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It was strangely peaceful when he had been struck down by that strange Emanator— maybe even more so as he recollected himself within the foreign landscape of the void. Whispers of ripples moving underneath his feet as he turned his body around.
The sky was nothing but a vortex that blotted itself across the dulled gray; Aventurine couldn’t help himself but be drawn to the absurdity and familiarity that it brought to his mind. It was certainly more hospitable than what Sunday had put him up with. THEY no longer hindered him as THEIR time was up.
Any slight, any wound, any cut, or any pain was nonexistent for him. It was as if he was content. No, he is content.
Here, he can be at peace.
That child from mere moments ago had disappeared. He was content, even if he didn’t get the ending he desired. He wondered if anyone awake would know of what had just transpired— oh, it’d be a good story to tell to unsuspecting betters who try to play his hand in the future.
“…I thought that you’d have left by now.”
Aventurine turns around, smiling. Acheron, still standing, approaches him as the water splashes but never touches either of them.
How could he forget her?
He just said his farewells to his childhood— he supposed that mattered more to him at this moment until now.
“Now now, how can I leave if I have no idea where I am?” He chuckled, the action somehow not rewarding him any sort of satisfaction. How odd.
Acheron only nods. “True. Though I suppose this meeting works in my— no, our favor. I’ve wanted to ask you something… before you finally wake up.”
Of course, he already knew she’d want to understand him: specifically why he did it all.
“Fire away,” Aventurine smiled, the action feeling empty. Was it because of the realm he was in? “You’ve bested my wager, it’s the least I can do.”
Acheron’s expression tightened. Aventurine didn’t know what she was supposed to express in the first place, but at least he knew she was more tense.
“A life is no wager, especially your own,” Acheron said, placing her hand on top of her hilt. He could see her fidgeting with it, the sound of steel scraping against its sheath didn’t bother him somehow. “That leads me to my questions…”
“Multiple?”
“…You’ve left me and the Astral Express with mysteries that we cannot answer with you in the cusp of both life and death,” Acheron answered, her eyes ever-so striking. “Why sacrifice yourself?”
The question made him laugh with mirth.
“Because Mr. Feathers forced my hand,” Aventurine smiled.
The Ranger merely stares at him as if he were some rock crab.
“Sunday,” he elaborated. “Y’know, the Halovian?”
“…Oh.” Acheron hummed. “I figured. Me and Mr. Welt had found some evidence in Sunday’s office concerning the mystery behind the Death Meme that preyed on the inhabitants here. However, other than that, I don’t know why you chose yourself above all others.”
Aventurine huffed at that. “How hard is it to explain, Miss Emanator? It’s because I can. It’s because I was the only one who was willing to toss my bets onto the table— Sunday won’t because he’s too interested in pleasing the big boss himself, the Astral Express can’t be involved due to their importance in dismantling this entire charade, and then we have the Stellaron Hunters whose agenda aligns with the Express— they all raised and so did I.”
Acheron tilts her head as she steps closer. “You proved that the entire system of Penacony was incorrect. The mystery has uncovered itself the slightest bit because of you.”
And yet, that is still to be expected. He had calculated his moves from the very beginning, he’d even say that he had called it when the Doctor had taken Sunday’s side, he did it all according to his plans.
There was something so irritating when he thought back on it though.
He was forced into a corner, only able to brute force his way to prove that man wrong when he put his defenses up— it honestly should’ve been the other way around. If only the Halovian was dumber than he thought then the plan could’ve gone by just a tiny bit smoother.
Then Aventurine shakes his head and purses his lips into a thin line, “Well, we can’t allow ourselves to fall to dormancy. Doesn’t play out too well in the long run.”
He should thank the Doctor for those words when he sees him again.
Acheron hums, “…Thank you.”
“Nothing to thank me for,” Aventurine brightens. “Besides, I guess this could work out well for me. The IPC doesn’t give me much leisure time… this break is a well deserved one.”
…Or really, he is free. Free as in actually free: no bonds holding him back, no shackles digging deep into his skin. His mission is now complete— he no longer had to stress, rely solely on his pathetically useful luck on this gamble… He no longer had to explain or report anything bad to Jade and Topaz; their Cornerstones weren’t harmed in the mess that happened afterwards and he was free from that. He didn’t owe them anything back in return either.
…What a strange feeling.
“…My next question,” Acheron cuts into the next subject abruptly as she stares downcast into the waters. Aventurine mimics her, trying to see what she sees. “I have information concerning how you were a witness to Sunday’s sister, Robin’s, murder. How?”
He takes a moment to take that question in as he barely remembers—
Oh.
Aventurine blinks a few times as he tries to piece that mess together.
“I didn’t actually see it, however, it was a memory bubble I managed to be a ‘witness’ to,” Aventurine recalled, crossing his arms together. Yes, he remembered showing that same bubble to the Trailblazer a few days ago.
Time really flies in a dream.
“…So no one truly knows what exactly happened to her,” Acheron mused.
“Sadly no,” Aventurine sighed. “I can only wager that she suffered the same fate as that Firefly girl that smuggled herself in here. She may be in a limbo state in reality or be in a deeper level of Penacony.”
“And we don’t know which fate you’ll be subjected to after you leave this realm,” Acheron added. “You’re on your own after this.”
That seemed to be a reoccurring theme that loved to pop up throughout his life.
It used to bother him plenty, especially during his time under that Harmony spiel Sunday spat at him. Recalling those memories involving anything before his involvement in the IPC were nothing short of excruciating; Kakavasha lived through hell and back. He should’ve died, he thought.
Whatever happened to his sister before he left should’ve happened to him. He shouldn’t have lived because of some luck bestowed upon him by his mother. Yet he still lives because of someone’s kindness.
He smiles genuinely.
“…I suppose I am,” Aventurine chuckled.
Aventurine swears that he lives for the gamble, lives for the risk of whether he’d be able to live another day or live to see the barrel of a gun click into place. Just for him.
Aventurine, Kakavasha, trickster, damned gambler, Sigonian, filthy IPC worker, and fool.
All faces ripped off and painfully stapled back together to bleed and breathe for those who have passed in his place.
His big sister, his mother, his father, his heart—oh how he’d used to wish so hard to have some half-hearted justification to join them. To use his life as a chip and break it for them, he needed them to move on.
Or so, at least he thought.
He supposed that those memories gave him solace where death cannot.
Those faces have long disappeared from his view… so what does he do now that he is free to do whatever he wants?
“Acheron, allow me to pose a question of my own,” Aventurine says.
Acheron nods.
When he first encountered her in his “original” room, he swore that he saw something he wasn’t supposed to see. She had a presence that he couldn’t exactly describe, but the closest thing he could compare her to would’ve been Diamond.
Untouchable but still approachable, if that made any sense. The Emanator’s power is undeniable, yes, but her personality was honest and straightforward. Curiously, she reminded him of another purple-haired fellow who doesn’t dance around words.
And oddly enough, they both wanted him to continue his wayward journey. To what? For what reason? He’ll never know.
Aventurine looks up from the water and forces himself to look straight. Acheron looks back at him, inviting him to speak.
“…How do you do it?” Aventurine rasps, the questions barely making it past his lips. “…Continue, I mean.”
Unsurprisingly, she takes a moment to gather her thoughts as she fidgets with her blade once more. Her blue, now turned red, eyes shifted up and down in contemplation.
Acheron’s gaze fixed on him. She looked sad, Aventurine had noticed.
“…I don’t know,” Acheron simply answered, shrugging. “I… traveled across the cosmos for years now— the people I’ve come across, who gave me their hospitality and time, I give them my time and company in return.”
“Companionship then?”
Acheron shakes her head. “…It’s to understand one another. I often find myself approaching others or being approached by those afflicted by Nihility— their troubles remind me of my own experiences. I wish to alleviate their burden, even by a little.”
Aventurine laughs. “Like me?”
Acheron, for the first time, smiles. “Yes. Like you. What I said previously still stands: your gamble isn’t up yet.”
Of course it isn’t. He…
He turns around, almost half-expecting that child to make a surprise appearance once more to talk about their sister again. Their family.
He missed them. He missed them dearly.
“…Do you have any friends?” Acheron asked suddenly.
It wasn’t everyday he was asked that bluntly, so he damn near choked on his spit when he heard that go from one ear to the next. He coughs violently as he calms down a little, mentally filing away the concerned look that Acheron had when he did so. This woman really was strange.
“If I can call them that, I suppose so.”
Did he have any real friends? The Astral Express were only momentarily allies with him just so he can include them in his final act against Sunday, the Doctor more-so to only make sure the meeting with Sunday went well and allowing the IPC to take Penacony as a whole, then Black Swan to garner the trust of the Trailblazer and also get information on Acheron…
Did Topaz even like him? Looking back on it, she always seemed a little annoyed whenever he talked with her after missions… maybe he should’ve asked her before he went to Penacony. Jade was just his higher-up and taught him a thing or two about the business but that’s it… the other Stonehearts were just the same.
Hell, he was sure Numby also didn’t like him. He even bought the thing treats sometimes but it just oinks and cuts through space to get away.
Huh, overall, it doesn’t seem so.
“I recall you give your… allies a hefty sum of credits,” Acheron noted. Aventurine could only smirk in response as he patted himself down and made a show of his hands.
“I’m afraid this is the only time I’ve come empty-handed for a buddy here,” Aventurine waved. “I would’ve given you 300,000, no, 500,000 credits for the hospitality that you’ve given me in your realm.”
“It’s not needed, but thank you.”
For some reason, those words comforted him. Comforted him more than the slash that ended everything for him, ended the obligations and so-called duty as one of the ten Cornerstones of the IPC, reflected on what he had with who he is and what he could become… and… everything.
“...Do you have friends?” Aventurine asked back, curious. “I’d bet… what do I have? I’ll bet my watch that you have quite a number.”
“...I’m afraid not,” Acheron murmured, only just loud enough for him to hear as he faltered from taking his watch off. “I’m just a wanderer. I make companions, yes, but I never stick around to be friends. I only help others and when I’m done, I leave for my mission.”
Mission, huh?
“I see,” Aventurine nods. He should just leave it at that but he’s a fool who loves to dig deeper. “Is it lonely? To do this for years with no companion by your side?”
“I could ask the same to you,” Acheron walked closer to him, he felt a chill run down his spine as she did so. “Did you have no one to confide in throughout your journey, Aventurine? Someone you can call a friend so you could be who you truly are?”
He stayed silent as she was only a few steps away from him.
…Surely maybe someone. Maybe him? Maybe, maybe not?
No, he had no one-- he knew that since the day he got branded with that accursed mark on his neck. He may have been open to others about the situation, yes, but never about… him because what was there for him to talk about? That he was hopeless? That he can do nothing about his situation but take advantage of his disgustingly above average luck in dire situations? Make that who he was?
No, because there would’ve been no use. Nothing about who he was or is would change anything about his situation because he signed his soul away.
…Then again, not anymore. It’s over, isn’t it?
“...No,” Aventurine steps forward, meeting her in the middle. “I don’t think I really bothered with the idea.”
“...Have you entertained it?”
He doesn’t think so, so he shakes his head to say no.
“Will you entertain it?”
Would he? That question makes him pause and actually consider it. Could he? After everything that's happened?
“You have that friend of yours, the one with the laurel wreath,” Acheron explained. “He gave you your answer not too long ago.”
“I… suppose,” Aventurine manages. Was he a friend even after everything they’ve gone through? Honestly, he could just chalk it up to be them being partners in crime. Yet he could try to consider him as more than an ally. A friend, as Acheron put it. “...I’ll consider.”
The Emanator placed a hand onto his shoulder, maybe out of pity or comfort, who knows? Aventurine relaxed because it wasn’t everyday he could finally air out every pathetic thing that has happened in his life to someone who was willing to listen with no other audience looking over them. No Sparkle, no Sunday, no spies, no strangers.
Just two spirits who have nowhere to go but forward.
To think he’d be having some pep talk from her was not on his bucket list. Well, first time for everything.
“I only have one more question for you,” Acheron says, the void growing bigger.
“Fire.”
Acheron lifts her hand off his shoulder and extends it to him as if she were greeting him for the first time. Less violent for sure, but more dumbfounding than ever. Aventurine just stares at the hand, unsure what to do.
“Might you consider another?” She asks, her face as passive as ever.
“Consider… what?” He asks slowly, his hand slightly shaking. This may not be a gamble, but the way she phrased it? It might as well be one.
Acheron stared at him as if he was clueless because well… he was. “A friend.”
It takes him a moment to fully comprehend what she said before his mind bursted into laughter. What a surprise! Acheron of all people would be the one to propose this-- if only Veritas was here to witness this ordeal! It’d be a story to gloat to others for ages.
An Emanator wanting to be friends with him? What an opportunity of a lifetime!
However, what he says betrays the emotions swirling from within his head. “...Why?”
“Because why not,” Acheron replied as if it were the easiest question in the universe. She said it with such confidence that Aventurine was sure that even the Aeons would pale in comparison. “I want to.”
Because she wanted to. If only Aventurine had that luxury.
...He does now.
Aventurine shakes his head in disbelief as he quickly takes Acheron’s hand and shakes it-- almost afraid that she’d pull away last minute. He’s thankful she didn’t.
“...Thank you.”
The words fall from his mouth so easily that it even shocks him. Acheron silently smiles as she then motions with her other hand to the void.
“...It’s time for you to go, the Express might be worried about me being here so long. Just keep walking and you’ll be out.”
Aventurine nods, loosening his grip on her hand and stepping away. “When everything is over, check your account.”
“Please don’t,” Acheron frowned. “Who knows what your situation with the IPC will be after this situation is done and dealt with. Don't risk it.”
Huh, she’s right.
But then again... Aventurine wasn't one to pass up on a chance opportunity to help a... new friend now, was he?
“Oh well,” Aventurine smirks, unclasping his watch as he tosses it to Acheron. She catches it without a blink. “Sell that to someone then. I have no use for it where I’m going.”
She studies the watch as she sighs in defeat. “Give me the real deal when you’re actually awake. I’ll consider it then, Aventurine.”
Aventurine laughs as he finally turns around and waves, just as he did to Kakavasha.
“...I’ll see you, Aventurine,” she says, her voice now distant. Splashes of water echoed in their ears as the gambler focused on the never-ending river.
What a strange person she was… Perhaps he’ll send her that 500,000 credits after all.
“Farewell, Acheron.”
Farewell.