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It's Just A Burning Memory

Summary:

Some say the loss of memory is the most tragic fate one could ever have. To slowly lose yourself, to slowly forget who you are or what you do. To eventually be reduced into a husk with no identity. Trapped in a cold unfamiliar world, lost and alone.

And yet, for some, the curse of memory plays out the same too.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter 1: Act 0: Libet's All Joyful Camaraderie

Chapter Text

 

The world was calm. 

And she wanted it to remain that way. 

Yet, 

she could hear a scream. 

Calling out for her. 

Piercing through the thickest fogs she found herself in. 

“Whisper” 

Was this a frantic tone? 

She could not tell. 

Should she? 

The fog lifted. Before her two silhouettes emerged — one crouched over with frenzied movements, the other… seizing up on the ground. 

“Whisper!” 

Ah, sounds familiar. Yet unfamiliar. 

Tangle appeared frightened. On the brink of tears. Her trembling hands held back, too rigid to reach out for what was before her.

Beneath her was Mimic, convulsing. With each spasm, he drifted further and further away from consciousness. He may have been foaming in the mouth. 

And blood. Scarlet red, crimson hue, viscous. There was blood. Splattered all across the floor.

Had there been a fight? Suppose there was. Was it hers? She’ll know soon enough. 

“Whisper!” Ah, her attention has been caught once more. 

It seemed she wanted her to do something about the octopus’s predicament. Well, to be fair, not much could be done; no one would take it seriously if the patient in question was morphing in and out of his many colourful characters each twitch. Just look at him go. 

“Whisper!”

What did she expect her to do? She was no doctor. Summon medical aid? Suppose she could. 

“Whisper!”

Poor Tangle, too distraught to even notice her own untended wounds. Maybe the blood was hers. 

And yet, here she was, caring for the life of someone who tried to take hers moments before. How apposite.

“Whisper!” Tangle was sobbing, nearly hysterical. Mimic appeared almost limp as he dissolved into the ground, his spontaneous transformations becoming less and less erratic. The foams from his mouth gently mixed with the blood that he laid in.

The octopus grew weaker and weaker as the life in his body ebbed away. His cold dark eyes, for a moment prior showing hopeful signs of life, were now dashed and drained of their ink.

The air around the calm wolf remained soothing and tranquil. Her hands hid beneath her floating cloak.

Tears trickled down the lemur’s battered cheeks as she screamed.

 

“DO SOMETHING!” 

 

The world went calm.