Chapter 1: 1-1 (loading world, please wait...)
Chapter Text
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"—as if we haven't enough to do already, but noooo, every time I've gotta reposition it— why can't you just place it correctly? Where I tell you? It's so simple!"
"...well maybe if you were more specific—"
"Fine! Enough already! For now, head over to Sector 89 and get back to work on that binary star. At least I won't hear your complaining as loudly when you're halfway across the universe."
"I'm not— sigh, okay..."
"And before you do! Don't forget to connect it up to the console first! Stars, this whole thing will be so much easier once your replacement is here."
"About that... remind me again, when do I get to meet them?"
"Right after you've finished this assignment of course! And the next. …And the one after. Hold on there're actually—" lemme check the to-do list again... "Yep, 44 more left on the queue!"
"In other words, another 100,000 cycles."
"Binary star! Now!"
"Alright, alright, I'm going!"
* * *

It's a beautiful spring day, just like any other. A light breeze ruffles the trees, and high above, the clouds sail lazily across the sky. If we stay here, in this moment, perhaps nothing will happen. Perhaps time will stop, and we can enjoy the infinite present forever, or for as long as we wish to.
A little lower down, not quite at the top of the tree but still very, very high up of course, is perched our main character. And I'm so excited for you to meet him. Well, get to know him, at least. The 'meeting' is only one-way, I'm afraid. But don't worry, your involuntary silence is all that's needed of you to enjoy this story.
He's positioned himself comfortably on one of the top branches, away from most of the noise and commotion below, and stares absently at... nothing in particular. From here, the edge of the world is very close, and if looking in the right direction, all one can see is infinite sky.
Just the bright blue expanse. A few clouds drift above although they don't ever go too far out, almost as if afraid to float too far away from the land. Perhaps they like it here. With shade to provide to the inhabitants, water for the plants and trees, really there's no reason to leave. And what if they do float away? What's there for them to rain down on?
Vast clear blue.
Empty.
From down below, a scream of laughter is heard, followed by animated chatter.
"Again! again!"
"I'm not certain I can, that was a really good one that time."
"Just concentrate and it'll work!"
"You always say that! It's hard you know."
A brief pause before they all let out sounds of awe.
Alright, what—
At the corner of the school grounds are two of his classmates, watching closely as a third magics something that must be so amazing, so impressive, so... far away that he can't see exactly what it is. All around them float colourful bubbles, shining and marbling in the sunlight.

"There's no way you just came up with this, Moony, it's so cool!"
"Are you saying I can't invent complicated things? Really, Clove!"
Clove panics a bit, "nonono that's not what I mean! Just... awhh it's like the awesomest thing we've found out so far!"
The third flips through some pages of the notebook he's holding. "Well I disagree, the mini-stars are pretty good too, and they're useful!"
"Not everything has to be useful to be appreciated, Theo!" Moony says pointedly, making her words sound jagged and sharp.
"That's fair, I totally get that, but as nice as these bubbles are, they're not exactly good for anything." Theo replies, being the constant voice of reason, as always.
"Yeah..." Moony says, as a couple of the bubbles float down with her mood.
At that moment, he climbs down from the tree, struck with sudden inspiration, jumping from branch to branch with well-practiced ease, and lands just short of the three of them.
"I'll do you one better," he says as he picks the nearest bubble, and with a short moment of concentration, eyes narrowing a fraction, the bubble swells into a balloon by his command. They all watch as it floats up into the breeze and over the fence, up into the sky. Shortly after, all the other bubbles do the same, twice as large as they were before, filling the sky with shining pink and purple, glistening in the sun.
"How did you do that Midnight??" asks Clove, eyes wide full of wonder.
"Uhhhh I just... did? I dunno."
Theo flips through the notebook's pages again, "you focused onto one, altered its size and applied it to all others like it, right?"
"Yeah... something like that."
It wasn't anything like that. Midnight’s isn't sure himself of how he did it.
He takes the notebook from Theo, that's currently open to the very first page—'Propertees and attributes of conjerments and stuff'. Clearly the title was written by Clove. The rest is written in very tidy handwriting.

"Yeah that was really impressive Moony, well done." Midnight says. For once, someone else had come up with a new trick, and that is unusual.
"Oh! Uh, thanks!" Moony smiles in return.
"Soooo..." Midnight begins, glancing between the three of them, "how many things are we onto now? Five? Six?"
"Seven, I believe, and Moony’s bubbles makes that eight now." Theo replies, as he takes the notebook back and starts writing more notes on a new page.
Clove adds, "Nah, the plant-growing should count as one, it doesn't matter where they come out of."
"Well I think it does matter, very much so!" Moony says indignantly. "It's a fair deal harder to make flowers grow from concrete than soil, I'd like to see you try it!" Her tail swishes back and forth in an annoyed pendulum.
"Seven and a half?" Theo suggests.
"...Sure." It's never easy to make Clove agree with anyone. Anyone except Moony.
Midnight summarises, "so... so far we've got the star, growing plants from nothing, bubbles..."
"Duplicatin'!" Clove exclaims, taking the pen from Theo and concentrating hard, stretching it out until it popped into two identical pens, performing pen mitosis.
"Changing size and shape," Theo adds. He takes one of the pens from Clove and pulls one end, making it twice as long.
"And colour!!" Moony chimes in. The pen is turned a garish shade of neon pink. "We can do so much now! I can only imagine what we'll be able to do in a few years time."
"I'd like to see us making a pen that writes your homework for you, that'd be rad!" Clove wonders aloud.
"Or maybe, one that writes all your words correctly for you!" Theo teases.
"Hey! My writing's just fine! It doesn't matter how its spelt as long as you can read it!"
"Making rainbows would be nice..." Moony says dreamily.
Only seven. Seven tricks.
In all these years this is all they have? Midnight knows its rare to discover something new, but this... Is this all there is to it?
He leaves the 3 to their fantasies and makes his way up to the top of the tree again. But this time, watches them from a distance. Who knows, maybe such wishful thinking may actually lead to another trick being discovered. Two in one day, let alone the same season, now that would be something.
An unfamiliar, teasing voice sounds from down below. Strange, he hasn't heard that one before. "What's all this about huh? Whatcha doing hidden around the corner for?"
"Yeah, bet you're doing something suuuuper suspicious and against the rules!" Another says.
"It's not fun keeping secrets you know!" A third chimes in.
Oh. Just some Green-graders.
"W-we're not doing anything! It's just... quieter? Here? And you know Moony, she can't stand crowded places." Theo tries, unconvincingly.
"Mm yeah! Exactly...!" Midnight reluctantly goes along with it.
Clove, moves to stand behind Moony, not quite hidden because of the height difference, "what's it to you anyway? Too bored so you had to come bother other kids?"
The first voice replies, "we just want to join your game, it looked soooo fun!" The other two stand beside him, snickering.
The one closest snatches the notebook from Theo, and shows it to the other two. "You like playing pretend, huh? But don't you think you're taking it a little... too seriously?"
"Very seriously!" Another adds.
"It's not pretend—it's very real! Just come a bit closer and I'll show you just how real it gets!" Clove threatens, still from behind Moony.
"Oh, get this!" The third mockingly reads, "'if we practice every day, maybe soon we'll be able to make things float or disappear'!"
Another replies. "That's stupid! Everyone knows magic powers don't exist. What are you, Violet-graders?"
That's the final straw. Midnight leaps down from the tree with lightning speed, propelling himself off a branch that isn't as close to the ground as he thought, and lands between the two oppositions. The sting from the impact only fuels his anger further. "Perhaps you aren't aware, but this part of the grounds is my corner," he warns, voice low and as scary as he can muster, "and I don't remember giving you permission to enter."
The leader of the Green-grader trio responds, with slightly less bravado than before, "permission? We just wanted to join your game, man. It's not that serious." The other two nod, agreeing with their boss.
"Is that all?" Moony asks, oblivious. "If you kindly return the notebook we'll happily let you join!" Theo and Clove exchange a look of disagreement.
"Mmmm no, I think I'll keep it. Maybe I'll toss it over the fence later, who knows." The second replies. The other two giggle to themselves.
"If you don't return it and leave this next second, I will make you regret it." Midnight says, turning each word into a pin-pointed weapon.
The leader approaches even closer, squaring up to him. "And what if we don't, huh? Whatcha gonna do, explode our minds with your superpowers?"
"That's not a bad idea."
In that moment, black and blue lightning charges build up around his clenched fists, emitting a low electrical buzz. His mind is clear, filled with just one thought. One intention.
One command.
You'll never come back here again.
What happens next is... is... rather horrifying, to put it... lightly. The explosion of anti-light is too dark to see through. The silence that follows after, once the charge has cleared, makes the world feel as if it had snapped there and then, hastily glued itself back together, and could break again at any moment.
The look on the faces of these side-characters as they backed away and ran was all the validation Midnight would need for the next tens of days.
A few moments of thick silence pass.
Moony is the first to speak up, in almost a whisper, "b-but you said to never show our abilities to anyone... and that it can be really dangerous?"
Clove adds, in an uncharacteristically serious tone, "maybe not dangerous to us, but to others."
"Why did you do that, Midnight?" Theo reprimands him. "Whatever the notebook's worth, creating... physical manifestations of *nightmares* was not necessary!"
Midnight turns to half-face the them.
"It may not be worth much to me, but..."
It's so much more valuable to you.
"They won't tell anyone. No one's going to believe them anyway. They can hardly believe themselves what they saw."
Clove says slowly, in realisation, "of what you... made them see."
"Exactly." Midnight says, with a wicked smile. "And anyway... that's eight tricks now."
* * *
It is now late afternoon, and the school grounds have long since cleared. At the fence behind the building is Midnight. A little beyond that, is the edge of the world. Well, not exactly. A sheer drop where the grass falls away into the deep blue abyss.

One would think that such a dangerous cliff would be well fenced-off, especially behind a school no less. Bordering the entire island is this white picket fence, about half as tall as him. Anyone could easily climb over it. But of course, no one does. That's another one of the stupid rules the adults have imposed. For as long as he can remember, they've always been warned about the edge of the world, how dangerous it is, and that there's no way back from the other side. How true can that really be? With no way to test that theory, he'd followed the heard and never dared to cross it.
Sometimes, the curiosity is overwhelming, and the temptation to leave everything behind and stride over the edge almost overcomes him.
…But the clouds never stray too far from the land.
A lone bubble from earlier today has snagged one of the tree branches dangling over the edge. Each small gust of wind loosens it a bit, but it appears to be completely stuck. He could climb up there and free it, easily. But... the branch stretches out far over the fence. Too risky.
He turns to cross the grounds, still not another person in sight. We appear to be in the small window of time before everyone comes back to fill the streets to head to the park, someone else's house, or whatever other kids do.
From the school entrance gate the street curves around the corners in both directions. This 'island' has been so expertly designed, so meticulously architected that its impossible to get a clear view of the surroundings from anywhere. The streets form concentric circles, and in the very middle of those is the park. The only space that everyone has for gathering and making as much noise as they do the rest of the day.
It's Midnight’s least favourite place to be. And, is exactly where he makes his way to now.
And what? There are far worse places to be.
Oh? Like what?
On top of the disappearance shop. The adults always give you the strangest looks.
That may be true, but... oh! There's always up there?
Up where...?
Midnight finds himself across the street from his own house. And, behind the nearest window, is his room.
No, not his. Just a room.
It's been left slightly open, the net curtains waving in the breeze slightly, inviting him in a strange ghostly way.
The option is always there. An insignificant choice for the present, but with permanent consequences for the rest of time after that.
No, just— why would you even suggest that?
Because it would make things so much simpler for you. I only—
—want what's best for me, yeah yeah I get it. But anyway, I have a very good reason to avoid that place.
Which is?
He freezes for a moment, and then...
I don't have the time for this.
…carries on with his mission, even more resolve in his stride than before.
* * *
For the second time that day, we now find Midnight at the crown of a tree, this time in the park, high above a few Blue-graders playing games and running around in circles. By now, the sun is beginning to set, and directly opposite cresting the horizon, rises the moon.
This particular spot has been chosen carefully, for the best view of the surrounding streets. Occasionally other kids can be seen on their way home. A little while later, the ones below start disappearing off as well.
And then, the stars begin to appear. And all is quiet.
…
He takes out the notebook and turns to the first page again.
'𝒞𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈'...
'𝒪𝒷𝒿𝑒𝒸𝓉 𝒫𝓇𝑜𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓉𝒾𝑒𝓈'...
'𝒯𝒽𝑒𝑜𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝑜𝓃 𝑜𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒾𝓃𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝑜𝓌𝑒𝓇'...
Theo really took this seriously, huh?
'...It is unclear what the true nature of this power really is. Occasionally one of us comes across something new it can do but it's hardly impressive, and even less so, useful. If we practice every day, maybe soon we'll be able to make things float or disappear.'
Is this really all there is to it? Being able to do such impossible things, it gives an undeniable feeling that it's meant for something greater than small playground tricks. That's all they are really.
Tricks. Small spectacles.
This can't be all that it's good for, right?
All that I'm good for...
The moon shines brightly in the centre of the sky, covering everything in a pale white glow. The breeze ruffles the trees, and a voice calling out to him, it does not carry.

>> END OF 1-1.
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̴̥̝̞͝D̴͍͍̟̀O̴̯̗̜̝̓͆͛͝ ̶̼̙̖̼̭̩̣̝̣̃́ͅ ̸̨̧͍͎̖̭͚̖͌
̸̨̣̬͕̎͗Y̶̜̪̓͜Ỡ̸̺̼̩̆́U̴̻̅̿̔̒͝ ̶̩̗̮͍͚̔ ̴̡̢̼̩̜̙̻̠̝̰͕͍̊̃̆ͅͅ ̸̲͙̫͈͎͂̓̍̏̂̂̂̏̎̇͝͝
̷̪̖͐̇͜
̶̩̗̮͍͚̔ ̴̡̼̩̜̙̊̃̆ͅͅ ̷͐̇ R̴͉̩͚̜̰͈̤̓̄͛̌̔̉͘̚E̵̫̫͍̖͖͛͊̆ ̶̨͚͔͚͙͍̽̈́ ̵̧̤̞̯͔͉̓̑̊̔͆̎͠M̵̡̨̪̰̪͚͚̉̓̑̀̒͛É̴̢͔͗̕M̷͇̟̰͚̆̅̓͋̾̓ ̶̡̰͖̬̦̠̎̾̕͝͝ ̷̡̡͕̤̻̺̞̺̇̋̏̈̚ ̸̻́͠B̵͖̪͍̝̬̲̼̳́̃͆͘E̵̥͖͂̿̕R̸̪̳̪͓̺͇̬͐̍̄͑̎̕ͅ ?
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[@] : Okayyyy, off to a good start but likeee... what's this got to do with anything? I asked for a show, not some kids' story from the [##]s!
[ * ] : This... the pilot episode is... not the best first impression, by far. Later on it does get a lot more interesting, I promise.
[@] : Like, I get that it's your favourite show and everything, but that doesn't mean that I'll find it as uhhh... entertaining, as you do.
[ * ] : Ah but let me remind you, [@], that this is not simply my favourite show, but it was beloved by the entire world during it's prime. I understand it may be a little... outdated, to be quite your taste, but I have no doubt you'll learn to love it in due time.
[@] : Yeah... sure...
[@] : …
[@] : Was it really that popular?
[ * ] : Oh yes, it sold many millions of copies globally... had many spin-offs made too. I believe, if I recall correctly, it was adapted into a book series, and then that was made into a comic. I'm fairly certain there was a movie made about it, too... or was it a documentary? And plenty of people tried to copy it, of course. The original story, I mean.
[@] : Now that's how you know you've made something good!
[ * ] : I agree. Every iteration was special in it's own way.
[@] : Cool... So why did you want to show me this? I mean, apart from it obviously being this cool amazing show and everything, what makes it different from like, any other show?
[ * ] : I'm not entirely sure... I did have a reason to show it to you at some point but I've forgotten it now. It'll come back to me, give it a few days.
[@] : Or months! *laughs*
[ * ] : *sighs in half-hearted disapproval*
Chapter Text
Welcome back! You've joined us at a... truthfully, not a very exciting moment.
It is a day like any other, the sun shining bright through the classroom window. With the cooling system still broken, the air has become hot and stuffy, despite all the windows and doors being left open. What our characters would do for yesterday's breeze to come back...
Next to the windows opposite the door, in the first row of desks, is Midnight. Theo next to him is halfway through the worksheet already, while Midnight still stares at the first question, waiting for the answer to suddenly show itself to him. With the class so quiet in concentration, combined with the unbearable heat, it feels as though the class will never end. If time were to stand still right now, he wouldn't notice. It certainly feels as though it really has.
Such are the joys of numeracy class.

A flash of white in his peripheral vision catches his attention. Now this is a little amusing. At the front of the class is their teacher, behind her desk. It's impossible to guess what she could be up to, leant forward and staring so fixatedly at the holoscreen in front. Entirely unrelated to this, the giant holo-screen on the front wall shows a very close match of a digital card game, and every move from one of the players just so happens to coordinate with a slight swipe of the teacher's hand.
It's impossible to tell how it works. And by extension, it's impossible to tell who's winning.
And a third impossible thing is to tell the time. The clock on the wall is angled slightly away from his view, like it was deliberately put there like that, just to spite him.
…It's going to be a long day.
* * *
Back in their usual spot, the four are up to their usual shenanigans. Well, three. Midnight is well out of the way in his usual spot. Every so often a stray pink bubble floats its way up to him, getting caught on some branches. At this rate, the tree will be more pink than green, and there's only so much someone could dismiss before remembering that leaves are not naturally pink. He should go down there and tell them.
He should stop them.
He should.
But he doesn't.
Clove has very nearly got the hang of it and it'd be just mean to cut them short. Theo sits against the wall, working hard on a very detailed drawing in the notebook. Knowing his attention to detail, it probably is impressively realistic-looking, but from this distance, it just looks like a big pink circle. It takes up an entire page. Moony is cheering Clove on, seemingly unable to give up on them. It makes Midnight wonder if patience can be infinite. If so, Moony would be living proof of that.
"Oh! I've just thought of something!" Moony exclaims.
"Congrats." Clove says flatly. They are not nearly as enthusiastic about learning the new trick as Moony is.
Moony suggests, apparently not hearing Clove's sarcasm, "what if you need to see it up close first? Here," she cups her hands together and makes another bubble, the size of a small fruit. "If imagining it is too hard, perhaps you simply need a visual reference."
Clove studies the bubble closely, taking in every detail. They sigh resolutely, "alright, here goes." They cup their hands together, wait a few moments, and open them to reveal...
A tiny, shimmering red bubble.
...It's half the size of Moony's.
"Awh COME ON!"
Hah, nicely done Clove.
"You did it! I knew you could!" Moony cheers.
Theo looks up from his drawing at the sudden commotion. "A little small, but it sure is a bubble."
"Small, huh? You try it then! What's the biggest you can do, Theo?" Clove challenges.
A small motion of his fingers, Theo makes a shining yellow one. It's a little bigger than Moony's, but still not quite as big as Midnight's from yesterday.
Are you serious? So even your bubbles have to be golden.
Clove groans. "Why is it you two have something you're good at and I don't? Like literally, Moony's got her plant magic, and now these bubbles too. Theo—you... can change stuff about objects, I guess?" They droop their head, and say more quietly, "and I... I take forever to learn anything. It's been like, a week now?" Clove then quickly adds, suddenly remembering, "oh and uh, not to forget Midnight of course."
The three of them glance up to the tree, not quite spotting where Midnight is hidden away.
"Maybe Midnight would know? He does seem to find it... easier to do anything we can," Theo suggests.
"I think that might be because he's the original, wouldn't you say?" Moony says. "It's because of him we have these abilities in the first place, remember?"
"'t's not much of an ability," Clove mumbles.
"You make a very good point Moony—possibly, the order in which we were given our powers could have some influence on our magic ability..." At the thought of this new theory, Theo opens the notebook again to a new page.
"What, so you're saying I'm just naturally bad at this?" Clove accuses him. They call up to the pink-baubled tree, "'ey Midnight! What do you think of this?"
Reluctantly, Midnight climbs down, taking his time on every branch.
"What makes you think I know? I'm as clueless as you guys."
"'Cause don't you have like, 80% more magic than us? Surely, you'd be the one to know."
Not this again...
"Now you listen— and I've said this a hundred times, I don't—" Midnight starts.
"But you very clearly do, Midnight," Theo points out. "You can't deny there's a clear skills gap between you and the three of us."
"Yes! There's nothing you can't do!" Moony says cheerfully, not really reading the room.
"Um, yeah there is. There must be. I bet you can't..." Clove pauses to think of something. "I dunno, make a-a cube, or something!"
Midnight snaps his fingers, loudly, without breaking eye contact with Clove. Directly in front of them appears a shiny metal cube. Something seems inherently unfriendly about it.
Clove backs up a bit. "Point taken."
"Maybe... actually, Midnight," Theo starts, still not looking up from the notebook, "don't you have a sibling? A year or two younger than you?"
What's that got to do with anything?
"That's right! I forgot about that! You never talk about him, you see, so... and actually, I don't remember you mentioning it, but can Lumine do magic? Like we can?" Moony asks.
"Like you can?" Theo asks him also.
"And as well as you can, too?" Clove joins in.
Midnight suddenly feels cornered between the three of them, taking a few steps backwards, and something in him reaches it's limit. Leaving them without a reply—why should he reply?—he quickly goes over to the tree, swings up onto one of the lower branches and jumps over the wall behind it, escaping the school grounds.
Park park park get to the park let no one see you get to the park
The three are left staring after him, presumably.
Moony asks, although Midnight doesn't hear it, "...was it something we said?"
* * *
That afternoon in literacy class, Midnight's seat was vacant. It is, however, unusual for him to miss any classes, and a slight feeling of guilt still lingers with him now. He'd long since learned it's best to go along with the adults' orders and rules, however nonsensical they may seem. It's better for everyone that way—no humiliating public lecture for him in front of the class, and more importantly, no one gets her involved.
The rest of the day Midnight spent in the park, which was delightfully quiet for the first few hours. And we find him now... still there. All around him are papers and notebooks tied to branches or wedged into the thick bushes of the leaves, forming a nest of school supplies. He seems to be looking for something.
Not that one—that's the impossible question sheet from earlier, half-finished; not that one either—a rain-soaked textbook from literacy class from a few years ago, the text inside smudged to the point of being unreadable; this could be— nope, that's homework from last season.
What is it you're looking for, exactly?
I overheard some Reds earlier saying they need to bring in their literacy textbooks tomorrow. I can't find mine anywhere.
I see... Is there any other place it could be?
I swear I saw it somewhere here recently. All of this stuff is from the past few days...
The Yellow-grade textbook says otherwise.
…That has sentimental value.
And you don't keep your belongings anywhere else? Perhaps somewhere more... waterproof?
There is my— the bedroom, it might be there. I so don't want to have to go there though.
You've spent the past three hours here searching for it; I don't think you have much choice but to go.
...Fine.
The streets are empty and lit up in patches by the overhead lights, and the sky is dark with clouds—there will be no stars visible tonight. A few minutes later, the house comes into view. The top left bedroom light is on. It makes him question again, as it has many times: is it really worth it?
I have to. That class's teacher has no capacity for forgiveness.
With no other choice, Midnight approaches the building. It stands like a castle, dark and looming over him. He passes the front door and hops over the fence into the garden, stopping at the corner of the house. Up above is the window—his entrance point. Luckily, it's still open. The net curtains sway, beckoning.
He checks that the coast is clear—the kitchen light is off. That means one of two things: either she's not in, or is in the back bedroom. There's no way to tell which is the case. Either aren't ideal.
He takes a chance and begins making his way up the tree in the garden, balancing along a branch that stops just short of the window. Slowly, silently, he pushes the window up higher, sliding it open wider. One wrong move, one sound too loud, and its all over for good.
Once inside, he carefully, quietly, looks through the chest of drawers. Inside are clothes that used to fit him a few years ago. The second drawer contains similar items to the tree-nest, except these haven't been rained on. He finds the textbook he's looking for—finally!—and starts getting ready to leave this dreadful place before it—
He freezes. Downstairs, muffled through the floorboards and carpet, he hears the voice of her, and Lumine. So? Not that unusual. It's to be expected, this is their home after all.
Their home. Three bedrooms, two inhabitants.
Then, a third voice sounds, low and calming. It feels like years have passed—and perhaps they have—since he last heard it. He stops a moment to enjoy it, taking in the subtle inflections, up and down, long-winded rambles, surprise, amusement... It brings back calming feelings, which are then quickly replaced with such an intense longing for what can no longer be. It reminds him... of when the nights were warmer, and when he'd wake up to the sound of birds and the smell of breakfast in the morning, and not the blinding light of sunrise.
He can't be back. He just can't. If Midnight knew he'd be here, he—
In reality, it wouldn't have made the slightest difference. He wonders, when they came upstairs that fateful night—the three of them—how they explained to him why the third bedroom is always empty now. It didn't use to be.
A sudden sound brings him out of his thoughts, the unmistakable footsteps of her coming upstairs, closer and closer.
Breath quickening, Midnight grabs the remainder of the things he needs from the room and jumps back out into the night, leaving as if he was never there.
But it can't be him he can't be here he just can't there's no way—
The blur of houses and streetlights is soon replaced by trees as he dashes back to the park.
What if I go back? I can make it right this time, and she wouldn't— no, that's stupid, she'll always—
He clambers up the tree, the papers and textbook start to dampen in the drizzling downpour.
And L gets him all to himself that's so unfair—
He unties the dangling papers and notebooks, stuffing them all in the worn-out textbook, and then that textbook into a crevice in the tree.
No, it is fair. He deserves it.
He shivers in the cold of the rain.
She's right. I was never meant to be there to begin with.
END OF 1-2.
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Ẃ̵͍̟͍͛̈́H̵̦̞̞͑͆A̵̼͓̼͌͐T̸̢͔̔͊͒͜ I̡̺͉
T̴͓̞̓͐͝O̸̦͉͌͛͊͜L̵͑D̵̘̘͇͌̓͘ ̸̨̣̬͕̎͗ ̶̩̗̮͍͚̔
̷̪̖͐̇͜ ̶̩̗̮͍͚̔ ̴̡̼̩̜̙̊̃̆ͅͅ Y̴̺̙̓̾̈́O̸̫̪̓̈́͜U̴͇̞͙͐͐
̴̼̩̊̃̆ͅ ̷͐̇ ?̴
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.. -. - . .-. ..-. . .-. . -. -.-. . / -.. . - . -.-. - . -.. .
.-. ..- -. -. .. -. --. / ... . -.-. ..- .-. .. - -.-- / -.-. .... . -.-. -.- / .--. .-. --- - --- -.-. --- .-.. . . .
. . .
. . .
... -.-. .- -. / -.-. --- -- .--. .-.. . - .
... --- ..- .-. -.-. . / -...- / -̷̞̪̈ ̷̧̮̟̌.̸͍̥̍̑ ̸̢̡́̌.̷̢̈́̔̆.̶̤͛̓̋̍̈͊̎́.̶̢̙̝̥̝̪̥͒̔̊͜.̶͇̗͓͓̣͕͐̓̏̂̌̚͝ ̸̤̞̗̒̍̕͜.̵̨͔̥͚̖̀̇̍̋̃̊̓̕.̷͓͓̣̲͇͛͑͒̈͗̕͠U̸͍͎̼̜͙̅̀͒̋͗̎̽̇̔̊̚͝͝ň̵̨̡̰͚̪̼̲͎̙̗̬̎̉̃̆͆̈́̑̆̇̒̚̚ͅK̷̨̧̛̟̘̩͔̯͍̭̣̉̽̏͂̍̍̌͜͠ͅN̶̙͇͊͒̒̃0̵̢̠̯̙͚͔͙̖̣̠̗͔̳̹͗̿́͛̃̑̕̚ͅẉ̵̡̜̥͈̣͉͉̤͖͗̃̃̈́̚͘Ṋ̴̦͕͒͐̂͌̓́̕ ̵̨̞̩̑̆͛̑̽́́͑͘ ̶͎̥̠̤̈(̴̧̲͙̺̗̄͑́̆͝͠+̶͈͈̠̄̍́͗̀͊̆ ̷̬̲͖̾̀̍̒́́͝ ̶͓̾ͅ ̶͈̱͛"̷̝̃͝.̴̻͊͆̃ ̶̯̀ ̸̹̄"̵̮̑.̶̢̔
[@] : You really need to get this thing fixed, [ * ]. That's the second time it's broke after playing a [###].
[ * ] : Yes... How infuriating, to spend years mending it to be in working condition, and now this...
[@] : Like, what does that stuff even mean? I'm no expert but I'm pretty sure [###] players aren't meant to do that.
[ * ] : Ah but this is no ordinary [###] player—I tinkered with it a bit to be... compatible, with this show's medium.
[@] : Is that why it's broken now?
[ * ] : *frustrated sigh* …Maybe. And it's not 'broken', it simply needs a good slam on the top and restarted.
[@] : Welp, you get on to doing that. I can't wait to watch the third episode!
[ * ] : It was working fine before...
Notes:
I am not making that many drawings for every chapter. So just one this time.
Here's the original design of the house: https://www.tumblr.com/theatre-of-the-mind/799495342198587392/
Chapter 3: 1-3 (reflection)
Notes:
Content warning - nothing explicit, but Midnight didn't have the best home life growing up, let's just say. Idk what I could tag this as or if I should update the tags as it's only ever shown/mentioned in this chapter.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
It was dark outside, and with the intense yellow light of the kitchen it was impossible to see anything, like the world stopped existing beyond the window. The reflection a mirror world to theirs. A mirror world in which, maybe, things could have been better.
"Midnight! Quit staring and finish your food! I spent two hours on this so there better not be any left on your plate!"
Lumine sat opposite him, engrossed in his book. His meal was untouched. And of course, he wasn't getting yelled at.
Then, "check this out, Midnight!" Lumine said, like he hadn't heard her complaint. Midnight's wondered many times if Lumine genuinely doesn't hear her sometimes or if he's simply good at blocking it out. Much better at it than Midnight is. "It says here our planet has two moons! Strange, I've only ever seen one though…"
He passed the book to Midnight, open at a double-page illustration of the night sky, but before he could see any of the details it was snatched up by her. "Don't waste your time, kid, leave all the science-y stuff to Lumine. You couldn't understand it if you tried."
"Don't listen to her, Midnight, come by my room tonight and I'll tell you all about it," Lumine said quietly, with a small smile.
"I hope that's a lie, Lumine. If I catch you wasting your time with this freak I'll throw out all your stupid books. And I'll start with this one, as a warning," she tossed it into the bin, on top of all the vegetable peels from that night's soup.
Midnight could not stand for this. While her back was turned, he went to fish it out again. But before giving it to Lumine, he took a moment to concentrate, and slowly, the dampened pages dried themselves out, restoring the book to its original state.
"Wow Midnight, it looks even better than it was before! Wait even— even the missing page is back!"
Somehow, at that moment, she'd appeared behind Midnight's chair, and said dangerously, quietly, "you better not do any more of your wicked tricks from now on, especially tomorrow. Or there will be serious consequences."
Midnight turned around in his chair to face her. She looked furious, piercing yellow eyes like a snake about to bite. "Oh yeah?" Midnight challenged. "Like what?"
He knew anything she could think of in that moment wouldn't stop him. His one goal, one mission, was to show… him, just who he had chosen to live with. This evil monster that stole the 'home' from his house and turned it into a lair of nightmares. Midnight could take whatever punishment she threw at him, no matter if it lasted days, seasons or longer. He'd done it before. There was nothing she could do. He knew this. And yet…
"I'll tell him just what you are—a cursed freak of nature, see what he says about that." But she wasn't done. "Then, I'll get rid of you once and for all, and throw you over the edge, personally, myself." Lumine had stopped reading and listened now too. "And finally, if anyone asks I'll tell the guys at the disappearance shop that you never existed, so even if you found a m— mag— some way to get back up here, you'd have no place here and have nowhere to go but back down." She had that manic look in her eyes again, and Midnight knew if he didn't get out of there fast she'd point all manner of sharp objects at him, if not her own claws—
He dashed up the stairs, slamming the door to his room. Not a moment later, Lumine had followed him as Midnight heard him from the hallway, "Midnight! Let me in please, it's important!" he sounded concerned. When didn't he, at times like this.
Midnight opened the door again and let Lumine inside, as he always did.
"I just— I know what she said but believe me, she wouldn't do any of that. I won't let her. This is all just one big misunderstanding that you two have. Come on Midnight, it's been years now, you have to show her that your magic is a good—"
Midnight closed the door behind them both. He said quietly, voice tight with anger, "don't bother, this is between me and her—"
"Her and I," Lumine corrected.
"…Whatever. Just… get out of here, before I do something I don't mean to. Again."
"But Midnight—"
"Just go."
Lumine stayed. This was something Midnight couldn't stand about him. This determination to make things alright. To fix something that could never be fixed. To fix him, like she had wanted to do, but couldn't. This put her and Lumine on the same side, to Midnight. And of course, the only other one left was never home, so didn't that just help so much.
The light wasn't on in the bedroom, and outside he could see the world—the real, outside world—calling to him. It would be so easy to just run away, and forget this all. But he couldn't.
He couldn't leave Lumine here, in this nightmare of a house. It may not be one to him, yet, but one day he'll start to see it too.
Lumine started up again, "Midnight please, come with me back downstairs and we'll talk this all out—the three of us."
Lumine just didn't get it, did he? Not then, not ever. In the window reflection Midnight saw Lumine move slightly closer, and reach out to touch him, but before he could, Midnight said, his last words to Lumine, "why won't you just leave. Me. ALONE!"
One command. Full force.
I don't want to see any of you ever again.
An explosion of feelings surged through him in that moment, lightning filling the room for a fraction of a second.
After a few silent moments passed, the vibration in the floor slowly dissipated, and his hands were left shaking and staticky.
Behind him, a loud thump of something hitting the hard wooden floor. After that, the house went completely silent.
Midnight had slowly turned around, breathing quickening, and entirely stopping at the sight in front of him.
Lumine. On the floor. Not moving.
This time, he had really done it. On one side of Lumine's face was a huge white mark in the shape of a seven-pointed star. It was practically glowing in contrast to the jet black of the rest of him.
There was nothing he could do. There is nothing he can do.
Anything he had tried to fix with his magic only made it worse. It still only makes things worse.
If she found him there, finds him there, she would never have forgiven him. And never will.
While the moment was still frozen, Midnight had quickly made to grab all the most important of his belongings and opened the window up into the wider world, before time remembered what it was doing and started again, before this house could swallow him whole and the light of day became a thing of the past.
Some amount of time later, a thought crossed his mind. He had got what he wanted, in the end.
To be left alone.
"Midnight?"
"Are you alright?"
"Midnight, wake up!"
>> END OF 1-3.
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H̵̙͖̠͊̽̕O̴̙͎͍͒͌͝W̵̞̻͍͌̓̓ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤC̵̘̫̺͆̐̕A̵̼͓͙̔̽̓N̸̠̺̐̽̒ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤY̴̪̼̙̒̓͝O̵̡͙̼̔͝͝U̵͖͎̓̈́̀
D̵͚́̾͌͜Ì̴̦͇̔̕͜S̵͇͕͙̓́͛ Ò̵͉̘̻̀͠B̸̠̼̫́͒͘E̵̦͋̾̚͜Y̸̝͍͊̓̒͜ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤA̸̢͇͙͊̽͋ ㅤㅤㅤ ̷͐̇ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
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[ * ] : Well that's… marginally better, at least.
[@] : You call this 'fixed'?
[ * ] : I'm aware it could be better, but I am almost certain there is less static now.
[@] : So that episode, huh… Why was it only like, [##] minutes long? Is there a part missing?
[ * ] : I w— I believe the creators of the show did it deliberately, as a standalone one-off thing.
[@] : Ohhh you mean like filler, or— oh like a bonus episode, right?
[ * ] : Sort of… …no, not really.
[@] : Oh. So why would anyone pay the same price for an episode that's half the length? Surely people got mad at that.
[ * ] : I don't think they did. The show is, in its nature, very different to everything else that was available at the time. And if you keep watching, you'll find out just what I mean by that.
[@] : Yeah alright I get it, you want me to stick around for the big finale or whatever, and I will, it's just… there won't be any more mini-episodes, will there?
[ * ] : I'm not sure, I can't guarantee that…
[@] : I see you smiling! You're lying, aren't you?! It better not be [##] minute episodes for the rest of the series.
[ * ] : And if it is?
[@] : …I'd still watch it. *huffs*
Notes:
Still not completely happy with this chapter but it had to be written at least somehow, even if badly, for context for the next ones. Might come back to it later and change it.
Concept art for this scene from when it was still meant to be a comic: https://www.tumblr.com/theatre-of-the-mind/802215458541551616/

mattiekay on Chapter 1 Sat 01 Nov 2025 11:18PM UTC
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ray__nbow on Chapter 1 Sun 02 Nov 2025 02:09PM UTC
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sophiaturnerr007 on Chapter 1 Wed 10 Dec 2025 08:44PM UTC
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