast and aggressively. Energy is overflowing out of it, flying sharply and relentlessly. It engulfs Sasha in this energy like a wildfire, her silhouette being unreadable through the rose and crimson glow. The eyes widen in anticipation, shock and – for one set – fear.
As the flames envelope her, Sasha feels her leather war gear burn to ashes that then cling onto her body. Her fur coat is whisked away by the fire and is enveloped and weaved by the flames. As this cape being moulded by the flames into a new form, the ash covering her body transforms into a full set of battle armour. Her feet are protected by ankle high boots constructed of glazed gold with red and purple lining the edges and marks. Her knees and shoulders are padded by spikes the colour of a sunset. A deep purple cloth runs down from her waist down to her knees, which flows in the flames with no sign of being burnt. Sasha’s hair stretches out into a thin and sharp ponytail that emits sparks of fire. She glares predator-like with her now bright red eyes, as a mask in the form of a renaissance helmet covers the front of her face, two gold devil horns – the peaks of which were in a permanent state of being superheated – line the top of the mask. Her eyes still visible through the bars of the dark orange mask, she pulls her hands off of Marcy to comprehend this new form. Except, her hands are not as they usually were. Her left was sharper, more talon like in shape, tinged a subtle mix of red and purple blending with her usual skin colour. And as for her right… The whole arm was held inside of a round and smooth arm cannon. Blending in with the same reds and purples as the rest of her armour, it felt violent in her hands, as if it was ready to unleash a vast supply of explosive energy. At last, her cape returns to her and clips onto her back. Except… It wasn’t a cape anymore. From her back sprouts wings made of fire, pointed and detailed with many fiery feathers. They stretch out large, being long enough that she could wrap herself within them. The flames around her fade out and she can see the monstrous Darcy in front of her again. No hesitation bogs down her mind. She pounces off the ground into a corkscrew motion directly into Darcy. The chassis barely has the time to catch her in its arms, but with no proper hands to absorb the impact with, it gets caught in the spin. Sasha blasts through the exposed opening in the tower and abruptly halts her spin, sending Darcy falling through the air. Enraged, Sasha flaps her flaming wings to grab the helmet by the horns and throws it back into the tower. Her mind has become a wasteland of hatred and fury. She growls to herself as she darts back into the room to destroy the threat. Her throw, despite being done one handed on a heavy piece of machinery, was strong enough to leave significant cracks in the wall. Darcy recovers itself and grabs the scythe from the ground before Sasha reaches it. It goes for a blow to the hand, maybe even the neck if it’s lucky. Expecting a clean cut through flesh with the energy blade, it instead feels a strong resistance to the scythe’s blade. Sasha’s arm cannon has completely halted the scythe in its track, leaving Darcy exposed to an easy shot from Sasha. The blast, aimed at the head, leaves a puff of smoke veiling Darcy. Sasha hops back to make space, her eyes still sharp from aggression and rage. The smoke clears quickly as it is fanned away by the spinning technique of the scythe, which Darcy keeps up to shred through the several missiles Sasha fires haphazardly at the monster. Seizing an opportunity, Darcy makes use of the attached grapple hook it has and shoots it at an angle next to Sasha, clinging itself into the wall to her side. Almost immediately Darcy gets pulled towards the location, to which Sasha grasps the rope with her talon hand and hoists it towards her, breaking the intended trajectory that Darcy was going for and causing it to drop the scythe again and lay weakly in the middle of the room. Sasha swiftly circles around the chassis – getting herself back beside Marcy – and fires an unending stream of missiles at the machine. She screams with vengeance for Marcy. She doesn’t care about herself or the war anymore. What these heinous minds did to Marcy is unforgivable, and they do not deserve to see the light of day again. What started as a mild smoke bomb fills the entire room and pours out through the open wall. The remains of the chassis are near impossible to see. Sasha doesn’t trust that it’s over. She prepares to lunge through the smoke and massacre the remains, but she is stopped by the touch of a hand on her arm cannon. She turns reactively towards it, aiming at the source…
Marcy stares with fear and confusion in her eyes. She’s still alive! But she seems to be barely holding herself together. Her eyes beg to be saved, to be freed from the pain of her injury. The anger fades from Sasha as she realises that her friend still has a chance at life. For several seconds, she kneels, cusping Marcy in her hands. Her arm cannon moulds itself into a metallic glove, her right arm just as talon-like as her left was. Then, she spreads her wings with immense force and launches towards the Calamity Box and grabs it. Afterwards, she throws herself through the opening. She's completed the main mission and stolen the source of Newtopia's power. And she's saved Marcy from Darcy. Now to save her from death...
Against her better judgement, Sasha nosedives with Marcy clutched tightly yet comfortably in her arms. The hospital. Surely they can save her! She knows she risks being arrested, but she will take that over losing her best friend. She glances, heartbroken, at the Marcy she holds that is enduring the pain.

Sasha: “Don’t worry, Mar Mar. I’m here.

Chapter Text

Anne feels her powers fading as she grows exhausted from battle. The resistance army behind her is falling to the overwhelming numbers. The Plantars are surrounded and struggling to fight back, toads corpses lay around the bog, and the residents of Wartwood have started to cower in fear. Every time that she has tried to return to save them all, she gets blocked by Andrias, forcing her into a battle where the outcome doesn’t matter. As long as it stalls her out for long enough, Andrias would win. She put up a good fight: faint sparks emit from the arms and the curved head has been torn off, exposing Andrias within. Yet, throughout the whole ordeal, and even now, there was a look of dreading anticipation clearly marked on Andrias’s face. As if he was expecting a war-shifting strategy to reveal itself and win him the war. This expression turned more sombre after his speech to Marcy. They had been too late; Project Darcy was completed. Newtopia had a new super weapon. But what about Marcy? Is she safe? Did The Core spare her?
A powerful gust of wind blows from the direction of the tower of the castle. Everyone on the battlefield stops to observe it. The snakes recoil in fear and flee instinctively to avoid what they believe is a greater predator. Their survival instincts surpass even the collars made to control them. The blast causes the soldiers to drop to their backs from the shock, and the hovering fro-bots to veer off course and crash into the ground with an explosion. Only a few dozen grounded fro-bots remain standing. Anne, through her exhaustion, tries to find the source of this boom, and notices a bright flaming light falling towards the inside of Newtopia’s borders. She doesn’t have a clue who that could be… Andrias stares, eyes widening in terror, at the sight of this comet. He knew who it would be. And he could figure out from this angle where she would be flying towards. Sasha would not be foolish enough to try and receive healing at the hospital of a kingdom that would arrest her on sight. Unless… She had someone who needed to be saved…

Andrias: “NO! Father, Marcy being hurt was never part of the plan! We never agreed upon it! Father? ACKNOWLEDGE ME YOU COWARD!!”

Anne could not hear any voice responding to this, and she could tell that no voice was heard by Andrias. There was a specific look in his eyes before he gave his farewell speech to Marcy, almost as if a voice was alerting him in his head to do so. Yet that look was not here this time. She uses this moment of vulnerability to land a blow at Andrias’s nose. He notices this assault and ducks slightly to ensure that his crown is the object that is punched. Her fist crushes through the crown, hundreds of pieces falling around the mech. She expects to see a monster screaming at her like he did with their first battle. Instead, Andrias seemed hollow and heartbroken. He turns away from Anne to hide the tears dripping down his head; not from pain, but from grief. Anne takes a chance and lowers her guard, to which Andrias confronts her with his thoughts.

Andrias: “Your friend… Our friend. Marcy… I didn’t mean for her to… I didn’t want her to be… No… Why did I trust my Lord to protect her?”

A wave of pity flows through Anne. Despite how despicable his actions have been, she wants to comfort Andrias in this moment because she can sympathize with how much he cared about Marcy. She knows what it’s like to care deeply about that lovable goofball. She rests on the mech’s shoulder to conserve energy. Andrias turns to face her with a pleading look.

Andrias: “My Lord is inactive right now… He cannot hear me or see me… Even before you broke my crown… I think your other friend did a number on them. I will allow you to flee safely. I shall spare you and your army for now…”

He signals to the rest of his army, raising his two fists in the air as his voice booms out.

Andrias: “Men, let these resistance fighters go! Do not fight back any longer. They have surrendered and shall retreat back to Wartwood. Do not follow them. Let them flee.”

The soldiers, many on edge by this unusual command, drop their weapons and let the resistance fighters count their dead and and treat wounded. Some salamanders even help out in this. Anne wonders how much of that battle call Andrias believed in. She knew for sure that they would not be giving up anytime soon. Andrias raises his left arm and checks a security feed that Anne glances at too. Once it establishes a connection, he searches for a security feed near the hospital. With this, it reveals Sasha in a fresh new battle armour being carried by soldier guard Newts. Andrias can tell they are taking her to the prison, which leads him to tap a button on the screen. The police halt in their tracks as Andrias commands them.

Andrias: “Drop the girl, now.”

Through the screen Anne can see the guards confused and speaking to the air, though she cannot hear what they are saying. Andrias interrupts whatever they are in the middle of saying.

Andrias: “I said, drop the girl! That is an order!”

Reluctantly, the two guards do as they say and release Sasha, one of them mouthing something to her. as Sasha takes a second to realise what has just happened, she sprouts gorgeous coal wings and flies away. Anne can see the spot in the sky that is Sasha making her way towards them. Andrias lets out a short and regretful sigh.

Andrias: “That’s what Marcy would want, she’d want you both safe.”

He drops his head in shame, tears dripping inside of the mech he confines himself to. The remaining fro-bots deactivate and drop limply to the ground. The surviving members of the resistance stare around in shock at this sudden act of mercy from Andrias. The figure of Sasha lands gracefully next to Anne, her wings closing around her as she does. Fire lines the edges of the wings and burn out, and the new form Sasha took vanishes, replaced by her usual leather gear and fur coat. She holds the Calamity Box in her hands, the Red Gem now drained of its colour. She hugs Anne, the waterfall of tears starting fresh again. Anne embraces the hug and cries too.

Sasha: “Marcy… Shes bleeding out… They say they’ll fix her up, but I’m not sure… That machine, it… It made me slice her… She’s in there because of me… I’m scared, Anne…”

Anne has no words to say. Marcy is in critical condition, and it’s because Sasha was used as a tool… How sick and twisted. Anne knows she can’t break down right now, in spite of the pain she feels. She has to be there for Sasha right now. She wants things to be okay, but she can’t risk making any hopes or promises. Andrias glances at the Calamity Box, worried now by the lack of the Green Gem. He knows why it isn’t there, but he’s too afraid to say why anymore. He doesn’t know which side he wants to stick with. His father lied once again, but he’s gone too far to turn back from him now. Yet here he is, defying his father more than he ever has before…

As they finish their post-battle assessments, the army makes their way quietly and orderly back to Wartwood. Several toads hold back tears for their fallen friends, Grime being one of them. He’s never seen Sasha be so helpless, so shattered before. He left her to confront something horrific, and for that he’s ashamed. Residents of Wartwood, while not suffering the same losses as the toads, still tread carefully, shaken by a battle more chaotic and dangerous than they could have expected.
The Plantars hang back, deeply concerned for Anne and Sasha’s safety. She continuously reassures them that they’re fine. She eventually convinces them to go on ahead and she will catch up with them. Sasha’s stoic façade for motivating her troops shatters once she knows no one other than Anne and Andrias will see her cry. She hoists both her swords on her left shoulder, one of which still covered in the insect blood from Marcy. She heads towards her army, refusing to look it in the eye. Anne begins to follow behind, but Andrias stops her before she leaves with the rest.

Andrias: “Wait… I… I cannot guarantee that we will meet on good terms ever again. Your rebellion is still a mistake that we will claw out. It’s just… I want Marcy to be safe, too… I want her to feel safe with me again… And if that means sparing you, then so be it. If she recovers… No, I know she has it in her… When she recovers, I will ensure she makes it safely to Wartwood… She’d want to be with you both one last time… Especially you, Anne…”

The two girls stand at Andrias’s mechanical feet, not knowing what to say. Sasha drops her head and clenches her fist, but Anne pats her shoulder and shakes her head. It would be all too easy to let anger take over now. It’s so easy to be spiteful at Andrias sticking to his plans of domination and control despite almost losing Marcy. It is even harder knowing these are his genuine words, with no control by his ancestors to coerce him into believing a lie. But now, with him offering a sliver of hope, they accept it. He knows the one thing he does not want to do wrong on.
Seconds pass before Anne and Sasha walk away from Andrias without any further words, taking the Calamity Box with them. Andrias does nothing to stop this. There truly is nothing left to say. Only his actions have meaning now. He knows what he wants to do: he wants to see Marcy and apologize for everything. He wants to set her free. He is willing to put his life goals on the line if it means giving hope to people who absolutely deserve it, even if they are his enemies. As these thoughts flow through him, he keeps expecting the voice that denies these ideas… A voice that never comes. For the first time in centuries, Andrias is alone with his thoughts.

Chapter Text

It lays lifeless on the ground. The dust has settled, craters within craters from the missiles surround the middle of the room. Chunks of the armour scattered around the place, with exposed thin wires sparking with the remaining power inside. Pieces of Marcy’s rubber rejuvenation suit that were sliced through by Sasha’s blade lay like confetti for Darcy’s victory. Even the headpiece, the most durable and important piece of the weapon, has been badly damaged. Several eyes have been shattered and the horns are chipped and on the verge of snapping off. Despite this damage, it activates once more. It pulls out its spider legs again, though those too have been bent out of shape by the missiles. It limps across to the legs, finding the opening to the pouch built into it. The ancestors begin arguing amongst each other through gritted pain.

Avery: “You… All pushed too far… Those Gems contain more power… Than you can ever imagine… And you all should know that…”

Amanda: “We needed to drain the light energy from it… Even if that meant risking our shell. We only had to push that far because someone’s son refused to follow in his father’s footsteps.”

Abraham: “How unnecessary, Amanda… I know more than you all… Of the anger it takes to use those Gems… And the destruction they are capable of. I could have ceased my words at any time, and I did not. I knew what I was doing…”

Avery: “And what you were doing was putting the young kings greatest creation at risk, when we already have one Gem ready to go!”

Abraham: “Yes, but now we have a second one ready to go-“

Avery: “A second one that is in the hands of the resistance! We do not have it!”

Asandra: “It is such a shame that the girl lived, though. We should have finished the job. Break the blonde one’s soul even further”

The head swipes the Gem out of the pocket using its thin legs, leaving it out in the open.

Aldrich: “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Avery: “But, Aldrich. Surely you recognize the risk we put ourselves in-“

Aldrich: “It doesn’t. Fucking. Matter.”

With the Gem out, the headpiece bands it’s legs backward to prepare for a headbutt to crush the Gem.

Aldrich: “We have our first Gem right in front of us… And now… We can achieve our desires!”

In a swift, powerful motion the gem is shattered by the drop of the headpiece. Grey particles of energy float wisp-like out of the spot where the Gem was once whole. These wisps of dark energy wrap around the pieces of the Darcy chassis and fuse with them, causing them to repair themselves. The chipped off pieces of armour now mould back into place as the parts of the chassis fit back together to form the body once more. The broken glass of the eyes grow back into place and light up again, all the eyes narrowing in gratification at this new found sense of power. As the headpiece snaps back onto the neck of the body, remaining wisps of dark energy form on the ends of the arms to design a pair of hands. They are vantablack and shaped like a humans hands, and Darcy twiddles the fingers to test it out. It then thrusts its right hand out behind itself, aimed at the scythe grounded and deactivated. At once, the hilt rumbles on the ground and launches towards the hand. One final strand of dark energy clings to the back and forms a cape that extends to the shoulders and stops just at the ankles. It is the same vantablack as the hands on the outside and a crimson red on the inside. The eyes analyse the shape of the scythe, unchanged from battle they fought.

Amanda: “The things I would kill to make this scythe more powerful. Do you not agree, Asandra?”

Asandra: “Why should I satisfy your expectations of me? I do not need you to tell me that this is in need of more strength; I know that already.”

Aldrich: “Patience, Queens. We already know the Red Gem is ready for us to drain. We will get our power soon. But first, we need to take back the Calamity Box.”

Abraham: “Perhaps your son has already succeeded in stealing it back…”

One pair of the eyes widens in surprise and concern.

Abraham: “I… I cannot find him. His crown is destroyed.”

Amanda: “That damn girl must have broken it! For all we know, the army may have retreated by now and stolen the Box with them.”

Aldrich: “For all we know? Don’t you mean, for all you know? It seems quite obvious that our rightful heritage is now in the wrong hands. My son could not eliminate our target as we wanted. He has failed me, yet again…”

Staring out the opening made in the tower, Darcy can see Andrias standing in his mech, looking towards the sky. No members of the Wartwood army looms about the bog. All that can be seen of them is the distant line of retreating warriors.

Avery: “Give the young king his dues. This is surely the most important battle he’s ever fought. Responsibilities and expectations are at their highest. You know what happened to poor Asandra. Surely the fact he seems stable should be enough reason to know he did well enough?”

Aldrich: “You may be our founder, Avery, but that gives you no reason to challenge me. My son showing any sign of weakness is just a threat of him becoming another Augustine. And we do not want that again.”

Darcy begins testing out its combat capabilities by swinging the scythe around and testing the spinning blade technique and the grapple hook. It utilises all these weapons and skills just as effectively as when Marcy was in control.

Aldrich: “Perfect. Our augmentation has been a successful venture for us. Had he not failed on the ground I would be praising Andrias right now.”

As it practices it’s movement more – sliding, jumping, summersaulting, all using the scythe in conjunction – the eyes take on a more detailed form. No longer are they a flat sunset; there is more gradient to the pupil, and it shines more in the light. While they still look mechanical, these eyes have become more defined and sharp. With one final twirl, Darcy slams it’s feet onto the ground and holds the blade of the scythe in front of its head.

Aldrich: “Now, we wait. Give the resistance some time to delude themselves into thinking they are safe. And then… We take back our legacy.”