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"This is just going to keep going on, isn't it?"
They fall out of the coffin again, blinking back into awareness even with their vivid memories of debris from Malleus' Overblot crushing them, pinning them to a wall for them to struggle against as blood seeped out of their broken body and they got to see their remaining friends' horrified eyes boring into them as their final sight before everything faded to black.
But they're back.
Again.
They suspect that they will be back again and again until they finally find an ending where everyone lives.
Yet, they know that the previous loops were real- they have the scars to prove it.
They have the burns and scrapes from floating rose hedges and fireballs that Trey couldn't quite stop in time, the porcelain cracks from their very body turning into sand before their eyes as blood and dust mixed in a horrifying sludge, the suction marks from octopus tentacles puckering over fragile skin, the snake bites all over and the broken bones that didn't heal exactly right from being thrown across an entire dimension, the slightly darker pulse of their veins that deepened whenever they breath in the poison gas that filled the Coliseum, the almost glitch-like burn scars that seem out of place despite being among the litany that coats their body, and near countless types from a friend who just didn't want to lose the ones that they cared about.
The further along in the timeline, the less they have of each type because the later ones are always the more dangerous ones.
They don't have any from Grim yet, because dying marks don't leave scars before they return.
Again.
And Again.
Until they finally find the true happily-ever-after.
"I hate you. I hate you more than I'll ever hate anyone else, because you stood by and let it all happen."
A rush of memories flood into his head as he blinks awake to see the Headmage's face peering at him again, forcing him to bite his tongue to keep from spitting curses and spewing vitriol at the man who stood by and did nothing, again and again, simply watching as they all died.
It achieved nothing.
He would know. He had done it before.
All it earned him was a bad reputation, weird looks, and a collar even earlier, because as far as he knew, no one else remembered like he did.
No one else remembered the countless Overblots, the times he and Deuce and Jack and Epel and Ortho and Sebek and Grim, and most of all, Yuu suffered.
His fingers found themselves tracing over the countless scars littering his skin, the small ones from deep nicks and cuts from debris flying around, to the larger ones like the circular marks that stretched across his torso, to the ones that you didn't see until you looked closer, like the darkened tone of his veins.
He wished he had one of the others with him, had the chance to trace over the scars that they no doubt would have if they were by his side, even if he hated this curse upon him.
He wouldn't wish this upon anyone willingly, not even his worst enemies, but he would be glad to have even one of his friends by his side.
Even if his wish was selfish...
He was a selfish person. Always had been.
Always will be, until he finally found the happily-ever-after for everyone.
Then, he suspected that he'd be willing to do anything for them if they simply asked, just because if they could ask him, that would mean that they were alive before him, instead of dead on the floor bleeding out in his arms.
"There's a part of me that just... wants to let myself go, but I'm still hanging on because I know it'll do nothing."
He's standing in the crowd again, trying not to cry when he sees Ace, who got crushed by a falling pillar last time, or Riddle, who had been decapitated by the debris in a morbid form of irony, or Leona, who Malleus killed by accident with his power after the lion beastman broke free from his dream, or- any of them, really.
He's watched them all die before him, in dozens of different ways. It's almost impressive how many times he can go through this again and find new ways of death, both for himself and the others.
At least he was doing better than the first time he was forced to go back, though that wasn't a high bar to pass.
His name is called out and he walks forward numbly, feeling none of the excitement from his first time living through these events. His footsteps click lightly on the stone floor of the Mirror Chamber and he silences them out of instinct as he moves to stand in front of the Dark Mirror.
Sometimes, he hates the Mirror for dragging him into this mess in the first place, for forcing him to watch his dormmates, his classmates, his friends, his family bleed out in his arms.
Sometimes, he thanks the Mirror for letting him have his friends by his sides, holding his hands as they jump into the open maw of death, even if they don't remember like he does.
Now, he's just become numb to the Mirror.
It cursed him to find the true ending to this story.
It blessed him with the people closest to him.
It stands, still and silent.
It's just a mirror to him now.
"State thy name." The Mirror's tone is dull and emotionless.
Somehow, it seems like its voice has more emotion than he does.
He's so tired.
Tired of watching it all shatter before him.
But there's nothing he can do to break free from the loop.
So he states his name, just as the Mirror asked, even though it doesn't feel like his name anymore.
"Deuce Spade."
And feels like he condemned himself to an endless, torturous future where the blood staining his hands won't come off until he finds happily-ever-after.
"I despise this. I despise that we have to do this. But there's a part of me that's glad that we're able to, no matter how much it hurts."
He drops off his stuff in the room that feels both incredibly familiar and oddly foreign to him. His eyes flash over the bare walls, so unlike how he normally sets it up, but he doesn’t have the energy to do so yet.
He needs to make it to the end with everyone alive, if it’s the last thing he does.
He’s planned every loop since he started, since he realized that he was being forced to relive the best and worst year of his life again and again until he got them out, all alive.
This was the thirty-seventh loop. The thirty-seventh year he’d spent within these walls.
The thirty-seventh year he’d watched them die before his eyes.
He scooped up the notebook he always used for his planning and scribbled down his notes.
Eight Overblots.
The further along, the less of a chance to survive.
If they made it to Grim’s Overblot, usually missing a person or several, that was when they all fell.
Always.
The only Overblot battles that he usually participated in were Leona’s, Azul’s, Malleus’, and if they made it that far, Grim’s.
He’d tried to wriggle his way into the others, but he couldn’t think of a way to get to the Unbirthday Party or the duel for Riddle’s, couldn’t find an excuse to stay on campus over Winter Break, couldn’t make it through the poison fog that shrouded his childhood friend’s breakdown, and couldn’t follow Yuu and Epel after Rook chasing the Overblotters to the Isle of Woe.
No matter. Riddle’s was the only one that no one had died or been severely mutilated in, despite the ruby-headed upperclassman’s vast magic pool and prowess.
Jamil had caused more damage, but no one had died there yet.
Vil's had only a few times before, getting close on other occasions.
Idia’s had killed more than a few of them before, more an effect of the environment than the actual Overblot.
Malleus and Grim were where things got dicey.
No matter. He’d keep going, even if he didn’t want to, because he was stuck here.
Until he found a way to make it the happily-ever-after they all deserved.
"I feel like there's blood always staining my hands, even though I know that they're clean."
He steps outside the Dorm again, staring up at the darkening sky as he feels the prickle of eyes against his spine from Rook. A sigh falls from his lips when he remembers Rook, covered in burns and the hat somehow still on his head blackened and charred like his skin, from having pushed Cater and Floyd out of the way of a fireball at the cost of his own life.
It was no use. The Heartslabyul Junior passed soon after with Trey by his side for the final time, while Floyd got reckless after losing Jade and lost his life that way.
Vil almost always lasted close to the end, though the first-years seemed to be the last ones to fall most of the time. He lost to a bolt of lightning from Malleus, his beautiful features marred horrifically in his final moments.
If he hadn’t seen worse, much, much worse over the years stuck in this eternal loop, he would’ve thrown up.
His stomach for gore had become much stronger out of necessity, as had the tears that used to near constantly fall from his eyes dried up with the passing of time.
If they hadn’t all died, again and again, he would’ve been 52 by now. Even with the time disparity, he counted the passing of each year, desperate to not lose track and become stuck in the endless loop until the end of his sanity.
Rook approaches him, and he readies himself for facing Vil, posture straightening out of habit, facial features falling neutral. His steps fall silent, making not a click or echo in the marbled floor of the Dorm.
Idly, he wondered if his tears had run completely dry. Before, he cried into his pillow at every loop’s beginning, a waterfall dripping from his eyes at how his seniors and friends were all alive, even if they didn’t remember dying.
If he made it to the happily-ever-after eventually, would he cry?
"Sometimes, I feel like we're never going to be free, no matter how hard we try."
His memories and soul, the things that make him alive and sentient, settle back into his memory banks, filling them with flashes of days spent laughing along with his friends, of fighting and joking and playing together, and of dying side by side.
Again and again.
They always seemed cursed to last until the end, cursed to die one by one and force the others to watch the life drain out of their eyes.
There was an order to it; he wasn't sure of the exacts, but there was a gap of six loops between each time he died last, not counting the first few loops.
Even though he knew that he’d be back, back at the beginning again, that didn’t make the pain of losing them any better. Rather, it seemed to hurt more and more every time because he knew that it’d happen and he’d be the only one to remember seeing his upperclassmen, his friends, his brother, bleed out, coating the floor and his hands until the next loop wiped them clean, before his very eyes.
Even though he could look at his hands and find not a speck of dust on them, even with Idia’s technologically advanced eyes, he still felt like they were soaked in the blood of his loved ones.
As morbid as it was, he found it a good thing. These loops would make it very easy to become jaded, and he feared the day that he didn’t feel something at the deaths of those he was closest to.
He placed his white, mechanical hand with black between the joints over the blue fire that served as his heart and made a promise that he would keep, no matter what it took.
No matter how many years passed.
No matter how much he suffered.
No matter what he had to do.
If he had to sacrifice his morals, his body, his precious memories that he held close to his metaphorical heart, his mind, his life that should have been extinguished years ago, his sanity, he would.
He would do anything to give them all the happily-ever-after they deserved.
"I have hope, that we'll make it to the end, because... because if I don't have that, what do I have?"
He steps into his room with a heavy sigh, shivering slightly at the chill that ran through the entire dorm. Although he was ecstatic the first time that he had been sorted into the same Dorm as Malleus and Lilia, and all the times after to a lesser extent, he always wished that the dimension was warmer.
He shook his head, dismissing those thoughts. A proud guard of Malleus should be able to face a little cold.
Besides, after all that he’d been through, the cold was almost welcoming, a brief reprieve from the pain that would soon come, as it always had, again and again.
It was a selfish thought regardless. He banished the niggling want in the back of his head and set his belongings down. His portrait of Malleus went up first, as it always did, and he greeted it politely and reverently.
Sitting down on the bed, he closed his eyes and began to think.
He was going back again and again. That much was clear.
The question was why?
Why him? Why was he the one being sent back to the beginning, over and over until he succeeded in finding the true ending?
Why not Malleus, with his immense magical and physical prowess? Why not Lilia, with his years of fighting for Briar Valley and the fae? Why not Silver, who, despite being human, was the son of a legendary general and always seemed to be ahead of him? Why not Riddle, whose magic pool was incredible, or Jamil, with his precision, or Yuu, with their powerful connections to those around them, or anyone but him?
Why was it him, a half-fae, a late bloomer with his magic, a person constantly ridiculed for being behind a human in his training, who was cursed to go back?
Was it a curse, for being forced to watch them all die before he had to go back and see them alive and well, without any memories of bleeding out in his arms?
Was it a blessing, for being able to try again and again, with no repercussions other than the growing patchwork of scars layering his skin?
Was it a curse that he, of all people, had been chosen to find the true happily-ever-after?
"I'm so, so, tired of all of this. And I know that you all feel the same."
There's dust in the air but they breathe it in happily, a shattered smile twitching up on their lips. Crowley eyes them warily, as they're sure that their grin sits on the edge of insanity, but they make sure not to look straight at the crow bastard.
If they did, they weren't sure that they could restrain themselves from attacking the man that stood by and did nothing as their friends all fell to pieces around them, the man who watched from afar as blood stained their hands again and again, the man who they hated with their entire being and would kill if they could get away with it.
They tune out the sound of the Headmage (as much as they feel reluctant to give the man any position of authority in their head, saying his name was just asking for them to rage and he does, unfortunately, have power over the school and their living expenses) and focus on the broken furniture, planning out the best way to repair everything and replace the floorboards.
The crow bastard flies out one of the broken windows with his usual stupid dramatic flair and they set to cleaning up, the familiar motions like home to them. The manic smile remains on their face as they work, even as Grim comes in with a shriek.
They keep their eyes focused on their work, absentmindedly listening to the story that they’d heard countless times before. They could recite the whole thing word for word, but they refrain from doing so, using the sound of the beast’s voice as white noise for their work.
They make sure to hem and haw at the right places, nodding at others, never once looking at the monster for fear that they would start crying the moment they did.
They had before and it was always a nightmare to explain away.
They speak, but the sounds are foreign to their ears, simply static to them in the haze of life. The only moments of clear clarity were during the Overblots and the times when they saw yet another one of their friends about to die, yet another person’s blood to spill out onto the ground of the battle.
The sound of a shriek pierces through the dull fog of their mind and draws them to attention before they realize that it’s just the ghosts scaring Grim.
The heavy haze returns, stronger than ever.
"I don't know how much longer I can take this."
He approaches Yuu and Grim on Main Street to taunt them. While he would prefer not to, he knows that the following sequence of events are what got them enrolled in the school in the first place, which is essential to the timeline lasting as long as it usually does.
The first time was best, everyone making it to Grim’s Overblot before things begin to go wrong. No permanent damage from the other Overblots other than scars, no lost lives or limbs, no severe mutilation.
Of course, what he wants is for everyone to survive, even with missing arms or legs or scars, to escape the year with their lives intact, but that hadn’t happened yet.
The words fall from his lips like they usually do, tumbling out into existence in a blur, but he doesn’t even register that he’s speaking. The constant dullness of the world around him is getting stronger- places blurring, words turning into static, memories failing.
There’s a fireball flying at him like there has been before, and he instinctively flicks his pen, a large gale of wind coming out. The scars and memories aren’t the only things passed between loops. There’s also muscle memory, trauma, panic attacks, flashbacks, magic pool, lessons, and, of course, visualization. The last three of which are essential to magic casting, making them better by the end of each loop.
The next few times, he tones the wind down to how he was the first time around, acting like his magic isn’t that strong yet. Of course, one of the fireballs has to go for the Queen of Hearts statue, like always. The other statues are an option, but from their position, the Queen of Hearts is the one that has the best chance of getting naturally hit.
It happened the first time, so it's possible for it to happen by accident. All of the times after, he made sure to aim for the statue.
The Headmage comes through the crowd and he takes a deep breath to avoid glaring at the man.
Yuu shifts slightly, and for a second he sees large, familiar, circular scars on their stomach before their shirt settles back down.
He dismisses the scars as a figment of his imagination and tries to forget the moment of crystal-clear clarity and the flash of hope cutting through the constant anger, fear, and pain he feels.
"Everything's so dull and colorless now."
He’s walking down the hallway, expecting Ace to come racing down in a few moments, followed swiftly by Yuu and Grim.. His shoes make small clicks that echo down the stone walls, but he barely registers them, instinctively making the sounds die out when he hears footsteps coming his way.
The redhead pushes him out of the way and he tries to act surprised, even though he didn’t even feel the push through the blur of the world. He blinks a few times, everything focusing ever-so-slightly before dulling into a mix of colors and sounds he can barely make out.
The words pulse in his head, cutting slightly through the layer of muffling that covers everything. It’s not quite the right word, but he can’t describe it and muffled is as close to the feeling as he can get.
His and Ace’s footsteps and shouts echo out throughout the hall as he follows the script that’s held for almost forty years, repeating the same things he said back then. There’s energy, bubbling beneath his skin, begging to be let loose, yet there’s a feeling of apathy, of hopelessness that never lessens because he’s starting to lost hope he can find the true ending.
Colors around him are starting to dull, losing their vibrancy. He doesn’t see or remember many things in the present anyway. His memories are a blur, empty space that he can vaguely fill, but only because he’s lived through it before rather than recall anything specific.
He can remember strikingly little moments of clarity, of the colors sharpening into clear focus. The first time is imprinted in his memory so deeply, he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget it, but every time after, the colors keep fading. Nowadays, he only catches flashes of his friends' hair and eyes before everything turns back into a blurry, fragmented mess of grays.
He’s lucky that he remembers the script so well, or otherwise, he’d be bumping into things and getting into fights left and right.
The one thing that’s still bright now is the color of blood red, of the redness that soaks his hands every loop and that he still feels is there sometimes.
Yuu darts into the cafeteria after them, and when they lean on the wall to catch their breath, their shirt shifts slightly, showing him a glimpse of two round holes, like a snake bite, on their shoulder. He blinks, startled, before Grim’s voice snaps him out of his concentration and everything fades again.
He shakes his head, trying to focus on the spell he has to cast to send Ace into the air and not the moment when everything became colorful again for one, terrifyingly, wonderful, hopeful moment.
"It's all shattering into smaller and smaller pieces around me."
He’s waiting for Ace, Deuce, and Yuu to fail to chase after Ruggie, standing with his back against one of the apple trees in the courtyard. The bark presses roughly into his back, but he barely registers it through the small fragments that come through the darkness of his mind.
Logically, he knows that he’s speaking in the courtyard, the sun shining brightly down on them, light reflecting off apples that remind him of Epel. Rationally, he knows that he’s challenging the trio to a fight, even though he would do anything for them, because he has to stay in character.
But all his senses pick up is a void of nothingness around him, nothing but tiny shards of the world around him, the pieces getting smaller with each consecutive loop.
The first loop was… well, the first. A thing that happened for the first time.
He didn’t get the novelty of a loop as good the second time over, or the third, or any of the times after.
It started small, with cracks of blackness cutting through his vision even though he knew that they weren't actually there. It felt like he was watching everything through a tablet, a game that was played on a screen that was slowly cracking to pieces, a game that he could do nothing but watch and pick the few dialogue options that were open to him even though none of them were what he wanted to say.
He didn’t play games that much, but it felt like a fitting analogy.
The cracks deepened.
They got thicker.
They stretched further.
They took over his world.
Soon, everything was in pieces around him, submerged in inky darkness that reminded him of one of the things he hated the most.
Blot.
The thing he hated the most in the world was blood, because it was something that he’d seen far too much of and usually signified that someone had either been killed or severely mutilated.
(The shards had fallen together when he saw a bit of blood from a papercut on his hand, becoming whole even though he was panicking for a long while.)
The pieces kept getting smaller.
The darkness kept encroaching.
Soon, there would be nothing except small bits of awareness.
Yuu asks him their challenge, eyes carrying the same strength that made it so they lasted to the end, every time.
They raise their head to ask their question, and he catches sight of a porcelain crack-like scar on the side of their neck before their hair falls back in place to cover it.
He follows the script like he always does, trying his best to ignore the flash of oh-so-wonderful-yet-terrible hope and the moment when everything snapped together so clearly, it was like the first loop.
"I'm so numb to everything around me, because I just want to cry until my tears run dry, except that I ran out of them year ago."
He’s sitting in the cafeteria, waiting for Vil to lecture him, eyes focused on his food even though he can barely hear his Housewarden’s voice or see or taste the food that he’s poking at slowly. These days, everything around him is dulled to the point of nothingness.
His sight is blurry and blank, as he catches only vague shadows and spots of brightness. It’s like nothing else comes in through his cyan eyes, though they’ve darkened to something that he barely recognizes. It’s like he’s been blinded, even though he knows that’s not the truth.
His touch is numb, cold, the nerves there like they’ve been cut off. He hit his hand against the table when he sat down and didn’t even feel it. There was no burst of pain, no sensation, nothing except muscle memory guiding him as he sat down even without feeling.
His hearing is a dull buzz, static that only grows louder by each loop, each death that he has to see when his vision clears just to see the blood of all those that he cares about. He hears nothing, but can envision Vil’s voice and the words that he says perfectly, after years of watching the older man take charge until the very end.
His scent can barely pick up the perfume constantly there in Pomefiore, despite knowing that it’s just as strong as it was the first time around. He wants to say that he just got used to it, but he knows that’s not the truth. He knows that its the years of time spent growing numb to everything but the pain of losing his friends, the sorrow from watching them all shatter, the anger at the ones who could have helped, and the hatred from being unable to help.
His taste buds are numb, though he feels like it’s a blessing sometimes, considering how he had to sprinkle onions on his food just to stomach it in the original timeline. He swallows the food, he knows that it’s going down his throat, but he doesn’t feel any of it. He didn’t feel it in his mouth, he doesn’t remember swallowing it, and he doesn’t know why he’s here when he doesn’t feel like he’s eaten anything at all.
Yuu, Ace, and Deuce look up to glance at him and he’s aware that others are too, but he only vaguely registers them before going to turn back to his food. He pauses when he sees their sleeve ride up and he catches a glimpse of a glitchy-looking burn scar on their arm before they push it back down.
He knows where that type of scar comes from. He has some of his own, from Idia’s Overblot. He knows that Yuu shouldn’t have that type of scar yet.
He knows that for a moment, everything became clear and he could taste the food in his mouth, which he hadn’t been able to for years, and that in that moment, a ray of hope pierced through the constant maelstrom of his emotions before everything fell back into numbness again.
He can’t rely on his eyes. He knows that they barely work.
But he tucks the memories alongside his treasured ones and goes back to eating something he can’t taste.
"I can't feel anything anymore. And that's what scares me the most, these days."
He smiles as he hovers his way out of the Dorm, but he’s sure that if anyone were to see it from beneath his mask, it would be strained beyond belief. It feels so, so fake that he’s shocked that Idia couldn’t tell how much he’s lying just to get it on his face.
At this point in time, he’s still supposed to be an AI. He shouldn’t be able to feel proper emotions, despite how much time and effort Idia put into making him as close to the human Ortho Shroud as possible. But he knows that he has his heart from after he got back from S.T.Y.X.
So then why can’t he feel anything anymore?
Even before he had his soul and was enrolled as a proper student at NRC, he could smile without any struggle. Sure, you couldn’t really see it, but you could see his eyes crinkle warmly, hear the joy and warmth in his voice, artificial as it may be.
But now?
Now his smiles are forced beyond belief, he has to force a semblance of joy or chiding or sorrow or anything into his tone, and he’s so, so scared of losing his humanity.
The fear is the one thing he can feel clearly now.
He’s known that he’s not real. He’s known since the day he was created that he was made as a replacement for the real brother that Idia had loved.
He thought he’d made his peace with that fact. He thought that he’d made his peace with the idea that Idia’s love for him might not be for him, but rather for the human Ortho.
That didn’t mean that the idea of losing what made his friends first drawn to him didn’t hurt.
He’s not human. He’s never been human.
So why does it scare him so much to be losing what makes him something that he’s not truly?
As he hovers into Mr. Sam’s shop, he passes by Yuu, who’s currently buying groceries and tuna for Grim. They turn to look at him, studying with a wide, curious gaze, and he pushes down the pain of not being recognized by one of his closest friends.
There's a flash of pain and loneliness and longing burning in their eyes that he’s never seen before, and he’s shocked into confusion for one moment before their eyes return to normal.
He’s not human. His eyes should be top notch thanks to Idia.
But there’s no explanation for what just happened.
Or the surge of confusion, shock, pain, and the smallest flash of hope now running through his metaphorical veins.
"Every time, I love them more and more. Every time, it hurts more and more."
He’s sitting on his bed, staring at his hands and the tears slowly drying before new ones fall once more and erase all the progress that’s been made.
A fae’s love is ravenous, something that can’t be stopped. It doesn’t matter if the love is just love or Love, it’s still an incredible force of nature.
There are reasons why human tales are filled with warnings.
Warnings to run, if a fae falls for you.
Warnings to stay out of their possession, because if they have you, they’ll do anything to keep you.
Warnings to say ‘til death do us part, so you won’t be bound forever.
These are written down, passed down from person to person, falling through history and scribbled down on pages in a panicked rush for a reason.
He knows why Malleus Overblotted.
He knows that even when he escapes the constant cycle of pain, he’ll likely lose Silver before him and then Malleus will lose him and Lilia and Yuu.
He knows that there’s a part of him that fears oh-so-much when his friends die, because he’s already lost them enough and he doesn’t want to lose them anymore.
He’s never been a person to love swiftly.
He falls slow, because he’s never been one to swiftly trust, but when he does?
He keeps falling, forever and ever, until the end of time, because his love always hungers for more and when he’s found someone, they’ll always have something else for him to love.
He loves Silver, Malleus, and Lilia.
He doesn’t Love them.
But he loves them, and that’s enough for him to keep finding more.
More to love, and the more he loves them, the more it hurts to keep losing them to the throes of death.
His love clouds his view, even though the rational part of him doesn’t want to get closer, because then it’ll hurt even more, but he keeps falling, keeps getting closer, because he knows that they’ll die anyway.
And if it’s going to hurt, he might as well spend as much time with them as possible before it hits.
He’s never been good at controlling his impulses.
But there’s a moment when he sees hope, determination, fear, pain, loneliness, anger, despair, and sorrow all together as one in Yuu’s eyes. There’s a moment when he sees a large burn scar on their side that he knows wasn’t there the first time, so shouldn’t be there now.
He recognizes both of those.
He sees them every time he looks in the mirror.
There’s a horrible, terrible, impulsive part of him-
Hope to make it through the year.
Determination to get them all through.
Fear that it’ll all fall apart before it's over.
Pain from losing them all, again and again.
Loneliness, because there’s no one else that shares your pain.
Anger at the world, for letting it happen, at them, for falling to their despair, at those who stood by and watched silently.
Despair, because it’s not working and there isn’t anything you can do to save them.
Sorrow, because everything hurts so, so much and you’re falling to pieces alongside those you couldn’t help in time.
-that just wants to march up to them and-
Burn scars are unique.
He’d recognize them from anywhere.
He has more than a few himself, from when he and Silver were just getting used to their magic.
It hurts, that Yuu had to go through such pain to get a large one like he saw, but something inside of him crows in delight at having a matching scar as his friend.
He shoves that part of himself down and locks it away.
-demand to know where they came from, because it looks oh-so-familiar, but for once, he curbs his impulses and doesn’t ask.
"I'll see you all again. Even though you won't remember this."
They made it to Grim this time. As always, they’ve lost almost all of the others, leaving them with only the other first-years.
They don’t know why they all survive that long, when everyone else is more talented than them.
Maybe Grim remembers that they’re his friends, deep down, even though they feel so distant from everything now.
Maybe Fate just has a twisted sense of humor.
Either way, the thirty-seventh loop comes to an end when a support beam that a fireball had charred earlier falls from the constant shaking that the building’s going through and they aren’t able to get away in time.
A crazed laugh slips out of their mouth, bitter smile twitching up brokenly as they stare into their friends’ eyes.
Frozen (playful) scarlet, stunned (assiduous) cerulean, shattered (steadfast) gold, terrified (spirited) cyan, horrified (curious) yellow, and pained (loyal) chartreuse met broken (calm) brown for a final moment that all of them knew wasn’t final.
It was getting harder and harder to breathe.
They forced their smile into something gentler, something more natural even though it was more of a struggle than it ever had been and forced out their last words for the thirty-seventh timeline.
"I-what?"
Again?
Even if they wouldn't remember it?
Were they-
His train of thought is cut off by Jack calling for them to run, as he looks up to see Grim charging up a new blast of fire.
Still, everything is so, so clear now, clearer than it has been in years, despite the panic and fear and pain and hope thrumming through his mind.
And he hopes, he hopes against the odds, that maybe he has someone to trace the scars of and let them trace his back as they tell their stories in low, quiet murmurs.
"Do you mean-"
Are they looping too?
Even as he pushes his legs to run as fast as he can, all he can think about is that singular question and-
-and the wonderful, vibrant colors all around him, brighter than they have been in years.
He can see Ace's orange-red hair and scarlet eyes.
He can see Jack's white ears and orange pen.
He can see-
He can see the blood staining the ground of the battlefield, the blood covering their hands, like he always has been able to.
"Wait, what do you-"
Everything's back together again.
He can't see anymore of that horrible, inky darkness except he can, because there's an Overblot going on right now, isn't there?
But still-
But still, he can see the world around him without the cracks in his vision.
And he finally feels back in control of his body, rather than letting the script guide him.
And this time-
This time, he's ready for the end, because he needs the beginning to come again.
"Are you saying-"
His senses are working in overdrive, and they might have overwhelmed him after he got used to not having them, except that he never got used to it, just accepted it.
His eyes caught on Yuu, dying.
His ears heard their final words.
Except that they're not the last, and he knows that, and something inside him knows that all of them, including Yuu, know that too.
There's the scent of blood, death, dust, and blot mixing in the air, a familiar blend that he knows all too well.
Still, something in him relishes at being able to smell it again, even though he knows the horrible connotations that come with it.
"Yuu-"
Ortho knows, logically, that he should be focusing on the battle, focusing on the blasts of fire and cosmic magic-
But he also knows that this loop is lost.
It was lost the moment that Jamil died defending Kalim against a wave of blue fire.
He wants to find the true happily-ever-after.
But that means making it to the end with everyone alive.
He doesn't care if they're missing limbs or scarred beyond recognition, he just needs them alive.
If they're alive, that's good enough for him.
"Human- no, Yuu, have you been-"
Sebek loves his friends.
It's something that's verging into the territory of Love, but he doesn't want to think about that because-
A fae's love, as stated before, is something to be feared.
He knows, that when his friends speak with absolute certainty-
Well, when they do, he needs to listen.
Even when they make no sense, he listen.
He knows the meaning behind Yuu's words.
He just doesn't want to accept it.
"Well, here we are again."
And they're falling out of the coffin again, broken smile still on their lips.
They're sure that Grim's asking for their robes, but everything is so dull-
The haze is so much thicker-
They can barely tell what they're doing-
They're sure they're still following the script-
There's a burn on their hand, but they can't even feel it-
They don't know how much longer their sanity has left.
"But this time..."
He's awake again and, for the first time, doesn't feel the urge to yell at the incompetent crow.
Because-
There's hope, there, sparkling brightly in his heart for the first time in years, because, despite how his grades and action seem, he's not stupid.
He saw the looks in the others' eyes.
He thinks, no he knows that they're looping too.
-he has a goal in mind.
Usually, during the Sorting Ceremony, he just takes the time to readjust to being back in the world of the living and force down his emotions.
Not this time.
"This time, something's different."
There are so many colors, now that he's aware of his surroundings.
They're all so vibrant, and he could lose himself looking at them, except that he has people to speak to.
He wants to trade banter with Ace, wants to run with Jack, wants to scream on the beach with Epel, wants to ask and answer questions with Ortho, wants to argue with Sebek, wants to laugh with Yuu-
He wants, wants, wants more-
He wants them to remember but-
But-
If this isn't real-
If this is just a false hope...
He doesn't think he'll see any of the wonderful colors surrounding him ever again.
"And we can all feel it."
Everything's so clear...
Clearer than it has been in years.
His senses are assaulted with a blend of... well, everything that he hasn't smelled, heard, or seen in years.
Vibrant colors, like the bright red of blood-
New scents, from new people-
A low murmur of voices as they get sorted, one by one.
He doesn't care where he'll get sorted.
He knows where he'll go.
He just has some things that he needs to do.
"There's a feeling, of hope and fear that sits at the center of my psyche."
There's a tug on his sleeve and he turns to look at Ace, like he has all these years.
"Hey," the redhead hisses at him in a whisper. "Epel. Do you remember?"
And there's-
There's a burst-
A burst of hope and joy and everything in between blooms in his chest.
"Yes."
He forces as much emotion into his voice as possible, because there's finally someone who shares his pain, and he doesn't know how long Ace has been doing this but-
A familiar hand reaches up to brush away the tears that he now realizes he's crying and he flushes slightly at the action.
Ace smirks at him, but there's something soft and warm beneath the usual snark and-
Oh goodness. This could be an issue.
"There's a low buzz, of hope and fear in the air that feels... separate, from the rest."
All of them...
All seven of them, are so very broken, aren't they?
But-
But if he's right...
Maybe they can learn to patch each other back together.
It's what he hopes for, desperately.
But if he's wrong...
He doesn't know if he can put himself together for another loop.
"And together... maybe that's how we'll find it."
Ace and Epel are speaking over in the corner, a bright spark in their eyes that he doesn't know how he missed when it first went out.
And something inside him, buried deep within-
It sparks.
Bright, electrifying sparks that set his heart ablaze.
He knows-
He knows.
He knows that they've been stuck, all these years with him.
And somewhere in those years, love made the transition to Love.
"My mind and body are broken and shattered beyond repair."
There's a knock on the door, before the crow bastard comes back, in the first morning.
This is new.
This hasn't happened before.
They'd like to hope that this means something good, but-
Their well of hope dried up years ago.
"And maybe it can't become what it was before again."
Yuu opens the door, and their eyes are so, so dull in a way that stabs Ace in the heart.
But he knows why.
He's sure his eyes used to look like that too.
There's a certain dead look in those that have given up hope.
He's seen it when he's stared into the mirror, when he had presence of mind or could drag himself back enough to get ready for the day.
He's seen it in Deuce's eyes, a colorless sheen taking over the cerulean that he knows so well.
He's seen it in Epel's eyes, the bright and spirited cyan lost, a certain paleness that you couldn't see until you looked closer replacing the colors bit by bit.
He didn't like it in the others.
He certainly didn't like it in Yuu.
Hopefully, the news that they're bringing will light that fire once more.
"But maybe, maybe."
Ramshackle is a place of familiarity for Deuce.
A home, so to say.
He knows these walls intimately, he knows where everything is before and after the place is cleaned up, because Yuu always puts everything in the same place.
But the colors-
The colors are just as vibrant as his first year, and that year, he didn't take the time to memorize the colors in Ramshackle.
He had thought that he would be able to see colors forever.
He had thought that he would have two more years to memorize the colors.
He's had thirty-seven years since his first one.
But the colors were never the same as the first time.
This time...
This time, he'll be sure to memorize the colors too.
"We can make it into something new."
Ramshackle is, well, as the name says, Ramshackle.
Still, when they sit down, there's something comforting about the dust that's sent up into the air.
And when he glances at his friends, he can tell that they think the same.
Ace sinks into the floor beneath him with a contented sigh.
Deuce's smile (it's something soft and warm, but broken and crazed, because all of them are) slips onto his face.
Epel settles on a floorboard that he's pretty sure would break if it wasn't Epel on it, his own broken grin twitching up.
Ortho hovers in place, glancing around in shock because he'd never been there before the Shroud brothers renovated the whole place.
Sebek eyes the dust with a distrustful glance before sitting down primly.
And something in him, it clicks as he studies his friends.
Something's missing though.
Yuu.
"And I hope, that for you."
He's not quite sure how to do this.
Ace saves him by blurting out, "We remember!"
Okay, maybe not saves because that does not help their situation any.
Or maybe-
Maybe it does.
Maybe it does because Yuu's calm brown eyes that he's never seen break before are now wide and hopeful.
Maybe it doesn't, because Yuu's crying. Crying glittering, crystalline tears that slip down their cheeks that he's tempted to reach out a catch, but stops himself.
And that's not a normal thought to have about friends, is it?
Is it?
That doesn't matter.
It's explanation time, he can sort out his feelings later.
"For you..."
Yuu forces out a shaking and broken, "How much?"
And well...
They remember everything.
He knows that all of them have lived through thirty-seven loops thinking that they're on their own.
He knows that all of them aren't alone anymore.
Yuu...
Yuu doesn't know that.
He thinks of Yuu as a sibling. He thinks of the others as his brothers as well.
He knows that the others think of him like that too, but between each other... that's different.
It's fine.
Idia didn't program him with the ability to feel Love anyway. He can love.
Just not Love.
For him, he can just enjoy his time with his siblings before it all breaks again.
"It's just as good."
He's gone through everything thirty-seven times.
He says as much. The others soon follow.
Yuu's crying-
A fae's love is ever-consuming-
A fae's love is possessive beyond belief-
Who hurt his-
Broken.
Shattered.
Unrepairable.
But maybe, maybe-
They can make something new, together.
A family.
Glued together by shaking hands and desperate pleas.
"And I think that all of us are something broken into tiny little shards, but maybe we can find happiness."
Yuu's more aware than they have been in decades. Decades of pain, pain, and ever more pain, repeated in a constant loop because none of them know how to fix it but-
But now...
Maybe now, that they can all coordinate plans, can all be there at every Overblot, can be there to pick up the cracked pieces of glass and make it into something new despite the cuts.
Maybe, together-
Together, they can find happiness, true happiness, not the brief glimpses but happiness that'll last a lifetime and make it to the true happily-ever-after.