Shit was not a good word for this.

Shit was barely even scratching the surface.

Usually, when something bad happened— ‘shit’ and ‘fuck’ and ‘crap’ were sufficient.

Because when Vera was stuck in a situation like that…

…it usually was not serious. He knew he would get out— just a little panic and cursing was needed to lighten the mood.

You get it?

But not this time.

Definitely not this time.

I mean— it was serious, yes…

…but no one would think that it was.

It was so much more to him than anyone else.

So, what exactly happened?

While Vera was fighting… his opponent… went a little too overboard…

…and maybe fucked up his hair.

HEAR HIM OUT. 

Whenever Vera fought— this usually was not a problem. His opponent would slightly chop a bit off— maybe with a swing or a stab while he was being pinned—…

—a-and that’s what gave it its good looks! The messy, weirdly cut layers, choppy and wild…

Sometimes, it would tear off a knot in his hair he couldn’t brush out. That was good!

But now…

Vera would never have to worry about knots ever again!

This is somewhat exactly what he told Rhine, who took one look at his now extremely uneven hair— which was enough to make her face drop.

And now Vera had to cut it all off.

Because he wasn’t gonna walk around— looking like some fuckin’ dork— with half his hair to his shoulder and the other half touching the ground.

This was not a situation to make light of.

Vera’s ego and every bit of self confidence he ever thought he could’ve mustered was gone.

Completely, utterly, gone.

Hair can change a man.

***

Step 1: Open the Box

“It’s not so bad! You look cute!” QD reassured him.

Vera stared at himself in the mirror for so long— he felt like he would get sick of this reflection and want to punch it out. “…no… it looks terrible…”

QD sighed. She ran a hand through his hair again, ruffling it out. “It’s a lot softer, though…”

“I— liked… I liked my old— it— it was soft enough.” He mustered up the words from the grave of his ego.

“…it was getting painful to brush out…”

Rage bubbled up inside of Vera at this comment.

There goes his thousandth try.

“SHUT. UP.” He hid his face with his hands, fighting back his urge to cry and scream and yell at QD, make this all her fault— somehow.

Don’t cry. Be a man. It’s just hair. You’ll be fine. It’ll grow back. It was so long— it— it’s gonna grow back really fast.

It’s not even that much!

Vera thought of distracting himself from thinking about crying— and not crying, for that matter— because it only made him cry even more.

Don’t cry!

It was like twisting a screw back in every time it came loose— but it came loose a lot, and really quickly— and the screwing back into place was the only way to fix it… but it was not a permanent fix.

QD stirred next to him. Her hand slowly slid up Vera’s back— which she could see now— and she rested it on his shoulder. She patted him once or twice, running her hand over it. “…it’s alright.”

Sometimes, Vera hated QD’s attempts to quell his anger.

But… he needed to control it.

So, along with the building anger from whatever happened previously— Vera shoveled the anger conjured from QD’s calm tone into his pit of bottled up feelings.

He knew bottling up feelings was not healthy.

For the sake of everyone else, however, he did it.

…he had to try again.

To fix it.

“…thank you…” he muttered again, tiredly— and concealed, begrudgingly.

He could feel QD nod slowly, with her content smile, next to him. “Mhm.”

He wondered if she knew he was deceiving her.

He could ask her anything, right? She was QD, after all. His… goddess.

DON’T TELL ANYONE HE SAID THAT.

THIS IS A WARNING.

good.

“…QD… I— nothing’s working.”

She knew what he was talking about. “Okay… let’s talk about it.”

Vera swallowed everything to have a civil conversation. “I tried. Again. I just yelled at you. It’s not good enough.”

“We all need to scream sometimes. It’s okay— that one’s free!” She chimed, as if they were playing a game in which every time Vera got angry, he lost a point. Or QD gained one. And if he wasn’t angry, and took that anger away… he got a point.

Even if it was unspoken and made up, Vera wanted to win.

Because winning was fun.

Oh— and also— for the social benefit it would provide him.

“…mhm… I— I dunno. I just wanna go at least a— a week. Or something little. Without screaming and— and all of that.” Vera waved his hands around, emerging from them. “…please help me.”

QD looked down.

Vera traced her eyes.

She thought for long and hard. “Okay… lemme think…”

The silence agitated Vera. He shoved it deeper down.

“Maybe we could make a deal? You can… if you go a week without something big and insane— little anger spouts are fine— then I’ll give you a kiss.”

Vera perked up. QD had never kissed him before.

Their relationship was extremely blurred between friends… and lovers.

And Vera wanted to kiss QD. Because he loved her. He really, really loved her.

QD did not want to kiss him.

…maybe?

She would much rather lean on his shoulder, lay next to him and smile bright like the colors she made him learn to love.

Though, sometimes, she gave off the impression that she wanted to give him a kiss, dig her fingers into his skin, gaze into his eyes and tilt her head to the side, her hair cascading onto his lap, laying in the bend of his arms, cradling her… giving her soft kisses on her forehead, feeling her hot cheek touch his, her lashes slightly brushing against his face, giggling softly and telling him how much she loved him, how much they were in love… he would grow hotter and hotter, the fire in his heart burning and burning… his shoulders growing hot, his chest on fire, head burning away and turning into ash…

…that was weird!

“…but if you make some big scene, then I’ll… er… for lack of a better word, leave you.” She turned to him and laughed.

Of course. Because they were never together.

Her laughter was still as sweet as the fantasy…

“Okay. Deal.” Vera said without any further thought.

He just had to be in control.

“…do you have that stupid orb thing you and Ammi made?”

QD’s eyes widened. “Uhm— if— no, you don’t want it.”

“Why not?”

“It feels a little too soon. Maybe after the week.”

Vera was now confused.

“—Nevermind. You can have it.” QD stood up from her bed, then walked to her desk, rummaged through her bottomless drawers… and pulled out the orb.

Vera, now somewhat worried, eyed the orb. “Why did you wanna wait?”

“Oh… the orb just shows people the… let’s say ‘next big step’ in their life. I was worried that whatever it told you to do would result in something… crazy. Y’know. What we don’t want right now?”

“…right.” She was right. “…still, couldn’t hurt to try, hm?”

QD nodded with a smile. “You’re right. It might be something good.”

Vera’s heart burned when she told him he was right. He had just said that she was— and—…

“—oh, wait— can we check it later?” Vera sprang up from his seat, checking the time on his band. “I wanted to talk to the guys. They wanted to see my new haircut— I’m showing them. So— later?”

“Sure! No reason to rush.” QD smiled the way he loved to see her smile. “See ya.”

Vera nodded. He started for the door— then peeled back to wrap his hands around QD, digging his face into the crevice between her shoulder and head, fitting almost perfectly between her neck. It was like she was built to be loved.

She giggled. “Dude— go! Your guys are waiting for you.”

He smiled, feeling his swollen eyes crinkle. “Yeah. I just wanted to say bye.”

“You can use your words, dumbass.” She stared at him, raising her eyebrows. “Bye. Go. I never wanna see you again.”

“Okay. Bye-bye.”

“Bye!”

Vera left, thinking about how vulnerable QD made him. She made him open up like a book’s pages being rustled by the wind, like a cookie jar within a child’s easy reach.

…that wasn’t good.

***

Vera made his way to their practice room. If there was practice today— which he had forgotten if there was, uncharacteristically— he would not go. That was just a thought he had now. That didn’t matter. Whatever. He walked in, bursting through with a wide grin.

“CHECK IT OUT. IT’S SUPER SHORT.” He roared, waving his arms out. “Sometimes— I swing my head around— and it’s like— woah. That took NO effort to do. My head is so much lighter. Do you guys like it?! I like it!”

Cory swivelled his head around, nearly dropping his guitar in shock. He cleared his throat and rolled up his sleeves. “Um. Sorry. It suits you!” He offered a smile.

“The hell’s that ‘spposed to mean?” Vera frowned.

“I mean it suits you. I like it.”

Danann blinked, attempting to offer his own comments but swiftly getting lost in the conversation that had already started.

Vera grinned toothily. “As expected. What about you fuckwads??” He pointed to Danann and Hira charismatically.

Jeez. Finally, an opening. "I agree with Cory!" He stood up from his drum set, tipping his head from side to side to get a better look. "Looks cool,"

Vera nodded, as if this sounded nice and sufficed. “Hira! Hit me.”

“…I like it.” Hira tilted his head to the side and . “Your hair must be super soft now… also, it looks weird. You look tiny. Not strong at all. That’s Aeronia talking, by the way.”

“Fuck off.” Vera smiled again.

Cory quietly strummed a C major chord, delicate fingers softly nudging the strings. “You seem…manic. ‘You good?”

“I’m not manic! I’m pumped, Mr. Emotions. This is a new look. I like it. I’m gonna be the coolest short haired dude here.”

“…it’s still long hair. It’s up to your shoulders.”

“Again, Hira, fuck off, when do you learn.”

Still slightly concerned, Cory brushed it off with a giggle. “You do look cool. And it must feel good to have all that weight finally gone…”

“Yeah. It’s so much easier to just… do a lotta things, believe it or not.”

“Tell me about it.” He rubbed at the nape of his neck.

Danann nodded as if this all made perfect sense. "Reminds me of cutting off my crown tentacles when I was, like, seven. Biggest weight off of my head ever. It was awesome."

Vera bobbed his head up and down, relishing in the moment as to give off the impression he was happy about this. “You wish you were me…”

“You gonna join us for practice?” He twirled his pick between his fingers. “You’re late.”

"Mhm." Danann agreed, sitting back down in front of his drum set. "Was wondering about that."

“Oh. Uh. No.” Vera blinked. “QD asked me to do something anyways. This session isn’t that important, is it?”

Cory narrowed his eyes. “…are you sure you’re alright?”

"That was my question." Danann hummed in agreement.

Vera frowned at Cory once more. “Dude. I’m fine. Stop worrying! I really like the change, believe it or not!”

Hira scratched the back of his head. He glanced over at Cory and Danann.

“It’s just not like you to miss practice, is all…”

Danann looked back at Hira, trying to puzzle out the glance. "Yeah..."

“So can’t you just let me off this once? Important QD stuff. Sea. Fate of our world, losers.”

“Fair point.” Cory nodded. “Do what you need to do.”

“‘Knew you’d come through.” Vera clicked his tongue and pointed a finger gun at Cory. “Thanks, idiots. See ya.”

Danann relented, sitting back in his chair. "I guess...talk to us if you need anything, okay?"

Cory patted Danann’s shoulder in agreement.

“Don’t worry, I will~” Vera chimed as he swiveled around to the door and walked out of it as it opened. “Byeee.”

Hira waved to Vera. He did not see it.

Vera did not walk back to QD’s room. He assumed she would assume that they were practicing, and that she shouldn’t bother him. Hopefully she didn’t check in on the practice…

He thought this as his steps grew heavier and heavier, leading to his room. The door opened faster than he swung himself into the room, immediately shutting off the lights that turned on as he walked in. The air about him gave off the impression this was a routine.

As per this routine, Vera flopped onto his bed, curling up under the covers, pulling the curtain over the nook.

He curled up, clutching onto his stomach as it sank. Playing happy and pretend made him sick. He wanted to cry so bad.

Vera was a man. Vera was a boy— although 17– he was still a man. Men did not cry. Even when men wanted to cry.

They did not cry so that they could be strong for others.

…women cried.

Vera made his way out of bed, rolling onto the floor and letting a blanket drape from the bed onto the ground he hit hard. He managed to drag himself into the bathroom. He needed to take a shower. To feel how it would be to wash his hair, yeah— and because a shower washes away useless thoughts just as well as it washed away grime.

Vera took a shower this morning.

Next thing he knew, the water was running to warm up, the dark bathroom filled up with steam, and he was intently gazing into his reflection like a predator.

…just take a shower.

Maybe a bath.

Vera took a bubble bath. Bubbles could make any boy feel better. But bubbles were for boys and not men.

He let the water drain and fill back up again, hugging his knees to his chest and leaning onto the wall as the water’s level rose slowly, bobbing up his ankles.

Vera dipped his hands in the water and ran them through his fresh bangs, messing up and wetting his face. When his hands pulled back, they left behind a face that was scrunched up like a crumpled piece of paper, penned with washed away and salty ink.

Rain was good, because rain could hide your tears.

Water was the same everywhere, so it would do the same for Vera now.

The only person he was hiding his tears from was the rippled reflection in the water, mercilessly staring at him.

Someone had to kill that man.

The water slowly rose, and he leaned back, breathing in and out, finding it harder and harder because of the thick air. Deeper breaths drew more air in, deeper breaths were needed because his body was asking for it— but the steam filled the bathroom and his lungs, panic filling the bathroom and his lungs.

Don’t cry. Don’t spiral and panic. Calm down. Deep breaths. Try to find the air. When you panic, you lose air. Just relax.

Men did not cry.

Strong soldiers had a use.

Good sailors never drowned.

Captain Oleander drowned.

Their ship sunk.

Vera pulled air into his lungs like he was back there. When the grape shot from the Authority hit their ship— for what? What reason? There was no reason.

Captain Oleander was the best sailor that Vera had ever known. He was like his father. He loved his captain. His captain loved him. When he died, please, let him see his captain.

…he would do anything for Oleander.

And when he lost Oleander, he lost his purpose.

Until he found it. With QD.

They were the only two that made it out.

…he swore he would protect QD.

He found his purpose in protecting QD.

And now he had to protect everyone from himself.

Vera gagged on the steam, his eyes wet and hot— not from the water.

Maybe it was time to get out.

The bath didn’t wash away his thoughts.

Then again— showers did.

And he barely used any soap.

He couldn’t wash away the grime if he didn’t use soap.

***

The orb told Vera to talk to Jay. That was reasonable— Jay could help him. There was something he set his mind to now, and that was fixing his anger and managing it. Jay knew how to help, definitely. Jay rarely got mad— that must’ve been the craziest control ever witnessed, that’s for sure.

“Your anger is totally normal.” He shrugged with a soft smile. He put his hand on Vera’s. “Though, I do admit, sometimes it gets out of hand.”

Vera counted Jay’s knuckles, as if they would be any number different than his own. With an unchanging face, eyes locked onto Jay’s hand, Vera muttered a response. “Like that time where I accidentally blew up Rhine’s receiver.”

“…we could list them out, if that’s what you’re going for. The times you’ve gotten angry, I mean.”

“Nope.” Vera pulled himself away from his view, taking his hand back to support the back of his head along with his other hand, leaning back in his chair with a jolting push against the ground. “I just wanna figure out how you manage your anger. Maybe some tips, I dunno.” He shrugged, looking back at Jay with rested eyelids that really didn’t care for this subject and the matter.

Jay thought. “I usually don’t get angry to begin with. Not in the ways you do, at least. If I’m angry or sad… I drink.” He shrugged and laughed.

Vera smiled just enough to make Jay believe, under his eyes shut by his own smiling, that he was laughing with him. “Non-alcoholic, preferably.”

“Right.” Jay nodded, his smile coming back down from the laughter’s high. He thought for a moment, still keeping up his cheery look. “You obviously know to calm yourself down. Think before you act… let yourself rest before you respond to anything… hmmm, I find that washing my face with cold water or a wet towel helps me, personally. But that was for my anxiety… still, it may apply to you— assuming your temperature also rises in tense moments like when you’re angry, yes?”

Vera tilted his head to the side, leaning back onto the table and resting his arms on it, unsure of how to act. Polite… uncaring… himself— worst option—. “Kinda. But I can cool myself down. I just… sorta forget I can.”

“Try that next time.” Jay pointed out, tapping Vera’s shoulder once, giving him a warm grin. “Have you ever wondered where your anger might come from?”

“Uhm. Annoying people?” Vera suggested. “Or are you talking about the tendency to get angry?”

“Tendency.” Responded Jay, whose face twitched like he didn’t like how the word sounded. “Any… traumatic experiences?”

Vera blinked. “Nope. Just adventure stories.”

“Times of high stress, nevertheless.” Jay added.

“I mean… I’m conditioned to fights and adrenaline. It’s in my genes.”

Jay looked down sadly, still wearing his smile. “Ahh… I’m afraid even that won’t save you. You must’ve been exposed to lots of danger as a child, hm?”

“…I guess.” Vera composed himself to sound like he didn’t care. In fact, Jay was getting right where Vera hoped he wouldn’t. “Nothing too major, though.”

“I see.” Jay slowly nodded. Vera could tell he was deep in thought, putting his hand over his mouth, waving it around to articulate his sentence. “A-and the ship? QD once told me you two used to sail with a captain. How did that end up?”

Great. He just thought about Oleander. He rarely ever did, honestly— why did it have to be brought up now?

Vera blinked.

Maybe there were other instances in which I thought about Captain… with a chance of him being brought up again later that day. It just so happened that today was that day. This is basically normal.

“The ship sunk, but it’s fine.” Vera shrugged.

“…really?” Jay seemed puzzled. “You were the only two who made it out alive, though.”

Me and QD? Yeah.

“Mhm. But I’d barely count it as a traumatic experience. If anyone would be affected, it’s QD— and she probably cares about the whole ordeal less than I do!

Jay looked worried. “…she cried to me for hours about it once.”

“Scratch that. She’s a woman, anyways, and women cry more than men. More emotions, y’know?”

“Forgive me if I’m wrong, but aren’t you a woman in some ways, too?”

Vera’s brows furrowed beyond his control. “No. I’m not a woman.”

Jay held out his hands to tease the tension, smiling. “Alright. All I’m saying is that this could definitely be a traumatic experience, whether you know it or not.”

“But it’s not. I could care less. Captain was just some guy I knew.”

Jay gave Vera a look that rambled on for hours about how he used ‘Captain’ and not ‘the ship’ or something of the sort. “…you miss your captain, don’t you?”

“No way! I’m my own captain now. There’s nothing better!” Vera slammed his fist on the table with a smile that restrained everything. “I don’t miss anything! The whole thing was just another funny adventure story. There’s nothing behind any of it.”

“Vera, don’t be stubborn. QD told me how y—“

“I’m not being stubborn!” Vera chimed with a grin. “This is just some silly misunderstanding. Really, Jay, it’s good!”

Jay gazed at Vera. “Something tells me I am not misunderstanding a single bit of this.”

Vera slammed his fist on the table again. “No. You are. Not a doubt in my mind about it. Not a single fuckin’ doubt.”

“I— see.” Jay collected himself again, seeing as he angered Vera. “See, traumatic experiences can make people shift—“

“Are we switching topics, or are you saying that the ship sinking is a traumatic experience? Because it’s not. Jay, it’s not.”

“No, I’m saying that I only asked be—“

“I’m not getting angry.” Vera said, clenching his fist and grinding his teeth. “What, now that I’m angry— you wanna move away? Don’t anger the beast, oh no! He’s gonna fucking bite you! Is that what I am to you??”

Jay shook his head, somehow regaining his air of tranquility. “No. I’m trying to figure out if this is something m—“

“There is nothing wrong with me.”

“I never s—“

“But you implied it! Shit, I dunno why I ever started to talk to you about this crap—“ Vera threw his hands in the air and slammed them back down onto the table. He stood up and his chair wobbled off to the side. “—just tell me how I can fix myself!”

The two held their stares for an intense amount of time.

Jay took a deep breath in, preparing himself. “First, sit down.”

Vera’s face dropped. He felt extremely offended.

“I KNEW IT!” He slammed the table again. “I’m not just a— problem— there is nothing wrong with me.”

“Vera, everything you say contradicts—“

“NO! I am FINE. THANK YOU FOR ASKING.” Vera drew a sharp breath in, glad he could breathe unclouded air… but needed more and more again. “Dude— just— tell me how I can stop— doing— DOING THIS!” He desperately hit the table again.

“You have to stick with me through this. First, sit down. And I mean it. I won’t let you go until we get this part sorted out.”

The temperature in the room rose. Or was it just Vera’s body? “SORTED—“

“You can cool yourself. It’s oka—“

Vera’s mind felt like a popular tourist attraction, but paired with a violent terrorist attack. Everything coagulated into one— he didn’t even know what coagulated meant, it just sounded right— and he bolted for the door.

“Vera, just wait—“ Jay stood up from his own chair, raced after Vera, and took his arm.

It was like a romantic ‘don’t leave me Paul’ movie scene, but instead it was much worse, and Vera started getting dizzy. He turned back to Jay, blood about to boil.

“Look, it’s hard, but you have to stick with me and sit down while we talk things out.”

Talking things out.

It reminded Vera of QD’s sickening love for him.

Her love that wasn't even love— just intense friendliness.

‘You wanna talk it out?’ Vera’s voice repeated in his brain, mocking and making a bad impression of QD. It needed work.

Vera suddenly exploded, getting far too hot— and in immense fury, he yanked Jay’s hand away.

He yanked Jay’s hand away.

Like.

Off his body.

Vera accidentally ripped Jay’s entire fucking arm off his body.

That was crazy.

Vera’s heart sank.

Fuck.

***

        Step 2: Read This Manual

Vera hid under the covers. He hid. He hid. He prayed to every god that QD would never find out. He hid and hid and hid and prayed, prayed, please, that Jay would get up, put his arm back on, and just pretend the whole thing never happened.

…Jay lost so much of his blood that he went blind.

Fuck.

Well. He wasn’t getting a kiss from QD.

He curled up under the covers and held it in.

Men didn’t cry. Men didn’t cry. Men never, ever cried.

He had to be a man to protect QD. To be of use to her. To have a purpose.

It was hard to be a man when he felt like there was a gun always in his hand with a faulty trigger.

Gods, please, please don’t make her come in here. Please just let her think it was a misunderstanding. Please. Please. I swear I will do your bidding.

QD came in.

“Vera. Are you okay?”

He held his breath. His eyes widened under his covers, curtain loose— he prayed it was somehow glued to his bed, please, no, QD, don’t see him— and he couldn’t help but let the screw loose and let water leak slowly from his eyes.

NO. MEN DID NOT CRY. DO NOT CRY.

Vera pinched his ear. He dug his nails into his ear. He wanted to be taking a bath.

“I know what happened. It wasn’t hard to find out.” She paused. “…it was pretty crazy.”

She’s rubbing it in. Fuck her.

“…Rhine’s pissed.” She added, only as a matter of fact. Vera could feel her swing her legs nearer and nearer. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Vera would shove his fist into her mouth and choke her to death.

She pulled back the curtain to the nook he called his bed, then reached out a hand for the bundle called Vera and put a hand on it. “…Vera?”

He didn’t want to respond.

QD sat on the bed next to him, around the outside. Vera had tucked himself away against the wall. “Why don’t you wanna talk to me?”

She was just trapping him.

He freed himself from the covers and looked up at her. He thought his face must’ve looked like a pouty child— not exactly crying over nothing, but crying after being reprimanded and understanding what they had done wrong. His head tilted downwards, his eyes looking up.

QD lifted his chin up. She tucked that hand into Vera’s hair, behind his ear and holding him up.

Maybe it would be okay.

She smiled warmly at him. “Hello,”

Vera blinked away at the strange welling in his eyes. “—QD.”

She ran her hand through his hair again, back and forth and back and forth. “It’s alright. Tell me what happened.”

Vera looked down. She lifted his head again.

She had never done this before.

“…I— I— got angry.”

“Did you talk to Jay about it?”

“Y-yeah— but— he— I just couldn’t— he kept asking about— Captain—“

QD’s face darkened. She stroked Vera’s hair more and more, leaning into him and thinking once again. “…oh…”

“Y-y—you— you haven’t told— anyone else— have you—“

“No.” QD spoke with a sad tone. “Just him.”

“It’s not— it’s not too— bad—“ Vera meant to ask, but his words tripped over each other, and he began to spiral.

Don’t spiral. Don’t cry.

“—you’re not— you don’t care, do you—“

He knew it wasn’t true. She was there with him, and he was there with her.

“…I do.”

Vera shook while QD’s hand wrapped itself around his arm. “…it’s not— it’s not bad— right? I’m— it’s okay… just… something that happened…”

QD kept quiet.

Vera’s heart leapt from place to place, awaiting for her response. It tore out of his chest, it screamed, it wanted to cry. Gods, this had escalated.

If only he could just keep it in.

He needed to find a bigger bottle.

“…I always thought you were just as hurt about it as I was.” She looked down. “…you wouldn’t stop holding my hand when we made it to shore.”

Vera shook his head wildly out of the blue, biting onto his lip like he wanted it to bleed. He wanted to bleed. He wanted to forget it. He needed to take a shower. He needed to wash away those thoughts.

No matter how many times he took a shower, he still remembered how he looked up at QD, trembling like he was now, asking where Oleander was. Asking where the crew was. What happened?

He doubted she could remember as much as he did.

He wished that he could forget— just like everyone said your brain could do with something like that.

Something…

It wasn’t traumatic.

It was just another adventure story.

“…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt him. I didn’t mean to.” Vera skipped everything and went straight into his apology. “I just got mad. I’m sorry. Please don’t say that you’ll leave me. You can’t leave me. We’ve been together for so long— QD— don’t say that you’ll leave me.”

His words came out so clear when he was begging…

She looked at him sadly.

“No— I know— I know it only took a little bit for me to break it— th—that was that stupid orb! It— QD, you— can we— I’ve gone longer without getting angry before. I’ve gone longer without even talking. J-just— just let me go— go t— I need to try again— I’m so, so, serious this time— please, QD, I can barely think straight today—“

“I’m leaving you.” She stated plainly.

Vera’s eyes widened as he stopped his panic.

…

Nope! Not gonna happen.

Vera immediately took her by her shoulders and pinned her onto his bed.

Her face changed instantly— from looking like she had bested the villain to honestly surprised that this was happening right now.

Feeling a bubble of laughter build up along with his fear and rage, Vera smiled at QD, his eyes doing the leaky thing. “No. You are not. You’re staying with me forever.”

“V-Ver-a?”

The laughter rose, Vera letting the rain fall on QD. “You’re not leaving me.”

“O-Okay, Vera—“

“But you’re gonna do it anyway.” Vera stared deep into her eyes with an animal-like instinct. “You’re gonna leave me.” A crazed emotion rose within him, panic rushing over him in waves every time he came to the epiphany over and over again that she was going to leave him, no matter how much he begged.

QD’s arms shifted under Vera and his hold. Genuine fear took over her face. “Dude— Vera—“

“I’m keeping you here forever.” Vera grinned wider and wider, bearing his teeth.

“ST—C’MON.” QD’s voice quivered, jolted up and down by fear and sobs that were about to break through. “GET OFF OF ME.”

Vera’s pin went from his hands to his elbows, coming closer and closer to QD. He moved his knees to keep her legs down. The laughter broke out as he curled his lips into a smile to calm the laughter, and at the same time— let it happen. “No. You’re staying here even if I have to shove you into my closet.” He breathed onto her slower and slower, but his excitement quickened and quickened. The temperature rose.

QD sobbed once, then Vera’s hand clasped over her mouth.

“Shitty idea. To make a deal with you.” Vera glared at her. “…how things escalate. Let’s hug it out.” He smiled at her as the gutters continued to drip.

QD shut her eyes tight. She spent every ounce of energy to break free— but it was of no use against Vera.

Vera leaned down. He wanted to kiss her. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her and gave her a hug, pulling her up so that they were sitting, his head between her head and shoulder like it had been when the hugs they shared were pure.

He exhaled, squeezing QD tighter and tighter, glad that even if she was scared, she was his.

Things really escalated.

All because he couldn’t bottle it up.

He desperately needed to bottle it up. Fix himself.

But it was clear he could not— he couldn’t fix himself because he was the only person breaking himself.

Vera’s lips broke into a grin. He would never ch

QD bit him. Really hard. On his neck.

She would not stop biting.

The bite was not sexual in any way, shape, or form.

Because QD was not like that.

She was trying to get him off of her.

And it worked!

Vera, out of sheer pain, squeezed her tighter for a moment— then let her go like a dam had broken and burst out with water. His neck twinged, straightening his head up and giving him the worst pain he must’ve ever experienced.

QD fell back, then snatched Vera’s collar and mercilessly slapped him across the face like a thunderous roar.

“BITCH.” She responded with tears— not Vera’s fist— choking her. She made her way off the bed, then out of Vera’s room quick.

Vera’s throat burned and ached. Something in it contorted his stomach to fold, pushing blood out of his insides and into his mouth. He covered it, feeling blood leak and leak and leak as he found it hard to breathe once more— and then he ran to the bathroom.

***

One thing was for certain.

Vera was not leaving his room ever again.

And one thing was left uncertain—

—whether he wanted to actually go ahead and fix himself.

It was always the same, no matter how hard he tried.

Vera had given himself weeks where he would ‘play nice’. Willingly do anything anyone asked him to do, with a smile and out of whatever goodness was in his heart.

It made sense when at first the others were confused.

But, within a few weeks of this on-and-off behavior, it seemed clear to them that Vera was just trying to make a change, though in the end, it would never work.

And everyone knew it.

Except for Vera.

He felt like he could keep going. He felt like he knew himself better than anyone else— no matter what they said, that they felt he would never change— and he felt like he could turn his life around and just for once stop being such a menace.

…he thought of how much everyone hated him.

Who knew…

Whatever the case, Vera tossed on the comfiest clothes he had, carefully flopping back into his bed and minding his throat.

He had been coughing out blood and having trouble breathing for a solid twenty minutes. Something told him he probably was gonna die, so he used some of his blue fire until it flickered black, sputtering embers and died out. That was fine… he didn’t need to heal it much afterwards, anyways. Vera wrapped it around in bandages, not about to figure out the right way to help himself (and not about to let Rhine try), and called it a day. He hoped it would heal. For now, all he could do was rest.

After spending a solid two minutes in his bed, Vera realized he really didn’t wanna be in the place where he had just (he was very sure of the use of this word) assaulted QD and got bit the fuck up.

He sighed.

He couldn’t find any strength to pull himself out.

***

There was a knock at the door.

Vera heard it. He couldn’t sleep, so he wasn’t asleep. He was just gonna wait for the door to magically state its name.

Instead, he received a message on his band.

Hey, Vera!!! Do you wanna play??!????

…Kindle.

He hugged himself tighter, squeezing his eyes shut and remaining silent.

DUDE I KNOW YOURE IN THERE

Go away… Vera hoped she wouldn’t bother him any longer.

At LEAST tell me if you’re ALIVE

Did he have to?

im alive

YAYYYYY DO YOU WANNA PLAY

fuck off man

Meannn

I just thought I could make ya feel better if we played again :3333

This time I got a yo-yo hehehhehehe

Vera ran a hand through his hair, opening his eyes to see his band clearly.

Everything was totally quiet. He could hear himself rustle gently in the blanket, still such a soft sound, and nothing more.

i dont want to play

Why not???

im resting

You’re never gonna make yourself feel better if you hole up all day!!!

Of course everyone knew.

QD had to tell Rhine. Rhine would help Jay. Ammi would know because it’s about Rhine and Jay and QD. And once Ammi knew, everyone else knew.

…

But at least I never TELL anyone! People just happen to figure out once I do!

Sure you don’t. That time with Hira?

I never told anyone anything! That was Dion’s fault.

Okay. Vera closed his eyes again, choosing to believe the lie. It wasn’t a lie.

maybe it doesnt work that way for you but I like to be in my room like this

Have you ever tried anything else than that though???

no because it works

Maybe something works better!!

i think i might just fucking kill you if you keep talking

Geez okayyy

Vera let out a sigh of relief— or exhaustion— and curled deeper back into his warm blankets. He radiated more heat in an effort to feel comfier.

He was just gonna wait out this entire situation, maybe never leave his room again, die of starvation…

In the end, it would be alright. He just had to get his head around the entire ordeal and…

…think… clearly…

…and it will all blow over, and all sink away to the bottom of the ocean like a weight in the water.

…just like…

Kindle sent Vera an image.

She must’ve thought that it was funny.

i swear you should start counting your fucking days

It’s funny tho!!!

So, she did think it was funny. Just— not— whatever.

If Vera wasn’t much less sad out of his bed, he would’ve walked straight to his door, opened it, and smacked Kindle straight across her stupid face.

…for the first time, he thought of how that would end up.

…

Vera made his way to the bathroom. He didn’t bother to turn on the lights when he glared at his reflection in the mirror.

He looked for a long, long time.

Whoever was trapped in the glass rose judgemental thinking within Vera. Along with extreme hate.

Of course— the person trapped in the glass was not a person. It was a reflection. How he was seen.

He pointed out all the bad things about it.

For one, he hated his face. He hated his eyes. His bangs looked like shit. He bared his teeth, then hated how those looked, too. He turned to the side in hopes of searching for something worthy.

You can guess how that went.

Then Vera looked down at himself. He hated his body. He hated his legs and his chest and his arms and his hands. He hated everything about how he looked.

Sometimes, he wished he could look without looking like anything at all.

Then, he started to think deeper about that person.

He hated how he couldn’t keep his promises. He hated how he got angry. He hated how he needed to have a purpose— he hated how he needed to protect. He hated how he needed to be strong. He hated how he needed to be loved.

There was something deeply wrong with this man.

***

Vera was crumbling bits of paper at his desk. He lit them on fire and smeared the ashes onto it. The paper was sometimes left whole— and he pressed his finger tips on a corner, contorting and bending the shape so it folded and became straight, then let fire from his fingers burn the sheet away as he caught it between the fingers of his other hand.

His desk was covered with ash.

I ripped Jay’s arm off.

It was better to start from the beginning.

QD made a deal with me. If I could go one week without getting angry, she would give me a kiss.

I did want that kiss.

But I messed up anyways. I tried to talk to Jay, but he brought up Captain too much— so I got really mad.

…I don’t want to have trauma. Even if I do, it’s better I just say I don’t.

I’d appear weak. Traumatized and weak.

I can’t protect anyone if I’m weak. And if I can’t protect anyone, I don’t have a purpose. The only reason I’m on this stupid Train is because I can fight good. They sometimes need me for missions.

Other than that, I’m not good at anything.

…I’m just a tool sometimes.

But not really a tool.

…like a thing you forget about until you need to use it…

…

…then again…

…everyone else can fight.

…I’m average. There’s nothing special. They don’t need me.

I don’t have any use if I can’t protect someone or something.

QD hates me.

I was supposed to protect her after the ship sank.

…I promised myself I would.

Now I don’t have a purpose.

That’s why I got so mad at Jay.

He sighed as the last bit of paper he was holding burnt away, leaving him with nothing to do but press the fire on his fingertips out on the desk.

I shouldn’t have. I— I didn’t even pull his hand off that hard! I was just trying to make him let go of me!

Vera ran his ashy hands through his bands. It would give him an excuse to take a shower.

It was just a mistake.

I ripped Jay’s arm off.

…

…it was better to start from the beginning.

I used to be fearless.

I taught myself how to fight.

And now I can do it really, really well.

But that was only because of Captain.

Me and QD… I asked her if she wanted to join the crew with me.

She smiled at me so wide. She was so excited.

…and Captain taught me how to fight even better, with even better technique.

And he taught QD how to, too. But she wasn’t very good.

…we went everywhere.

It was… kinda stressful, maybe…? All that fighting in such a harsh world as a kid… it…

…

…maybe that’s why I get so scared when something so tiny happens.

…

Captain just took in any kid, didn’t he? He just took in all of us… without a place to go… everyone who was… left alone in the world…

Vera got hungrier.

Then it sank. And then me and QD came here. And then I got angry. And then I ripped Jay’s arm off.

I ripped Jay’s arm off.

…

…

…

Earlier.

…mom…

I don’t remember anything.

A little later.

…my brothers…

I don’t remember anything.

A little later.

…him.

Vera’s stomach grumbled.

…he was just using me.

I was a child.

…children can still hurt, though…

…and I was so hungry…

He covered his mouth and giggled. Manic, holding back tears and the way his skin jumped when he remembered…

…he tasted a little sour.

Just perfect. Right there. That’s where it started.

He was perfectly traumatized.

But he wasn’t gonna tell anyone.

***

Hugging his stomach that now ached with a very warranted anxiety, Cory knocked once at Vera’s door—hesitated, backing away—knocked again. “…Vera?”

Vera heard Cory’s voice completely clearly. However, he did not want to answer.

But he had to.

He slowly got up from his bed, disgruntled, blinked his eyes open, and stumbled to the door. He was dizzy since he last stood. Maybe vertigo again.

He opened the door ever so slightly.

“What.” he whispered in a rougher than usual, raspy voice. That was surprising.

He jumped a little. Vera could now see the duckie plushie comfortably stationed in the crook of his elbow, which he now tightened his grip around. “Um… hey. I just…wanted to check on you, is all…”

Vera glared at Cory. He rubbed his eyes, then stared even harder. “Go the fuck away. I’m fine.”

“You don’t look or sound fine. Vera, please, I’m just here to help—“

Vera slammed his hand on the door and gripped onto it like it was the only thing keeping him from falling off a roof. “Get inside.”

Cautiously, he entered the room, fidgeting with the drawstrings of his hoodie. His eyes zipped across the room, ensuring that there was an escape—a force of habit, of course.

The door slammed shut. Vera kept his eyes on Cory, as if he was going to steal something from his room.

“I’m fine. That’s all.”

…he felt Cory might persist.

He didn’t want to bring up the tough subject, trying to find ways to skirt around it—in the end, inevitability took hold. He wasn’t going to get anywhere otherwise.

“…it’s not your fault, what happened with Jay. You didn’t—I know you didn’t mean it—“

Vera’s heart sunk. Of course. Everyone knew. He knew they would.

…at least Cory didn’t hunt him down, or stare at him funny for it. At least he didn’t gang up on him.

Vera looked down. He tightened his eyes closed, biting down on the inside of his bottom lip.

“Okay. Fine. Leave me alone now.”

“Please—God, Vera, can’t I help you? I—I don’t know what it is you’re beating yourself up over that you’re locking yourself in here, I can’t pretend to know what’s going through your head, but I want to help—“

“Cory— just leave me alone—” Vera’s voice broke and cracked, and his hand flew to his throat. “—go. ”

Eyes wide with fear, he started to turn to face his exit, then turned back, determined to look strong. He gripped his plushie.

“No! I want to—Vera, you’re my best friend—I’m not leaving you in here—“

He choked on a sob, blinking rapidly.

Cory was making it all about himself. Typical. Pathetic. Vera rubbed his eyes again, groaning, blending it with his reprimands. “I am fine. I just need time alone. Alone. By myself. I have it under control.”

Ironic.

Almost convinced to leave, and even starting to make his way towards the door, Cory’s eyes went slowly to Vera’s throat. “Holy shit, what—what happened—“

That was something Cory did not need to know.

“DO YOU EVER FUCKING LISTEN???” His words sounded like nails on a chalkboard, scraping sediment rocks together, chunks and bits grinding together and breaking. “GO AWAY.”

A gasp caught in Cory’s throat, turning into a shaky sob.

He shook, his muscles tensing, everything inside him screaming at him to run, to go far away—

But instead, Cory cried.

“I—“ His voice broke, and he wailed, wiping away the tears rolling down his cheek, pathetic and helpless. “Sorry, I—I’ll go—“

His legs still stubbornly refused to move.

Vera stared at him, relentlessly judging him in his head and feeling the temperature rise.

Leave. He had to leave. He couldn’t tell Cory what else he had done.

“What are you waiting for?” His voice broke to something that sounded a little like his normal one was. “Go. Cory.”

He took a breath, shaky and broken. “I—Vera, I’m sorry—“

Impulsively and very stupidly, Cory wrapped Vera in his arms, exhaling in another loud sob.

Vera flinched, pulling his head far back from Cory and shutting his eyes as tight as he could, suddenly burning up. He shoved him off, now breathing heavy and holding onto his arms.

“JUST—” Vera’s voice ran dry. He held onto his mouth, like blood would pour out at any moment. It would.

Gods. Gods. Just take him away. Please. I can’t deal with this.

He glared up at Cory through his still ashy bangs, now doubling over the arm hugging his stomach. The other hand moved from his face, and he mouthed ‘leave’.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. You cannot cry.

Vera swallowed it down. His gaze pierced once again, and he glared at Cory as cold as steel. Good.

He nodded quickly, backing out fearfully. “I—please take care of yourself, okay? You’re a good person, I know you are—“

He was gone. Regret clawed at him from the hole in his stomach.

Vera sighed. The door closed behind Cory… he was gone. He was gone.

His hands went to his bangs, ruffling out the bits of ash as he felt his warm blood pool up in his mouth. His hand flew back to his mouth as his stomach twisted and contracted, pushing the blood in his throat up.

The bathroom was inviting, still warm and misty from the previous bath.

He bent over the sink and let all the blood rinse out from his mouth. It circled around the drain and ran down, smelling strongly of iron and stomach acid. Putrid and rancid, inside and out— that’s what the reflection was— the reflection he spotted as his head bobbed back up, having trouble with breathing and having trouble staying cool, sweat dripping from his face suddenly. It was suffering.

He needed to suffer.

Maybe it would fix him.

His palm slammed onto the mirror as he shook again, vomiting more blood, fingers tracing down the mirror and creating a foggy, hot path where they dragged along it, like the unsettled water trailing behind a ship.

A ship.

Vera groaned, making a pained noise as he clutched onto his churning stomach.

He had to be strong. Be a man. He balled his clutching hand into a fist and punched his stomach until he couldn’t feel it. Crimson, deep and boiling blood ran down his chin and into the sink. His stomach whirled when he wasn’t punching it. Too much— but he knew his limit, and this wasn’t it. So he kept punching, vomiting, and digging his nails into the smooth surface of the mirror.

Soon, he found the strength for his blue flame, pressing it against his neck, gasping for air between vomiting and punching.

He could feel the veins in his neck slowly pull back together.

Time to take a shower.

***

A day after… all of that, a soft knock on the threshold of the door echoed out. "...Vera?" From the warbly tone, the knocker was surely Danann.

Vera dug his nails deep into his skin. He dragged himself out of bed once more— then answered the door with a piercing gaze.

“…what.”

Danann seemed shorter than normal, shrinking back under Vera's glare.

"...Sorry..." Danann hesitated before shaking his head as if reprimanding himself. "I just wanted to check in. I get that you don't wanna talk."

“I don’t. Leave.”

Danann deflated, but took notice to Vera's voice. "Did you lose your voice?" His voice became slightly raspy as well– he did tend to mimic people a lot subconsciously.

Vera glared at Danann. Duh. Dumbass.

"Mm." He tilted his head to the side, brow furrowing anxiously. "Drink water and stuff. Uzu loses his voice a lot...I remind him to drink water, too."

“Thanks. Bye.” Vera pushed the door to a close.

Gods.

"...I'm just wondering..." Danann's voice echoed from the door, "I know this is real asshole-y of me...but...do you tr--know that you can come to me any time? I just wanna know I'm trustworthy...y'know..."

Vera sighed. Would everyone hang outside and cause more attention to be dragged like a dead animal to him?

“Get in.” he groaned again, the door opening.

Danann hesitated before walking through the entryway. "I just...I don't want to be mad at you for anything that I don't understand first...so I wanted to ask you about it before I blew up at you or something."

Great. Now he had to explain himself. This was getting tiring.

“Okay. And?”

"...in the simplest terms," great, he had entered nerd mode, "what's going on? By simplest terms I just mean you don't have to tell me much." He rushed the end of his statement, shaking his head in an attempt to reassure Vera.

Vera gripped onto his face like he’d just seen something traumatic. “I ripped Jay’s arm off.”

…earlier…

Danann shrugged good naturedly, failing to shrug off his own worries for Jay. "I lose limbs all the time." His face became considerate again. "I mean...what's up?"

“…nothing.” he mustered. “I’m— nothing. I’m controlling myself. It’s okay.” That was the best way to put this. He was controlling himself. Isolating himself from everyone. Keeping them safe. That was what this was.

The ends of Danann's mouth pulled down in a frown. "...Okay. You can always come to me." He perked up, back straightening. "Oh! Now that Shikabane brought a spawn point, you can take out your anger on me, if you want!"

Vera’s eyes widened.

He could take his anger out on him if he wanted?

“—No. wh—why? Do you— you think I’m just— some ruthless monster, don’t you? That I don’t have any fucking heart?? That I want to hurt you??”

"No, I don't think that. I just know that I used to go to Turf matches and get some splats in if I had the money and was angry enough." Danann smiled sympathetically. "I get it."

“But— I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t want to hurt anyone. You don’t get it. I said— I told you— I’m not a monster. I don’t hurt for fun.”

"Neither do I."

Vera balled his fists. Maybe he should stop letting people into his room. “Yeah, but if you don’t wanna hurt and instead help— that’s definitely not what you’re fucking doing right now, fucktard.”

Danann pursed his lips. "Okay." He sighed. "I can leave then."

“Yeah. Get. Out.”

Danann nodded and slipped out the door, melting his way down into his swim form on the way out. He jumped to the ceiling, and then was gone.

Groaning and running his hands through his bangs over and over again, Vera made his way back to bed. At least Danann didn’t get all up in his business like Cory did.

Did everyone have to know everything?

That would just give people more reasons to hate him even more— nonetheless, he deserved it.

He hugged his knees, suddenly getting dizzy again. It was good enough that the lights were off. All he had to do was shift over to lay on his back.

Vera closed his eyes, slowly found his hand and placed it on his forehead, and took a deep breath out.

He was so hungry. He hadn’t had anything to eat since he had hidden in here.

He kept thinking about Captain, too. He thought about him so much more now— now that he was being brought up more than he wanted to remember. He kept thinking about all the times he lashed out and exploded, kept thinking about how now it was just— so much worse. So much more— it was different. He had crossed the line by miles and miles.

He still loved everyone, though. Still loved QD.

His heart was so full of love— he knew, no one else— but he was so full of anger. Fear.

He was scared of what could happen.

What could happen was him.

The worst thing that could happen.

Vera dug into his forehead.

He already thought it all out. He understood what happened.

Why wasn’t he outside? Why wasn’t he saying sorry?

It was different.

He was starving. He needed to eat. He needed to love. By now, he and QD would already be relaxing together, he in her lap, her hands in his hair and his hand on her cheek.

He was starving himself to protect everyone from the starving man.

Men didn’t cry.

Vera sucked the tears back in. He practiced another stone cold gaze up at the top of the bunk. Good. Good. Stay strong.

When the vertigo passed, he looked into the mirror and pointed out the things he didn’t like about the man in it.

He needed to be sadder. His eyes needed to be sunken in. He needed to be prettier.

Maybe he needed to be a woman.

He slammed his palm onto the mirror.

Hurt him. Change him. Tear him and fix him. Put him back together.

He gave the man in the mirror a merciful smile, whispering irrationally.

“I will put you back together.”

FNAF reference but okay buddy

…

He sighed. One day this mirror would break.

Now, he would starve.

***

He would try to starve. He was at his desk, laying his head onto it uncomfortably. A message came in. From Hira. Great.

Can I come over

no.

okay

Cool

I have food

Vera blinked.

the doors gonna open be quick

When Vera opened the door, Hira was there with a little bag at his side. He quickly shoved himself into the room.

“Hey. I thought you might be hungry, since I didn’t see you in the kitchen at all these past two days– or anywhere, really. You’ve stuck yourself in here, haven’t you? ‘Don’t wanna get out?”

Vera looked up at Hira, glad that he finally had someone who wouldn’t talk about what he did and ask all about how he was feeling. The answer to that question would always be the same. “...no…”

“I guess I understand. When Di practically let out my stupid secret… I never wanted to leave.” He quietly pulled something from the bag. “...your shark plushie really helped me.”

“...nice…” Vera mustered, remembering that his shark plushie existed and could make him feel better. He didn’t deserve it.

Hira slowly nodded. “Here, I wanna have lunch with you. I made something for both of us. Sandwiches.” the corners of his lips turned up upon saying one of his top ten favorite words. “I got some chips, too, and two juice boxes… and I got fruit, and I took some of those little heart chocolates– oh! And I got you beef jerky!”

It was so sweet. Hira was so sweet.

Unfortunately, Vera deserved none of it.

…but Hira did.

That wasn’t an excuse for Vera to eat– no, he genuinely wanted to show Hira that he appreciated the thought he put into a worthless shit sack. He had to eat to please him and be polite.

“C’mon. Where can we sit? I’m starving.”

…you aren’t.

Vera opted for the floor. They sat around the little table on the ground, sitting each on their own beanbag. Vera hated having things when he angered people. He hated having and needing and wanting whenever he wasn’t acting like a normal, functioning member of society.

Therefore, he hated being with Hira on beanbags in a room full of things he liked.

He ate his sandwich anyways.

The two were sitting in silence, Hira eating slower than usual to match Vera’s speed. Usually, Vera would eat quite quickly. But now he wanted to starve. Often, when he was out on an adventure and had limited food, he chewed tiny bits of his food– and he chewed slowly, all to make it seem like he was eating more and was, in fact, not starving.

He was starving in love, too. A day without QD already made him feel alienated even more than usual. He really depended on her.

…she depended on him, too. She was counting on him.

Not anymore.

Soon, the sandwich was gone, and Vera felt guilty. He wanted to vomit everything back out, tell Hira he appreciated it but didn’t deserve it, and lock himself away until he looked and acted how he wanted.

He was only half as pretty as a butterfly. Surely, after staying in the chrysalis, he would emerge beautiful.

“I’ve actually never tried beef jerky before, but I know you like it. Why’s that? Is it really that good?”

Vera was pulled back into reality from the state where it looked like his hands were melting into the beanbag in his vision. “...I like it.”

“Because of what?”
        “Meat. I like meat.”

Hira giggled. “Woah. Really? That’s super gay.”
        …Don’t smile. Don’t enjoy yourself.

“Sure.” Vera looked back down again, forgetting that he was eating lunch with Hira. His vision melted again.

He felt Hira’s hand on the top of his head, which craned down. “How’s the hair?”
        “Good. Easy to wash.” Quietly, he muttered his ongoing lie. “I like it.”

“Cool. I like my hair longer, but sometimes short is good.”

Vera slowly nodded, now completely out of it.

Hira never took his hand off. He ruffled Vera’s hair and smiled. “It’s still so soft…”

There was no response from Vera. He kept looking down, degrading himself for ever even wanting. For ever even being.

He wanted to be without being in any way at all, just like how he wanted to look.

“...take all the time you need, Vera.” Hira whispered, his tone suddenly bittersweet. “Did I help you in any way?”

Vera nodded, because his job was now to lie. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Hira sighed knowingly. Of course. Of course. Because everyone knew. They knew what happened, how he felt, what really was going on– they saw through it. Dirty. He was unclean and dirty. Angry and messy.

Somehow, people still stuck around with him.

…somehow, he never took the hint that he should just leave them alone.

To better them.

To benefit them.

All he did was hurt them when trying to protect them– he needed to see that they didn’t need him.

They were better off without him.

But his heart ached. He loved all of them so deeply– there was too much room in his heart– and he couldn’t leave them.

Some of them still cared.

Like Hira. Maybe Cory.

And he had to change for those who still cared.

…no.

He didn’t deserve to be fixed in any way.

But to make up for all he did…

Everyone else deserved to see him fixed.

To make up for all he did…

“...can I come back again tomorrow?”
        “Sure. Don’t bring any food.”

“Why not?”
        “I already had some.”

***

I hate the way his smile is slightly crooked.

I hate the way he blinks.

I hate how he stares at himself.

I hate how his fingerprints are littering my damn mirror.

I hate his body. It’s not normal.

There’s nothing normal for him.

I hate it. He’s not normal.

I hate the way his voice sounds.

I hate his anger issues.

I hate his issues as a whole.

I hate the way he thinks he can justify them with the fact that his stupid captain died.

I hate the way he still thinks about it.

I hate the way he is.

I hate everything about him.

He makes me want to stab the shit out of something.

Let me stab the shit out of him.

Vera’s fingertips dragged until the edge of the mirror, smudging it and the previous smudges on it. He sighed. His knees felt weak as he loomed over the sink and viciously gazed into the mirror.

Suck it up. Suck. It. Up.

Vera tensed his face again, proud of the tears that never trembled.

He was so hungry. Just suck it up.

His feet dragged him to his bed, where he laid in with the pile of worn clothes that weren’t exactly dirty– just worn. Worn and then discarded when he needed to take a shower.

They were technically dirty, because he felt dirty when he wore them.

It made no sense to move or wash them, though, because it gave him an excuse to take a shower.

He was getting terrible rashes on his hands and shins, if you couldn’t tell.

One day, he would wear the dirty clothes again.

Only because any other clothing wouldn’t hide what was underneath it.

Baggy layers and sweatpants were good for hiding the fact that half of you didn’t match up with the other half.

His face wasn’t a problem, so long as he didn’t remember his reflection was not a person and in reality himself.

…he wasn’t a problem.

Just a messy man.

He would fix that soon.

By himself.

He never let anyone into his room but Hira. At this point, he didn’t know why. Sometimes, Hira kept him from absolutely losing it before his stupid ‘transformation’ could ever begin. This was because his hands were soft, and he ran them through Vera’s hair like QD did. He wrapped his arms around him like QD did, and he smiled sweetly. Smiled with the glow that made him like the color orange.

He was feeding him the love he was dry of.

He still felt guilty, though. He needed to starve. He couldn’t let himself be anywhere near another person– let alone one who was soft and gave him even softer touches– because of what he did to QD.

It practically boiled down to her in the end.

Unless you count when he was only starving for food.

Vera couldn’t let him have what she gave. Just because he would go insane with too much or too little.

He might even hover over Hira and breathe on his neck, maniacally giggling and feeling his temperature rise. Hira might even bite his neck, kiss him hard, let himself melt into Vera’s arms.

Too much.

He loved QD more than anything. He was madly, deeply, truly in love with her.

He was just worried that he would crave too much love, get it in the wrong way, and then regret it.

Hira wouldn’t do that though.

…if anything, Vera clearly had to make the first move.

It would be okay. Just wait with Hira for a bit. Quietly slip away.

He knew how to fix himself.

By force.

He knew how to operate the machinery.

He just had to figure out the right moves to make.

Vera hoped he seemed as stupid as he made himself out to be.

Because then–

Then.

Ammi would never see it coming.

        Now was a good time.

…ammi.

Yeah?

I need Code 158.

…no, you don’t.

Why not?

I… I’m not letting that happen to you.

It’s not like it’s anything bad. Just give it to me.

You’re still not getting it.

Why not?? It’s not bad. I just want to change.

You can do it in any other way than using it! Just work it out yourself. It’s better for you.

But not for anyone else.

Who cares about everyone else?

You’re included, you selfish bitch.

It went quiet.

Vera assumed Ammi stopped talking to him.

…she was going to cut off access to the Locket, wasn’t she?

She would think he wouldn’t know how to get in.

All he needed to do was get the right information, sneak out at the right times…

Too fucking easy.

Vera opened his eyes, laying against Hira’s shoulder as they were watching a movie together. Just like he and QD would.

“Maybe we could invite QD to watch a movie with us.”

“...no.”

His voice was unfortunately better.

“Why not?”

“...I don’t want to bother her.”

At least he understands he’s not a good replacement.

***

Step 3: Gather the Pieces

A long, long time ago…

…QD slept in late.

He always woke up early.

By the time she dragged herself out of bed (after Captain Oleander had to yell her name), he was already done with eating and finished sparring with the others. Of course, he won most of the battles.

Often, Captain joked that even a little bit of his talent rubbed off on QD, she’d be fighting treshers in no time.

It wasn’t easy being better than everyone.

Vera walked down into the lower deck, a smug grin growing across his face as his eyes laid upon a frequent sight— Oleander still trying to teach QD how to parry.

“Your timing is all off!” He commented once more. “When you see me start swinging, you get ready.”

QD nodded over and over, but she could never successfully blow off his sword with hers.

“Let’s try again.”

“One more time!”

“Last time, really!”

“You were close! Again!”

“WHEN I SWING MY SW—“

Vera chuckled from the stairs.

QD slowly turned to him with a face that didn’t want to hear any of it right now.

“What? I’m just enjoying the show…”

“Ah, mornin’, Vera!”

“Good morning, Captain.” He grinned and walked over, examining the display closer. “Any luck?”

“No.” QD put it plainly as she punched Vera’s shoulder. “Stop spying on us!”

“I’m not spying. I’m just… protectively watching over you, and eyeing your progress…”

 QD straightened up, eyeing him with a somewhat playfully angry look. “Uh-huh. Totally. When have you ever cared about something you didn’t get to laugh your ass off at?!”

“When I found you— and realized I could do both.” He teased and shoved his hand into her hair, ruffling it back and forth.

“HEY!!! MY HAIR!!” QD screeched, batting his hand off and smoothening it out. “My perfectly good bed hair!”

Captain Oleander tapped the edge of his sword on the ground. “Let’s continue.” He looked over at Vera and nodded, dismissing him.

Vera only grinned wider. “Hey— how about I show QD how it’s done?”

“You mean show off?” QD raised an eyebrow, this time her turn to grin.

“Yeah.” Vera nodded, only basking in the comment.

QD rolled her eyes with her unfailing smile and tossed the sword to Vera, falling back.

Vera caught it, and once QD was a good enough distance… he and his Captain locked eyes—

And he immediately performed the perfect parry.

QD’s smile then faded. “…dude.”

Bursting out in laughter, Captain Oleander put down his sword and clapped his hand on Vera’s shoulder. “Very good! One day, you’ll be the Duke of Erisia!” His laughter rang out again.

Vera smiled not out of pride— mostly out of the joy of his Captain’s company, and his hand on his shoulder, reassuring and fatherly.

“How did you go so super fast, though?!” QD burst out, waving her hands around. “Verrraaa TEACH MEEE. You probably didn’t have any problems with learning, didn’t you?!” She jumped over to him, her energy bouncing around at his feet. “YOU GOTTA SHOW ME HOW TO DO IT.”

Vera chuckled, looking from QD to his Captain. When he received another nod, he was good to go. “Okay— you’re gonna parry even better than me when I’m done with you. But don’t think I’ll go any easier on you than I do with the others.”

“I GOT THIS.” QD banged her fist on her chest, grinning from ear to ear.

Captain Oleander was smiling, too. He chuckled, his final laugh, and gave the two a determined grin. “I’ll be on deck.”

“Bye!” QD waved to him excitedly, grabbing the sword Oleander handed to her and practically brimming with cheer.

Vera waved to his Captain, too. “Aye.”

Once Oleander was gone, QD turned to Vera slowly, with a cheeky grin. “Did you just say ‘Aye.’ unironically?”

Vera’s face went hot. “I wanted to try and see how it felt to say it…”

They practiced for hours.

They made it up to the deck.

QD performed probably the best display of her silver tongue ever witnessed to man.

Then the ship sank.

Vera opened his eyes, still bundled up in the sheets.

How could he think about fixing himself if he couldn’t stop thinking about Captain?

He would just have to shove it deeper and deeper, maybe dig a grave for all of his full bottles and this memory— which, in itself, required a whole jar— and then he would be okay.

He went back to the mirror.

It had been a few days.

He ate once or twice, and drank some water, just so he wouldn’t dry up before he could gather the resources for his plan. If he was hungry, he chewed on his wrists. He pretended he was eating.

And he stared at the mirror.

He stared at the mirror a lot.

His fist slammed back onto it— with so much more force, all that had been building up over the days. Anger welled up inside him every time he looked at his reflection in the dark. It needed to change. It needed to be unrecognizable.

I hate. I hate. I hate. I hate. I hate.

He repeated the words again and again. This totally helped him in every way, shape and form.

Captain would be so disappointed to see who the little boy he loved so much, and poured all his effort in time to— turn into.

Change.

For everyone but yourself.

Even if you’re unfixable.  

Hey, Vera

I have something I wanna show you

Come to my room when everyone else is sleeping

Vera’s attention was pulled to his band. Hira, of course. He kept buzzing around him.

ok

***

Hira whisked Vera into his room, giddy and excited. “Dude— you gotta see it. I asked QD if she could ask Ammi— somehow— if I could have another room somewhere around in here. I can’t believe it fucking worked!” He opened the door that led to his hallway, leading Vera inside of it. “See that corner? It was full of boxes, wasn’t it?”

Vera nodded, but it made his neck pop and hurt.

“Not anymore.” Hira stated with a grin. “Lemme show you.”

They walked into the room.

Everything in it was pitch black— there was complex looking machinery, bottles of chemicals, a wide vent, strings and pins littering the air. And creepiest of all— a red glow from an even redder light, basking and coating everything in an apocalyptic atmosphere.

“It’s my dark room! For developing photos! I’m so glad I actually got one— I was searching up all the necessary things online, and I told Di about it— and he figured that I must’ve really liked photography— which I do— but— yeah! It’s here! Do you like it?”

“…interesting.” Vera commented, and he would’ve nodded if it didn’t practically shatter his spine in two. Maybe in thousand.

He wondered why he was brought here.

“Mhm. I have a whole set of binders just waiting to be stuffed with photographs…” his voice trailed off. He stared into the near distance.

They were silent for a while.

“…so. Whaddya wanna do?” Hira asked, his excitement fading into his usual demeanor.

Vera looked up at him.

Hira looked down at him.

There was a strange tension in the air that Vera didn’t quite seem to get. Or understand.

Hira tore his gaze from Vera’s.

“…I dunno.” Vera responded to his earlier asked question.

Hira didn’t turn back to him. He seemed deep in thought.

Vera watched him watch the wall.

“…Vera…”

Here we go.

“…you’re my friend, right?” His tone became somewhat soft— Vera expected it to be awkward, for Hira to start getting flustered as he asked something like this. Instead… soft. Soft and affirming… soft and strong.

When Vera noticed his head was turned down— he picked it back up. He found Hira staring at him without a hint of worry on his face. He looked ready. For something. It was a blank stare, not blank. His eyes held something. They, out of every other feature on his face, were different. Relaxed. They looked somewhat sleepy.

…oops.

“You can tell where this is going, but— I haven’t joked. About any of that. When I kissed you— remember that joke?”

Everything in Vera’s body stood straight.

“I love you.” Hira stated, turning his entire body to Vera, grabbing his hands to hold. “I’m in love with you.”

Haha. Another funny gay joke from Hira.

…

WHAT THE FUCK.

Vera stared at Hira incredulously. His face probably looked like it asked for how and why, because Hira started to explain himself.

“When you first saved me— when I had my first day of trial, and you fought Cara and brought me back safely— I— I fell in love with you. You saved my life! How could I not? And— and now, we’re here. I… everything good— I can trace back to you.”

Familiar.

“You— saving me— you’re the reason I ended up being able to just… be myself. And be sorta happy. Or— at least on the road to being happy. I found my passion, I basically freed Aeronia— I’m researching all these different things and finding out what I like… because of you.” Hira smiled down at Vera. “I know… that… maybe right now isn’t the best time to say all of this— I won’t deny you’re in a little bit of a… situation… but… I think I’ve kept it a somewhat open secret for long enough. I love you.”

…but… Vera loved QD.

…

…he knew that.

They weren’t talking right now.

Him and QD weren’t talking right now.

She left him.

…he was basically single.

…this was the best time to ask.

Looking up and realizing this, Vera found Hira was much closer than he had been before. He was looking at him with the same face he had before— but now that blank stare was paired with a soft, enamored smile.

Vera’s heart raced. It jumped, leapt, and it worsened as he gazed into Hira’s eyes.

Did Hira want a kiss? Is that what this was?

He could give him a kiss. Hira deserved it— if he truly loved Vera, he would give him a kiss. He would deserve it.

…he was scared that this would happen.

“Do you feel the same way?”

Vera looked down at Hira’s hands holding his, his temperature rising, shoulders and chest and face now burning. Hira was now leaning in closer. Vera wanted a kiss, too. Hira barely touched him since the lunch they had.

And Vera was still starving. He was hungry for more.

Oh, Gods. Fuck it.

Vera put his arms around Hira’s neck, stood on his toes, and pressed his lips against Hira’s.

He’d never kissed anyone before.

He really, really liked it. It felt so soft— it was weird, too, it felt as if his mouth went entirely numb to the point where he couldn’t feel it anymore. Something about the way kisses were made out to be— soft, gentle, the epitome of pure love… It made him even more giddy to kiss someone. Especially for his first time. His heart raced faster and faster. He felt like he was on fire.

Once they pulled away, Hira looked at Vera with a smug— but not malicious— grin. It was like he knew they’d kiss.

“This isn’t bad, is it? We’re only two years apart. That’s enough. We’re the same age, practically.”

Vera nodded. Yes. Just anything to kiss him again.

Hira chuckled. He ran his hands through Vera’s hair, now pulling him into his chest. “And it’s not bad that we’ll be together after this? Do you think anyone will care?”

“No. They shouldn’t care.” Vera mumbled, eyeing Hira’s lips again. He needed them on his. “You’re right. We’re close enough in age.”

Humming in agreement, Hira nodded, leaning back onto the wall of the darkroom with Vera in his arms, so vulnerable and so guilty. So dirty.

Hira kissed Vera again, and again. He mussed up Vera’s hair, tangling it in love, ruffling the short and cut strands in between his fingers wildly. He kissed him on his cheek, and went back to his lips. He felt around the wall near him with one hand, still kissing Vera, finding the light switch for the red bulb and turning it off.

It was just them in the dark.

***

Vera woke up in Hira’s arms. Hira was sitting against the wall, holding Vera, who was in his lap, head against his chest. Vera felt worn out— completely unable to remember what he and Hira had done before he promptly clocked out and had the worst dream in his life.

Oh. Gods. Did they fuck?

…no. They didn’t.

Vera sighed, relieved. It came back to him slowly but surely. All Hira did was kiss him until they grew tired, whispering how much he loved him, how beautiful he was and how he must’ve been the most blessed being in all of the Sea.

…damn.

Vera never thought Hira would kiss that hard.

Or well.

Did he have practice?

Vera always assumed… Hira… would be a bottom.

…and with everything else Hira had done…

He was definitely wrong.

Vera leaned back onto Hira’s chest, closing his eyes that he hadn’t realized were open.

Then he jolted back up.

He was not in love with Hira. He just wanted to kiss him. He just wanted to make him happy.

…now he had—

Hira shifted, eyes opening and gazing upon Vera. “…morning, sunshine.”

Vera found the words hard to find. “—I’m not in love with you.”

Hira blinked. “Hm?”

“I’m sorry.” Vera quickly stood up, off of Hira’s lap. “I’m sorry. I’m not in love with you. I don’t feel the same.”

“—wh—what?” Hira was more confused than hurt.

Vera looked around the room. Anywhere but Hira’s eyes. “I— no. Not in love with you.” He nervously stammered, speaking air, then finding the words again as he picked at his nails without looking. “I— I just— I just wanted— a kiss. I wanted a kiss. That’s all. I just wanted to kiss you.”

“…isn’t that love?”

“No!” Vera spewed. “It’s— I like QD. Don’t— tell her I said that— but— I— she used to—“ he put his hands in his hair, shutting his eyes and shaking his head as if it would deter all sound. “—I just like touch. That’s all. QD and I hug. But we fought— and— I hurt her— so I— I wanted to starve myself. From— love— and— I gave in when I could kiss you. I— you’re such a good kisser.” He added with a burning hot face, hoping that last comment would make this seem like something he could just blow off. “I’m sorry. You’re a good kisser, though.”

Hira blinked, mouth open to retort silently. He looked around as if the room would give him answers. His face was incredulous— he was offended.

“Wh— what do you mean??”

“I don’t love you. Forget this ever happened.”

“No— no, Vera— no. You led— you made me think you loved me back!”

“I don’t. Story over. Forget I did that.”

Hira deserved a kiss.

He did not deserve this.

Vera eyed him nervously. What would this say about the way he was planning to change himself?

“Dude! What the fuck??”

“J—just shut up. I’m going through a lot, okay?? I—“

“—hold on. Fuck off, first of all. Just because you’re ‘going through a lot’,” Hira mocked him. “doesn’t mean you can do that! That’s no fucking excuse!”

Vera was getting angrier and angrier. “It— I— I can’t even think properly— you expect me t—“

“—I expect you to be decent! An if not okay person! Someone who doesn’t kiss me and tell me th—“

“—aarghhhhhhhhshutupppppp—“ Vera now pushed his hands over his ears. “—I know— I know— I know, Gods, I know— b-but— you— deserved a kiss—“

“—what on God’s green earth does that fucking mean—“

“—I just can’t— I’m trying so hard to be—“

“—you’re not even fucking trying if you—“

“—no, no, no, no, Gods— why— I hate—“

“—just do shit like that and keep fucking—“

“—please— I’m sorry— just— leave me alone—“

“—TALKING OVER ME!!” Hira burst out, filled with as much rage as Vera seemed to be.

“I JUST WANTED TO MAKE UP FOR MYSELF!” responded Vera, hiding in his hands.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

And he didn’t.

“V—no. That’s such a shitty—“

“—OKAY, FINE. I’M FUCKING WRONG. GO FUCK YOURSELF, BECAUSE YOU SURE AS HELL CAN’T FUCK ME. I HATE YOU. EVERY BIT ABOUT YOU—“

“—YOU’RE NOT EVEN MAKING ANY—“

Vera picked up a bottle of random chemicals, waiting on Hira’s dark room tables, and threw it at him in the dark.

“—my fucKING CHEMICALS.”

Vera stormed off.

Why did he kiss him?

He was uncontrollable.

Someone needed to tie him down somewhere.

He needed to fix himself.

***

“Give it to me.”

“We couldn’t have done this distantly?”

“What do you mean?”

“I speak in your brain, you speak in it too—“

“No.” Vera slammed his fist onto Ammi’s desk, shaking and desperate. “Give it to me.”

Ammi lurked back. “Why didn’t you j—“

“I’m not asking for excuses.” His voice shook, and he leaned closer to her, completely out of it and staggering. “It’s gonna be so much easier for all of us. You’re gonna love it.” He grinned, nearly breaking down.

“No— I’m not gonna. You have to just change the way you are.”

Vera groaned— threatening rather than frustrated. “I CAN’T.”

“I don’t care. Leave.” Ammi’s face grew hard as she pointed to the door.

“YOU HAVE TO GIVE IT TO ME! OTHERWISE, I’M JUST GONNA KEEP DESTROYING MYSELF—“

“I DO NOT GIVE A SINGLE SHIT. LEAVE MY SIGHT IMMEDIATELY.”

Vera trembled. But he left.

He tucked himself away into his room.

He was getting it no matter what.

Even if he had to go and find it himself— he was getting Code 158.

He planned to threaten Ammi into it.

That wouldn’t be possible. It was already futile.

He had to leave and take it himself.

Vera groaned, holding onto his head and immediately dropping to his knees.

He said it would be easy.

It wasn’t.

He was going to nearly die trying.

He needed to make up for what he’d done.

He slammed his fist on the floor. Once, twice… three times.

He loved them. He needed a purpose. He needed to protect them. He needed to be strong. He had to be a man. He was perfectly traumatized. He found it started a long time ago. He hated himself. He couldn’t control himself. He kept getting angry. He was contradicting himself constantly. He didn’t know what he was doing, how to think, or what was going on.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He needed to change. He needed to kill the man in the mirror.

So he went to go find him.

He staggered up, burst the door to the bathroom open, and found the man in the mirror.

He put his hands on the mirror, staring him down. He was gonna kill him. He knew he had to.

He balled his hand into a fist. He slammed the mirror. He slammed it again. He then punched it. Again and again, he punched Vera’s stupid face.

I hate how he smiles. I hate how he frowns. I hate how he sweats, looking up in exhaustion and breathing heavy. I hate how he loves. I hate how he looks. I hate how evil he is. I hate his impurity. I hate how he just hurts and hurts and hurts, never giving a single shit for who he’s hurting.

He’s hurting me. I’m gonna kill him before he can hurt me again.

With a sudden rising animosity, he screamed as he shoved his fist into the mirror.

Vera didn’t break. He tried it again.

Again. Again.

Finally, banging both his hands on the mirror, it broke.

It shattered into thousands of little pieces, sparkling like jewels as the small, powdery bits crumbled off of the frame and into the sink.

He took a shaky breath in. He took air in over the sobs and trembling of his body, over the sink. He looked at his knuckles. Cut and bleeding. He was bleeding. He hurt himself.

No— Vera hurt him. It was all Vera’s fault.

In the end, though, it mattered so little.

What mattered now… it was that…

…Vera was broken.

***

His room was messy. Showers didn’t work to wash away his grime.

He lost himself somewhere in the bathroom. He was sure that bringing the water to his waist and glaring at the reflection it brought would make him found again.

He didn’t want to be found.

He chewed on his wrist, hungry and crazed, until he bit into it with his fangs and bled. He licked the blood off of his wrist. Irony. Like metal.

He found himself.

Vera was broken.

And he was still hurting himself even if he was broken.

Vera took another deep breath in, as if breathing back to life. He took his hair in his hands, pulling on it, grinding his teeth together.

Men didn’t cry.

They went on and fixed themselves.

He had to fix himself.

He couldn’t destroy himself anymore.

Today, once everyone was asleep, he would go to the library.

The one he never went to.

He would pull himself together, then go to the library.

They must’ve had something about the Heart Locket, and about Code 158. Then he could change himself.

Back to the bathroom.

His reflection wasn’t there, but his sink was. He turned it on as it washed over the shards of the reflection. Vera cupped the water in his hands, washing his face off and patting it down to ground himself.

I am traumatized.

I ripped Jay’s arm off.

I kissed Hira and didn’t want to.

I’m here now.

I shattered my mirror.

I’m here now.

I am a man. I will not cry. I am a sailor. I will not drown.

I will find my purpose in changing who I am.

I will put myself back together.

I will fix myself.

For everyone.

Go. Go, and fix yourself.

It was the only thing you could do.

You had to.

***

It was late. Vera had redone the bandages on his neck and changed into his usual attire. He hated to see his body as he put on his clothes, but it was there.

He was gonna change that.

He was ready.

Sneaking into the library was easy. Stealth was something he considered himself to be good at… and nonetheless, no one was awake at this time.

Save for Danann and Hira, who frequently snacked late at night.

He didn’t think they’d be up now. Good thing he thought right.

The library was huge. White, thin metal shelves lined and lined with little, teal, physical holograms that looked like DVDs in their cases. That was all the library held— save for a multitude of three-inch binders and a box full of USBs.

Vera thought it was funny that anything of Ammi and Hira’s would be placed together. In a library, too.

There must’ve been a glossary of the library. If ‘glossary’ was the right word. Shelves were labeled, but they were practically indecipherable. Vera wondered if Rhine just liked to name things with random numbers, letters and symbols for the hell of it. He looked around, then found a desk in the middle of the mazey library, illuminated by the soft glow of the stars through a massive dome skylight above it.

Making his way to the desk, Vera examined it. It had a big book, littered with laminated pages and tabs, sorting those pages in alphabetical order.

He figured it must’ve been easier to just… make a hologram copy. But it didn’t matter. This would get him the information he needed, even if he had to search for hours.

He opened the book, leaning over the desk as he flipped through each page with searching eyes.

‘C’. For ‘Code’.

If those three who practically governed the Sea were so content on keeping their secrets, he wouldn’t find anything labeled under ‘Code’. They would all be their actual names.

And if he knew anything about— Rhine and Ammi in specifics— it was that they kept things like this as a secret. Why? Because it was funny.

To them.

No worries. Vera was already well acquainted with Code 158. Ammi made the mistake of telling him all about the Heart Locket…

…including the key to the purity of the beings in the Sea.

Code 158– Share Your Wealth. 

A purity device created to insert and not purify.

Hence ‘Share’.

Ammi was the second purest being in the Sea. It would make sense that she would ‘share her wealth’, her wealth being her purity, and give people the qualities that represented purity.

The qualities she had tons of.

The same went for… QD.

As the third purest being in the Sea, she also had ‘pure’ qualities.

Although her and QD were polar opposites in their qualities, they were still around the same purity.

Ammi with a purity of 98 and QD with 95.

Vera often wondered if that difference of 3 separated love from hate.

However— if he could get anyone’s qualities… he would either bury his own or replace them.

It came at a price.

He would no longer be separate from the Sea.

That wasn’t a worry, though.

He’d just be like Juno, Cory and Danann.

It was okay to be like them.

Vera pondered over what Ammi told him that time. Yes, he had some purities (in the context of the Sea’s meaning of purity), but he was still separate from the Sea.

…Ammi kept telling him that those lines blurred, but at the end of the day… he was separate.

It wasn’t a trophy, though. It didn’t take or give him anything.

He’d become part of the Sea if he had to.

Now— to look for ‘Share Your Wealth’ in the book.

He flipped through pages, reaching ‘S’.

S… Sharine… what the fuck was Sharine… there. Share. Behind it.

Exactly as he’d hoped.

Share Your Wealth was located in a deep memory. One practically lost among the stars of the Sea. How did one exactly get to memories without the help of a god?

QD and Ammi were unavailable.

Rhine went to memories all the time.

She would not be very happy to see him, though.

‘Must be something.

‘M’ for ‘memories’?

…here…

Vera skimmed through ‘memories’. He found some information he knew already.

Memories… most of them part of purity… some of them the remnant of old worlds that cycled into the Rip, just waiting to be reassembled and born anew… memories, which were sometimes unstable and needed to be fixed… sometimes needed to be built from the ground up…

Among other interesting bits of information that Vera distracted himself from his life in, he found what he had needed.

Memories were accessible through Code 11.

Vera didn’t know what the fuck Code 11 was.

He was so glad those two idiots loved to keep secrets.

Fuck.

Vera sighed. He had to look. He had to change.

He tried before. Now, it would work. He had to stick through with it.

The page he was holding in between his two fingers crumpled as he pushed them together, a tiny outlet for massive anger.

Code 11… Code 11…

Ammi or QD were definitely the ones who gave these things their code numbers.

It was Ammi who said something along the lines of…

‘Names have to be meaningful’.

That was true for Code 158– a literal purity sharing device.

Code 11…

Vera wondered what 11 was usually a symbol for.

11:11? Make a wish?

Maybe make a wish to go somewhere…

1111… kinda seemed like chair legs. Or table legs. That was a crazy stretch.

…damn it… 11…

Memories… memories were stars… how do you enter a star?

Maybe something about ‘star’?

He searched through ‘S’, thinking hard.

Well… he decided to use what he already knew, still glancing through the section.

A similar example was their traveling through worlds. They used portals to push themselves to the edge of galaxies, using Glass as a sort of gate key to the world.

Glass was made in the Heart Locket, using Resonance and Heartstrings, Resonance being a building component and Heartstrings being specific to each world. Once made, it was able to be entered into the portal’s version of a car’s keyhole.

…Glass was for worlds.

Maybe something like a portal… but instead, for traveling to stars.

Stars would need to be mapped out. He would know.

And they were mapped out. There must be a chart— or a table.

…table.

Was that 1111 table guess that far from the right answer?

Table. ‘T’. The table was also most likely to be defined by an adjective, so he would probably have to search through several other sections anyways.

Not a bad start.

Vera spent a long time looking through each page, carefully double checking each entry the library had listed here— all to find ‘table’.

It probably wasn’t even right.

Worth a shot.

He even glanced through ‘C’ again for ‘chart’— but it was all futile once he found an entry in ‘G’—

‘Glass Table’.

He’s never heard of that before.

His heart quickened again, and he suddenly became cold. This could be it. Maybe Ammi forgot to seal the Locket— and he could just enter it without needing to unseal it. Through the Glass Table.

The Glass Table…

…Code 11.

Fuck yeah.

The Glass Table— located in shelf 25GN2.

Vera opened his band to write this down—

—then realized he would have to leave his band behind for this journey.

He didn’t want the others knowing where he was… or bothering him. He’d remove it some time before or after leaving. Maybe toss it out into the Sea, so he would be lost forever. Just how he liked it.

All he could do was either memorize the location or take the book with him.

Fuck that!

Vera carried the book, open in his hands, through the shelves.

23KL4… 21JQ1… 25RD6… there. 25GN2.

He searched through the little DVD looking holograms, pulling each out to see their title, narrowing it down closer until he found the one for Code 11.

He opened it.

Code 11— Glass Table.

The Glass Table was used to navigate through the memories without the help of one who could manipulate the Sea. The stars were displayed on the table, and one could pick and choose which to go to. Sometimes, each star needed a driver. Sometimes, they were sealed.

A driver could enter sealed memories, if paired with something called a navigator, which pinpointed the location of the star and helped the user get to the memory.

A driver could be made using Code 214.

…

HOW MANY GODDAMN CODES WERE THERE?!??

Vera groaned, taking this hologram with him. He thought of ‘214’. Maybe it had something to do with creation— or driver— or key—…

Again, all he could do was search through the book.

…he probably spent hours, but he’d found it. After hours of searching…

Code 214– Our Galactic Nostalgia.

Code 214 was commonly used in a few processes in the Heart Locket. Along with Resonance, it combined to perform several reactions that gave things their shape. With several other codes that Vera could only slightly remember skimming through and seeing, it became the building blocks to… essentially everything.

Since Our Galactic Nostalgia gave things their physical, it could morph into absolutely anything. For the most part, inanimate.

It could morph into a driver.

Vera examined the information from the hologram closely. He looked for anything that could be related to ‘driver’… and he found it within a small subsection that was in the tiniest print known to man.

Driver. Not in the library separately. Only accessible through this hologram. Typical.

Drivers could be any form— and they had their specifics, because of fucking course. Luckily, the most valuable memories had their driver blueprints easily locatable. Vera took a good look at the Heart Locket’s driver, nodding slowly as he put it on top of the other hologram, Glass Table.

Vera sighed. That was good. He had no clue where Our Galactic Nostalgia could even be.

He needed a map.

Going back to the book, he found where the star chart was located, then took the hologram.

It was just like a map. Unadvanced unlike everything else was. This hologram couldn’t even zoom in or out. Just an image. So, so typical.

He had to find where these two codes were located.

…214… 11…

He found 214 under the Pear Blossom cluster, and 11… was atop Code 777.

…that was easy.

777, angel number or some shit. Heaven. Look in ‘H’— hold the fuck up.

While looking in ‘S’ (because somehow lots of things were in ‘S’), Vera found ‘Stairway to Heaven’.

He quickly flipped back to it, then found the location on the shelves and took the hologram.

He opened it.

Code 777– (The) Stairway to Heaven.

It led up to the best view of the entire Sea.

Perfect for viewing stars, hm? thought Vera, making his own connections.

It was sometimes incomplete. Building blocks needed to be put in if this was the case.

Vera had legs. He could probably just jump over a few missing steps. That was done.

Good. The plan so far…

Go to Code 214. Make the driver for the Heart Locket. Climb Code 777, reach Code 11— get some navigator, whatever the hell that was, he’d figure it out— and Enter the Heart Locket.

…he needed to bring Code 158 with him, though.

Right— Code 158 was in a deep memory.

Deep memories were only given to you… in the Deep Down.

Shit. I forgot.

The Deep Down was incredibly dangerous. It was the silver lining between everything else and the Memory Pit.

If you teetered into the Memory Pit, who knows where you might end up?

It was possible to escape, yes… but it would be difficult. All he could do was be careful.

After traversing through the challenge the Deep Down would give him, he would be presented with the deep memory he needed.

It would lead him to Code 158.

He would get it, then he would go to Code 777 and the Glass Table.

Okay. Now where the fuck was Code 777? The location wasn’t stated on the hologram.

…Atlas. Among the first few entries in this stupid fucking book.

Vera flipped back to it, now totally lost in confused thought.

Okay. Atlas.

Oh— nevermind. The first entry.

Code 130– A Wayfarer’s Atlas.

It was used to help navigate through the Sea. Just link a guiding star to it, then you’d be good to go, able to find anything in the Sea with it.

Unfortunately, it was lost.

In the Deep Down.

…okay. He was going there anyway.

Hey— and Code 130 was tagged as a ‘navigator’. It could be used to operate Code 11.

Multiple birds died with a single stone. Good.

Vera wondered if there was anything else tagged as a navigator, so he wouldn’t have to face two challenges in the Deep Down.

…he wasn’t about to go look.

Okay. Finally— the plan.

Get Code 214. Build the driver. Access the Deep Down. Get both Code 158 and Code 130. Use Code 130 to navigate your way to Code 777, which holds Code 11 at the top. Code 11 will use the driver from Code 214 and Code 130, the navigator, and transport him to the Heart Locket. In the Heart Locket, Vera would be able to use Code 158…

…and fix himself.

It was tough. He could die.

No matter how much he wanted to— he couldn’t die. To make up for himself. Make up for his mistakes.

He was going to fix things. Put himself back together. Make things right. Find his purpose.

Vera took the holograms for each code, took the one for the Heart Locket, and put the book back.

No one would notice if a few measly entries— besides ‘Code 158’ and ‘Heart Locket’— went missing.

They wouldn’t be able to find him.

They wouldn’t be able to stop him.

Vera took a deep breath in, allowing the distraction of the search for knowledge to fade…

…and to let his life sink into his reality once more.

Don’t cry. Be a man.

Fix everything.

***

Step 4: Take the Small Bag Labeled ‘V’

It was a little insane.

Everything.

All of it.

Vera wiped away at his eyes, hiding the holograms in his blankets.

Now to prepare.

He was going to be… out at sea. He was gonna be in the Sea.

Until he got to the Locket.

Estimation told Vera it would take a long time. And time in the Sea was iffy.

He needed to pack like he was going camping.

A list ran through his head.

Since the Sea had no food just floating around in it— as far as he knew—, he had to pack his own. Beef jerky was definitely on the list.

Lightweight, full of nutrients. That’s what he needed.

Nuts were always good. But that shit was gay just thinking about it.

…Vera wasn’t sure if he was a guy anymore, but also wasn’t sure if he was a girl. Maybe it wasn’t gay.

Maybe he’d pack some nuts.

Soup was heavy, but it could substitute for water.

He needed something like fruit that wouldn’t go bad— he had to plan like he was actually going out to sea. Scurvy would be bad. Maybe… water with vitamin packets?

Wow. This was turning out to be quite the feast already.

Vera sighed. The image of him running away with some shitty food and a shitty motive— it would seem like he was just looking for attention.

‘waahhhh I’m running awayyyy I’m so sad and everyone hates me I don’t ever wanna see anyone ever againnnnn waaahhh come find me I’m leavinggggg’

…

It was fine if he was seen that way. So long as he changed by the end of the day, that whole ‘they’ll think I’m attention seeking’ fiasco will be over. They’d appreciate that he’d changed for them. No matter how many times they criticized him, he would change for them. He loved them.

Okay. Food. Vitamin water and beef jerky was all he had so far. Oatmeal was good, but it needed milk— and he wasn’t going to carry around too much liquid, since it would be heavy. Especially since the milk, he imagined, would only be for the oatmeal, and if it didn’t have another purpose— it was useless.

Vera felt like milk.

Soup was good. It was basically water with food in it, which was gross to describe it as. He would put it in a water bottle or something— and he would pretend it was just water. After, he could whatever the hell was in it if he wanted to. That was a good plan.

Bread was also good, but after a while it would go stale and just be a pain to eat. It didn’t matter if it was a pain, though— as long as it gave him what he needed. Crackers might suffice, but they could crumble into bits and also be hard to eat. Plus, Vera wasn’t sure how many crackers would be equivalent to a loaf of bread.

Cheese would go bad pretty quickly depending on what kind of cheese he brought. He had ice powers, though… he could freeze it. That would waste valuable energy, though. He might just have to go attunementless on this.

The Sea itself was cold, actually. It was freezing. Because it was space.

He had a feeling cheese in the chilling cold, vast expanse of space wouldn’t be something he could pack.

Fuck. I need a bag. I need bandages— I need all of this stuff— what if I get covered in blood? I’m gonna need to wash it off. I can’t sacrifice any water to do that. Maybe a notepad to write things down on? A suicide note, if I need it? Maybe a letter of explanation, if someone years from now finds my lifeless, rotting body. Most importantly— I can’t even go in the Sea alone. I need QD or Ammi. Otherwise, I’ll straight up die the moment I step outta here.

I need that talisman.

I have to sneak into QD’s room…

…fuck…

Vera ran his hands through his bangs again. Another thing— he had to take a shower.

It was fine if he needed to carry a stupid fucking bag with him. A duffle bag would be fine. He needed it, anyways— it was only common sense. The only thing he had to be weary of with it was… well, a few things— quality of the bag and weight. The bag couldn’t rip— it couldn’t be too heavy. If Vera exhausted himself carrying a bag with all his necessities, he would have to use those necessities to regain energy to exhaust himself to carry the bag.

Ugghhh. Focus on food.

Jerky, soup—sure, vitamin water— whatever, crackers…? Bandages… notepad.

The list sucked. It looked like he’d thrown it together in two minutes.

He had.

It should work, though… he wouldn’t be gone for more than… basically 3 weeks. Maybe more. The Sea and its time…

Okay. He could back some cheese and bread if there was time. The fridge was probably full of some of that… oh— rice. Something rice adjacent.

Okay. He could bring just water… with vitamin packets… so he could cook the rice in plain water. Which he could heat. Vera imagined a vitamin water rice. Nope.

…then again, lots of rice would be heavy. It wasn’t easy to store with a large sack…

He sighed. Were stupid vitamin waters gonna even give him all the vitamins he really needed?

No. It was simple— or at least he thought it was. But it was good enough. It would only be three weeks, and he was starving himself already… good practice, he made the excuse, but it had been before because he didn’t think he was worthy enough to eat, and also that something deep inside of him said that women needed to be thin to be beautiful.

That was a good enough list for him. Jerky, water, soup, cheese, bread… crackers… nuts… whatever. It was fine. A notepad, pencil or pen, a little knife. And… just to make his mood a little better…

Vera went to his closet, opened it, found the little silver box… took it out… looked inside… his pack of cigarettes were still there. He checked them— they were okay. He only smoked when he was stressed, or didn’t want to feel. This felt like just the time to bring them out. Plus— a lighter would make up for the fire he didn’t want to expend his energy making…

…if he had one. Fuck…

It’s fine. It won’t be too taxing to make a little spark on the edge of paper and plants.

He ran a hand through his bangs once more, the air in his lungs suddenly nowhere to be found. His stomach churned, feeling gross and subject to tensing up and making him vomit. There was nothing in it, though.

Vera sighed, tossing the cigarettes onto his bed and sucking it up.

Time to take a shower.

The mirror was still completely shattered, a slurry of glimmering bits and traces of blood where Vera had gotten cut. He’d only then realized that he never bandaged his knuckles— somehow, the pain completely left his mind. The cuts were slowly healing.

He turned on the water and let it warm up. Maybe a bath would be better. He could just lay inside, think about Oleander— Captain— just once. Once was all he needed. Then he would never think about him again.

The water was warm, the bathtub was full. Vera laid in it, looking up at the ceiling in the dark. He slowly closed his eyes, putting a hand on his head and running it up to his hair. His face was warm and wet from his hand, but as the drops ran down his face and the warmth subsided— it ceased to be those two simple things.

Captain wouldn’t be proud of who he was now.

Protecting QD was all he could’ve expected from him, and he ruined that.

If he knew that everyone but them would die, what would he say to Vera?

‘You two— take good care of each other when you make it out there.’

Vera bit his lip, a pained expression growing in the dark. He sat up— then splashed water on his face.

He let the water run down it. It was like it was raining.

***

Vera redid the bandages on his neck again.

He wrapped his hands and forearms, moving his wrists and fingers to feel the looser and tighter wrapped bits, sighing and nodding and feeling everything.

For the first time in a while, he looked at the scars on his shins.

They had nothing to do with anything. He wrapped them up to hide them.

He found a good duffel bag somewhere in his closet, then packed it with bandages and a small medical kit. Matches, a little notepad, a pencil and pen— it wouldn’t make a difference to weight with or without. Self care wasn’t important now, but he packed a small bottle of lotion, dry shampoo, a comb, facial wipes and disinfecting wipes.

A little drink of water and a nibble on h the soft part of his palm, bandaged, washed away his hunger.

There was much more room in the duffel bag. Now he had to see if there was any food in the stupid fucking fridge.

Vera slowly opened the door, then quietly walked to the kitchen.

It was good that no one was around. It was late enough— not even Hira or Dan would be awake, snacking away.

He rummaged through the fridge and the pantry. He found some cheese that was good enough, bread that was moderately fresh, Rhine’s stupid vitamin powder, crackers full of grains, jerky and trail mix. No soup, because who was gonna make soup?

Vera was.

Grabbing some quick ingredients like carrots, potatoes and beans, Vera made a fast soup he knew would taste like absolute shit. He tossed in salt, pepper… paprika… he put in some hot sauce for the hell of it, that Vegeta thing Ammi put on everything she ate…

The soup, which probably was going to make Vera regret everything, was tucked away into two thermoses. He cleaned out the pot, knife, spoon… and let them dry as he packed the rest of the food in their own containers. He grabbed a few plastic bottles of water, surprised that they were there, and put it with the rest of his finds.

He softly smiled, pleased with his luck.

The dishes were somewhat dry, so he tucked them back into where they were. Vera had a little snack of a single piece of toast with a little bit of butter, just to make sure he wasn’t going to starve to death yet. He thought of going all out, eating everything he could, but decided against it. He was now conditioned to eating very little. For ease on this mission, he wouldn’t break the conditioning.

In a last minute scan, Vera found fruit bars and jelly sticks. He gave a good look at them, imagining himself out in the Sea, eating some stale bread, washing it down with something that tasted like a plasticy, watered down apple juice, and eating a small bit of a fruit bar he had decided to save for later.

He ran a hand through his bangs.

The food was shortly transported to his room, fitting inside of the duffel bag nicely. He had a little more room left. With it, he packed a spare change of clothes— though, only the necessities. Like socks… uhm… undergarments… he was fine with having a tattered shirt or roughed out pants— just not… 

He sighed, taking the holograms from his pillows and the pack of cigarettes, fitting them together nicely. Finally, he went to his room to look at the mirr…ror…

Vera looked at an empty frame.

He forgot already.

Going back to his bedroom, he thought of what else he could fit. A comb… more food, even though he had a week’s worth of crackers alone in his bag… he packed another pair of clothes, then a change of shoes.

Good.

Now to steal the talisman.

***

Vera slowly crept into QD’s room. She never locked it.

There she was, sleeping peacefully. Her skylight, above her, angled the light of the stars, making her in her white, frilly, silky pajamas glow softly. She looked like she was being adorned by the entire universe, her image offered to all those two searched and found the epitome of true beauty, love, and all things right in the world.

Don’t cry.

He made her cry, he made her scared—

She had every right to bite him until he coughed out his sick, putrid blood.

Vera had stopped, watching her sleep in silence. He thought he didn’t deserve to look upon this image of purity. He rubbed his eyes, wishing QD had bitten him so hard he’d died.

He couldn’t believe he was stealing something from her now.

Hate was all he had left for himself. Once he cleaned himself, however— once he gave himself even a fraction of what QD had— he would be cleaner than the skies her eyes painted in his mind’s eye.

It was okay if he took just one thing.

His steps, now lighter with QD on his mind, padded to QD’s desk drawer. He rummaged through it with great delicacy, then took the sparkling talisman.

I hate the way he thinks the end will justify the means.

Vera turned to QD’s door, feet now unmoving from where they’d been planted, next to her desk.

Don’t cry.

…I love you…

He tilted his head to the side, softly smiling, so bittersweet, at QD.

Not having seen her in two weeks and the better part of one… he missed her so, so, deeply.

He was still starving for love.

Gods. I wonder what made her think I was so special.

His heart began to burn. He’d nearly forgotten the sound of her voice, the way she felt and her smile…

…nearly forgot the colors she’d made him love.

After the ship sank.

Promises.

Even when he made them with QD, he broke them.

He couldn’t make a promise with himself, either. He thought of the ship. He thought of Captain.

His stomach hurt. Time to go.

***

It all fit into the bag. Vera took one of his favorite flannel shirts, putting it over what he was wearing, then paired it with his nicest jacket. He pulled the sleeve over his wrist, pressing his lips against it, holding in his breath and repeating the same words.

Don’t cry.

Vera took a piece of nice paper, a good pen, and wrote out a suicide note. A note explaining his death. Whichever it deemed fit by the end— end— it would explain it.

Dear reader,

I am dead. If you read this, it means I am dead. If I am not dead, this will be burnt, and I will forget I ever wrote this. I don’t know why I feel the need to say so. I need to explain myself.

I tried to change and be a better person for everyone else, but I kept ruining it. Every time I acted somewhat happy or lenient, I was trying my best. My best wasn’t enough, and I hurt everyone and myself.

He thought for a moment.

I don’t know where this letter will find you and me. I have a feeling that wherever it does, whenever it does, I will have ruined my life. It would be gone. I am seventeen years old, but I feel so much older. I was seventeen years old, actually— if you’re reading this over my dead body. I don’t know why I think someone might read this while I am alive. If you are, I’m sorry. Pretend you never saw this. Burn it, because then I won’t have to. I will leave it out of my mind as well.

I think I am traumatized. I didn’t want to admit it, because then I would be weak, and I wouldn’t be able to protect the one person I loved and promised my captain I would protect. Even though I said I would protect her, I hurt her. I am a bad person. I tried to be a man for her, I tried to not cry, and I tried to hold it in. I did this all for her and for everyone. Tell her I am so sorry. I tried to change so she would love me just as much as I love her.

I am sorry to everyone.

Vera took a deep breath in, continuing, as his stomach turned cold, but his face and shoulders burned.

As I am writing this, my body is warm, and I am alive. I hate it, but I am alive. When you find me, I will be cold and satisfied. It won’t be a tragedy— I tried to save everyone from myself, and no matter where this ends up, I did it, didn’t I? I just tried to change completely to give back everyone the love they gave me. It doesn’t matter now that I am dead.

Really, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I mean it. I love everyone more than you realize. I’m not a monster. I turned into one, I think, but now I’m not so sure. I think I’m bad. Please forgive me. Forgive me for causing so much pain, and even putting this onto your conscience. I hope you don’t care about me to make you think about this note any more than you are now, reading it. I’m sorry. I can’t say any more because I don’t know how. I’m not smart.

I hope I have left nothing unsaid.

Take this as pity or not, this is my note. If I died because something killed me, I tried. If I died because I killed myself, just know it was in my best interests— and I was tired, and probably starving, anyways. It was a good idea. I didn’t suffer. I lived just the way I wanted. Live well, love well, and forget me.

P.S. if you are starving and need something to eat, I honestly don’t mind if you eat me. I know how desperate things can sometimes get. If you are not, pretend you didn’t see this. I don’t know why I wrote it.

Vera

The note was folded and put into his bag, safely tucked away but visible enough.

Vera ran a hand through his bangs, eyes wide and glaring into the space around him.

Was this how old people felt while planning their funerals?

That was the end of life. This was the beginning.

It surely must feel much, much less hopeless.

He realized how easy his crimes and his life were once he wrote it out. He really fucked it up. Gods.

Don’t cry. Be a man.

He slung the duffel bag over his shoulder, taking quick, deep breaths in and out, over and over again, walking with long, quick steps that had a mind of where they had to be and how to get there. He didn’t want to run. It would be loud. He made his way over to the atrium.

Here. You’re here. Good. Breathe.

Vera gulped down air, taking it in like it was ecstasy.

He didn’t even realize he was looking down and not ahead of him until Rhine cleared her throat.

“Where are you going?”

Vera lifted his head. He glared at Rhine without meaning to.

Rhine returned an even colder stare. She pierced right through his soul. “Where are you going?” She repeated.

Vera looked to the side, gripping onto the straps of his duffel bag and digging his nails into it.

“Will you answer me, or look around like the fucking idiot you are?”

C’mon… Vera’s heart sunk. He still loved Rhine. He was leaving for her— he was leaving for everyone.

Rhine sighed, shaking her head. “…fine.” She walked to him— put her hand on his shoulder— then walked right past him. Maybe whatever was behind him was her destination all along, and she just happened to meet him on her way.

Turning back, puzzled— confused— but grateful, Vera watched Rhine disappear, getting smaller as she walked down the Train.

Then he looked back.

He had a feeling that after practically erasing who he was now— he would be lost. He wouldn’t be his own person. After Code 158, his soul, memories, thoughts— existence in everything but physical, would be gone, and a new person would use his body.

He sincerely apologized for the state it would be in after this.

To the new person— he hoped that they would like his body better than he did.

Vera repeated his name in his head, as if he would soon miss it.

***

Step 5: Take the Sheets of Metal Included in the Box Labeled ‘E’

Vera took out the talisman, pressed the stupid buttons— and watched as the circle the atrium formed closed around him, sealing and pressurizing, then opening out to the Sea.

Immediately, he fell down, nearly dropping the talisman and giving way to a world where his suicide note would be viewed fresh. Wobbling up to stand, Vera straightened himself out, weaving in the sparkling talisman within the bandages on his arms, securing it tight and using the string attached to it to keep it on steady. Finally… he took his band off, removing it from its hiding place, submerged within him, and giving it one long look.

He punted it as far as he could, into the Sea.

Its velocity seemed like it didn’t change. The band flew and flew and flew, far off into the Sea, never to be seen again.

Vera felt like a weight was lifted. He then focused on walking. It was much harder to walk in the Sea, QD had told him once. But… When she guided him, it wasn’t so bad.

He turned back to the Train. He was leaving her behind. To benefit her.

Vera tightened his eyes shut, afraid to leave her alone. But they had been alone. For two and a half weeks.

He didn’t know how he’d survived.

Now— it was one step in front of the other.

Slowly, he picked up his foot, placed it, used the other… and found a wobbly way to walk.

It would get better.

Pear Blossom cluster.

Vera reached into the duffel bag, taking out the hologram that contained the map of the stars, and looked around for a familiar star as he walked further into the Sea and away from the Train.

…there was one star he knew.

The memories came flooding back…

This one had QD. Great. He was already thinking about her again, trying to forget at the same time.

He scanned the starry sky.

Once, she’d told him…

‘I made sure this star was for you.’

‘What the hell does that mean?’

‘I have a star for you! That’s what that means!’

‘Okay, wait— literally?’

‘Yeah, duh.‘

‘You have a star for me?’

‘QUIT ASKING.’

‘I’m just confused, idiot.’

‘I really do have a star for you! Look! Up there!’

‘Where?’

She grabbed his hand, holding onto it and pointing with it as she pointed with hers. Their fingers traced an outline in the sky, searching for and nearing a large, red star in the night sky.

‘This one.’

‘…you really have a star for me??’

‘Yeah!’

‘W—well— well what’s it called?’

‘Antares. Like the one back on earth.’

‘…really…’

‘Mhm~! I saw it in the night sky once… and I thought of you! It’s so red, and so bright… but when stars glow red, that actually means they’re kinda cold. And also like a grandma star. But it’s suuuperrr huge. When it dies, it’s gonna turn into a black hole!’

‘…you say that with lots of enthusiasm.’

‘Of course! It’s your star! Pretty cooool.’

‘Heheh. Well, I do wanna go out with a bang, so…’

‘Waaaittt. I don’t want you to go out at all…!’

‘Don’t worry. It won’t be until we’re both so fuckin’ old we’ll want to go out.’

‘You really think that?!’

‘Yeah. Being old sucks.’  

‘Hehehehe.’

Vera blinked. For the first time, he didn’t need to remind himself to not cry.

‘…it’s your guiding star, Vera. That’ll always be for you.’

‘Thanks. Cheap ass gift.’

‘Cheap?! Take that back!!’

‘Yeah, cheap. I know how sharp your tongue is.’

‘Pffft.’

They laughed together. Then she leaned on his shoulder.

‘…yeah… I haven’t practiced that in a while.’

‘Eh. We don’t need to. We’re safe now… together…’

‘…mhm…’

Vera found Antares, then scanned the map in his hands to find where the cluster was compared to it.

‘…remember Antares always. I’m sure it’ll be of some use— sentimental or not— to you one day.’

Always remember Antares.

‘Sure. I’ll remember it.’

‘Uh, yeah, you’re gonna want to! It’s such a cool gift!’

‘Haha.’

‘I’m serious! If someone gave me a star, I’d marry them straight away!!’

‘I’m convinced… damn, looks like you don’t need practice.’

‘For what?’

‘Your haggling, dumbass.’

‘Ohhhhh. Hey, you’re right!!’

Vera giggled, snuggling his head closer to QD as she laughed with him.

‘Hmmm… let’s go bake a cake.’

‘Hm? Now?’

‘Yeah! I’ll make whatever flavor you want.’

‘Are you making me choose??’

‘If you’re too indecisive, I’m taking back the offer.’

‘No— no, stop— no take backsies—‘

QD’s laughter… Vera forgot how it sounded like. He still couldn’t remember.

He found himself indulging in the memory, the bits that were irrelevant and unimportant, eating cake with QD and bringing it to everyone else to try. QD was always like that with cakes. QD was a goddess. Pure perfection.

He didn’t deserve to think about her.

So, Vera put it out of his mind. Antares above him, he traced his finger along the stars the way QD had done with him, finding the Pear Blossom cluster after gazing back at the map. He went ahead and walked for it.

Antares did become his guiding star.

He wondered if QD could predict other things— in a similar way that Ammi did— and wondered if she knew all along that this was to happen.

Vera kept getting lost in sweet memories, unable to live reality as he walked toward the cluster, slowly spotting an unusual, un-starlike glow. He ran his hands through his hair for the thousandth time, constantly walking, walking.

If this was the Sea, could he sail? Maybe he could use Code 214 to make a boat… it would be faster. He wasn’t afraid of sailing in the Sea, either. It couldn’t be so bad if he could walk in it.

He already felt fatigued, so he reached into his duffel bag and had a little bit of trail mix. It was nice to focus on crunching down on food instead of the situation he’d put himself in, or the memories of the past that solidified his worst fears.

Walking… it would get really boring…

He had to get to the Deep Down, actually— he couldn’t just make a boat and sail through that damn place.

Either way, things were definitely going to get much, much more interesting there… so there was nothing boring about walking that he couldn’t handle. So long as he kept survival on his top priorities list.

Vera took in the ‘air’ of the Sea. It was weirdly unnaturally natural, filling and emptying. The feeling of breathing in little stars was the only way he could describe it— and someone had to describe how breathing in stars felt so he could truly understand what he’d meant by that.

Slowly, going back over the things Captain used to say, pairing tones with it, Vera found himself at the beginning of where Code 214 was held.

Trees covered in white blossoms lined a large and long pathway, built with huge, circular and smooth stones. The blossoms from the trees fell like snow, littering the path and air with the fake stars of winter and their sweet fragrance. At the very end of the path, which wound up like a hill, there was a large rectangle— it looked like a thick, massive picture frame— with squares within it that looked like the sky surrounding it.

Vera gave himself a moment to wash up against the shore of reality, then began to walk through the path without any difficulty to not admire the view.

The walking. Walking. Ugh.

Tedious… he somehow hoped it would get interesting. He wanted to trip and gash his knee on a suddenly sharp stone, breaking his ankle.

And it did. Vera felt a long, unbreaking and oddly intent gaze creep up his neck. He snapped his head around.

The pathway behind him was now shrouded in darkness. It was complete and total, until about an inch behind him— where it immediately diffused before it could touch him.

He stopped completely. The darkness stopped. He took one step forward. The darkness was still an inch diffused behind him. It seemed like the darkness followed him directly.

…fucking weird, but…

He continued to walk, the lingering feeling only a step away. At least it was getting interesting, especially because the pathway’s rocks all completely disappeared— except for a few.

Vera, full of extreme and sudden surprise, Quickly hopped onto a rock, unsure of how he’d pulled that maneuver off. He blinked, wide eyes taking a good look at the new path. It looked like stepping stones over a lake… if the lake was bottomless and the vast expanse of space.

Damn. Careful…

The adrenaline kicked back in— something Vera had no idea he’d been missing and experiencing all at the same time. He turned back, content with the darkness staying put, then continued to hop forwarding and mind the gaps.

It was all fairly easy until Vera stopped, seeing as all the rocks had gone from the path ahead.

He stood in place and thought for a while.

…could he walk on the path all along? Was there even a bottomless pit, or just… more bits of Sea he could walk on?

He slowly dipped a leg off the edge, as if testing the temperature of the pool or the beach.

Bottomless, from where his leg was.

Now what?

Vera looked around like he was thinking while taking his 11th grade precalculus test, or taking his 12th grade government and economy test, scanning the room for hints that weren’t even there.

The darkness wrapped its hands around Vera’s mouth, trying to drag him in.

His heart leapt, beating out of his chest quicker than a pack of seniors on the last day of school (if you wanna keep goin’ with these school themed analogies) as he ripped the hands from his face, nearly breaking his footing and falling off of the rock. He turned around, facing the darkness and seeing a shadowy head with outstretched arms.

FUCK. He gritted his teeth, pushing back and forth with the darkness, keeping his precious bag in mind. His foot slipped from the rock, and he fell on his back.

Surprising— he had fallen on a large foam block, surrounded by thick red fabric, and he had been saved. Vera’s heart calmed and swooped back up again. He pushed himself up, protectively gripping onto his bag as he staggered to a strong footing. The darkness was slowly moving towards him. A single swing of his head to the pathway ahead, Vera found where to go next. The pathway had multiple, bright and vibrant colored foam blocks and spheres.

Great. Now he had to play a stupid TV obstacle course.

Whatever. He ran to the foam blocks and spheres, hopping from each quickly— in case the path changed again. It did, actually. The foam blocks flew off into the space around them, the trees whose blossoms looked like snow fell, Vera forced to hop on and over their splitting trunks and hop on smoother rocks than before, paired with bars that floated above.

The darkness became quicker and quicker, but it didn’t worry Vera. He knew he’d be alright.

And then the sharpest rock he thought he’d ever seen in his life appeared right under his foot. He bashed his shin into it, then tripped.

He nearly fell into the pit, but landed on another foam block.

Un-fucking-fair— Vera thought, pulling his leg from under himself to examine. There was a long, bloody gash running along it. Nevermind. He had to keep going. Putting it out of his mind, he pulled himself right back up, but found his ankle burned with pain as he tried to stand again. Another tumble tripped him.

The darkness was nearing, Vera was cursing under his breath, and the pathway around him was enveloping within himself.

And Code 214 was within view. That rectangle— it looked like a big, blank canvas— a painting toy for children.

Vera sucked in all the air (if you could call the Sea’s atmosphere that) he needed to force himself to get up, suck it up, and stop fearing. He looked back, found the darkness nearing, then ran with a foot that went numb and on fire, all at the same time.

After crazier jumps and more desperate tossing around, Vera made it to an unreasonably tiny staircase. It seemed like he could just run up it like a regular hill and feel no difference. That was exactly what he did.

A loud, metal bending and screaming noise came from the darkness as it revved up and quickened. The foam blocks and trees around it fell into its vast, unknown emptiness, and threatened to do the same to Vera.

C’mon— just— get to that stupid painting— figure out whatever the hell it is— Vera screamed at himself, nearing the desired location.

A final, bone splitting step brought him to the top as his shoulders heaved and his vision blurred. He took a good look at the painting. Assuming he had to paint something on it, he slammed his fist onto the canvas, leaning on it while breathing wildly, and drew a smiley face. Every bit of energy in his body was gone as the canvas slowly melted into air (again—), and he fell through it.

He found himself in a completely white room that reflected very little, leaving everything to a matte finish. There was nothing in the room but a big wall in front of him, splitting the room off into two corridors. Turning back, Vera found that there was nothing but another wall.

Breathing, trembling, and now sitting— Vera leaned up against the wall. He examined his shin closer. Upon looking at it, the pain all returned in a flash. He slapped his forehead with a hand, digging into it as he bore the pain with another hand’s fingers curling around his thigh. The cut looked bad— and to him, totally intentional, though by who he didn’t know— and he had to treat it. That needed blue fire. He didn’t think he would be this badly injured so quickly.

The cut, as he took more care and time to examine it, ruined his wraps and exposed his cut and healed skin once more. The wraps were already deep black, sticky with his colorful blood and… some… weird bodily fluids he’d never seen before, absolutely torn. He wondered if the cut would be worse if there wasn’t a thin layer of bandages over the skin that had been torn from the bone.

He conjured up whatever energy he had left, surrounding his skin in the flickering blue light and watching as it stretched and melted back together the skin and muscles, all the bits of string he was made of. However, this didn’t last long. Vera let out an agonizing groan, his fire spent to its last straw and dying out— though not before exploding into a white flame and sparks.

Fuck. Fuck… fuck… I should’ve brought meds… I— crap… maybe I have ibuprofen in the med kit… no— I— I can’t waste it just yet— I need more energy. I’m— I’m so— tired— that shitty— it— I’m so tired… I need food… rest…

The duffel back, still at Vera’s side, was pulled off his shoulder and onto the ground next to him. He sorted through the bag, taking out the med kit and… sure. Cheese. He was going to eat cheese.

Popping a little morsel of white people heaven into his mouth, Vera let himself feel immediately relieved. Video game logic. He rummaged through the bag, made a quick vitamin water, and drank it as the deep cavern in his shin slowly pooled blood out onto the white floor. Finally, he looked through the med kit and found a small container of pills. One was put in his mouth, and washed away with the water. Within the next second, he was alert and gazing at his cut once more.

F— got it— Vera rubbed his hands together and pushed the splits of skin on his shin closer, like two high school lovers having a ‘moment’ (eat my high school analogies, bitch). Blue flickers appeared from under his palms, and his skin felt a wash of relief. He ran his hands further down his shin as the bits of skin patched themselves up. Already, he could feel his energy waning— but he managed to close the gap on his shin, wearing a fresh and white scar. With another good check, Vera ran his warm hands up and down his shin, calming his breathing as the pain there subsided.

He melted back, a pain in his ankle still pulsing throughout his entire body from its origin, and drank some more water. He didn’t expect it to be as good as an actual meal— but in terms of both energizing and taste, it was. Maybe he was just so hungry.

The slurry of cheese and water mixed around in his uncomfortable stomach, which had already forgotten what food was— again. He swallowed a tense mouth full of nothing to keep it all down, slowly pulling his leg up, wrapping his fiery hands around his ankle, and finally— moving them in every place that he found a fresh pang of pain.

By the time his leg felt okay, he was already spent and exhausted. He’d completely forgotten that he left in the middle of night— according to the time on the Train— and hadn’t slept for a good 24 or more hours. That was next… he would sleep after wrapping his shin again, thickening the layers a little more to prevent any unwinding from his fire, and then he would make Code 214.

It just felt impossible to make a driver and pay attention to instructions from a subsection on a hologram that was way too hard to find in the first place while teetering off the edge of exhaustion.

Long sentence.

…there was no justification for being lazy. Vera shook off the thought of sleep, which was already making his head bob, and slowly sat himself up. He rummaged through his bag and took out the hologram for Code 214, opening it and finding the subsection for the driver. There was the driver for the Heart Locket, and its instructions.

Then, he walked into one corridor. He found that both of the corridors led to one open room, which looked like a rich person’s garage, full of fancy and vintage cars— but instead, different three dimensional shapes with the same texture. It was a matte, low-quality image of a galaxy. There was neither shadow nor reflected light on the shapes, but Vera could see each individual side. Thick, mauve purple and bright red squares, looking like tall and simple pressure plates, rested in front of each shape. They looked like almost plaques— but they had nothing on them. It seemed better to describe them as tall pressure plates.

At the end of the room was a table, or that was what it seemed to be. Connected to the ground, like a bit of wall extending from the floor, it was where the driver was to be made.

Vera put the hologram on the table, expecting nothing— but then pulled himself back when a screen appeared before him. The hologram’s screen was displayed large, over the table and beaming bright. Instructions and a selection menu were before him.

It was nothing. He was okay. Slowly, he stepped toward it, feeling rage at the sudden, scaring appearance of something that didn’t pose an actual threat. Scrolling through the selection screen, he selected ‘Heart Driver’. Maybe nothing was kept so secret after you’d delved long enough.

The screen blinked into the image of a sphere.

One sphere

Vera blinked. He assumed it meant the various shapes behind him. Locating the sphere, he walked to it. Then, he assumed again— stepped on the sphere’s pressure plate, thinking it would make a new sphere appear.

Instead, Vera turned into a sphere.

WHAT THE FUCK

Just like it had come, the sphere state left him. He blinked rapidly, eyeing the sphere with a startled and, frankly, annoyed glare. Whatever… he had to continue. At least all the scares he was receiving woke him up little by little.

Trying the pressure plates did not work. Maybe trying to pick up the sphere would.

Vera tried just this, but ended up with a small portion that globbed off the sphere in the perfect shape, sending him back as a consequence of using too much force for something so tiny.

Whatever. He had the sphere. Promptly, he made his way to the table and placed it on it.

One prism

…okay…

Vera found the prism and took a bit of it.

One icosahedron

Uhm… definitely one of those shapes with lots of sides… but Vera couldn’t recall seeing any of those sorts.

He turned around and there were now new shapes taking the place of old ones.

What happens if I put in the wrong one…? Will I have to start over…?

Vera glanced over the other shapes. He took a wild guess and grabbed the one made up of triangle faces. The one that looked like a D20.

Carefully, he placed it on the table as if it would explode.

One pentagrammic prism

…nice. Nothing bad happened.

Pentagrammic prism… definitely just a three dimensional pentagon.

Vera was good at geometry. Good enough to know that pentagons had five sides. Therefore… pentagrammic prism…

He found one quite easily. Bringing it to the table, he awaited further instruction.

One dodecahedron

Oh! Vera knew what a dodecahedron was! 12 faces. He turned back to the shapes and glanced amongst them.

Lots of shapes looked kinda like a dodecahedron. Vera simply recognized any shape with lots of faces as maybe a dodecahedron. Because of this, he resulted to counting the faces until he totaled 12 on one shape. After double and triple and quadruple checking, he picked a bit up and put it on the table.

One torus

What was a torus?

All the shapes were now weird.

One was moving, one was spiky— another looked like a wonky donut.

He… was not smart enough for this.

I can guess, right…?

Maybe the secrets were well kept after all…

If he had his band, he could check, but… that was drifting off into the Sea. And he wouldn’t have that any other way.

Fuck it. I’m goin’ for the donut one. I want a donut. Vera briskly made his way to the donut, thinking about food and getting so hungry— but he put it out of his mind, as it pulled him back to the thought that he was on an empty stomach, 6 hours of sleep that he’d given himself 24 hours ago, and on pure delirium from calming down after a somewhat slightly stressful situation.

He nibbled the soft, bandaged part of his palm as he tossed the donut on the table.

One tesseract

Hm. Thinking with his stomach worked for once. That was good— especially since he knew what a tesseract was. Easy next step.

Vera made his way to the four dimensional cube lookin’ piece of shit. He took it, slightly surprised to be holding something four dimensional— examining the interesting movement and shapes, connected strangely.

He would’ve been much more excited if he didn’t have a ‘mission’, and if he was allowed to feel.

Nevertheless, the strange thing was put on the table.

The hologram closed, returned to its disc state, and produced a little glob that morphed into a tiny sphere, sparkling the way Glass did. It looked awfully a lot like Glass, too.

Vera took it, closely eyeing the gleam and glittery stars he believed to see within the soft, glassy and crystal clear sphere. He walked back to the room he’d first been transported to, totally fixated on the Heart Driver that pulled his attention in like a line stuck in a fish. Without even realizing, he slumped back against the wall, putting the driver in his pocket and closing his eyes.

Just a little bit… just to understand what was going on… just to comprehend all of it.

hmmm… my stomach hurts so bad…

I’ll… be home soon… fixed…

I can’t believe I’m doing it.

…everyone’ll finally be so proud of me…

…maybe they’ll love me…

Vera stirred, pulling his jacket over his shoulder, the collar fitting over the nape of his neck that his long hair would’ve covered and kept warm.

I miss everyone…

L…like a man would…

I’m so strong.

Don’t cry.

He commanded himself immediately as his face scrunched up and quivered, nearly breaking into the sinning and blasphemic emotion.

…my stomach…

I think I gave it a shock when I ate even that tiny bit…

I ate really quickly…

…maybe it’s the meds… my stomach is so empty…

…don’t vomit…

…if you vomit— that’ll do you no good. You just— have to— pick it up… and eat it all over again…

…fuckin’ gross… don’t vomit…

Thinking of vomit made him curl up suddenly, face on fire, acid crawling back up his broken throat as he clasped his mouth closed like it had a million dollars inside of it. A flood of saliva pooled in his mouth.

Don’t swallow it… don’t swallow it…

He held onto his mouth tighter.

You’re just gonna have to eat it again.

Breathe.

Vera let go of his mouth, taking time to breathe. He pretended like the air was something that wouldn’t make him throw his insides out in front of him, and pretended it was food at the same time.

He put a hand on his shoulder and pretended it was someone else comforting him.

Stop that. It’s not what a man would do.

The hand fell from his shoulder.

Convincing himself to stop convulsing in churning pain, cold and hot sweat, boiling and icy blood, sick and drowning thoughts… and the lingering but cleverly concealed longing for home, love and approval, Vera’s face lost its expression as his energy was spent. Soon, it read and wrote nothing, and his internal struggle waned away, leaving his only eyebrows knitted in the tight weave of his masterfully crafted hate and worry.

…Captain…

***

Step 6: Now, Take the Small Allen Wrench In the Bag Labeled ‘R’

Vera woke up with his cheek pressed against his duffel bag. When he lifted it, the imprint of the bag was clear on his cheek— it burned without him even needing to touch it. Realizing he had fallen asleep, he mercilessly yanked himself up.

“G—god—“ he held his head, feeling his face as it pinched him. “—ggoddd, oh— God—“

Last night, he had another dream about Captain.

But what was even worse was the fact that he’d fallen asleep by accident. He should’ve known that the moment he closed his eyes, he was never coming back.

“—shhhhitt, shit— fuck—“ he groaned again and again, hating himself irrationally.

He didn’t deserve to sleep. He had to make up for it. Running a hand through his bangs, he had an idea— and grabbed a clump of his hair. Cut it? Tug on it? The latter would be okay… so, Vera pulled on his bangs like they needed to be ripped out from his scalp. It worked. It hurt a lot.

Don’t cry. You deserve this. Everything.

After a while, Vera finished taking out his anger on himself, and simply hugged his knees to his chest.

…

…I’m so fucking stupid… Why did I sleep…

He ran his hands through his hair over and over, breathing in and out like he was about to spontaneously combust.

Gods… Gods… no… okay, don’t— don’t cry… don’t cry…

Vera calmed himself. He held it in. Finding that he was getting better at it, he slowly packed his duffel bag back to how it was before with shaky hands.

…ugh…

Just move forward. He slung the duffel bag over his shoulder as he stood to walk.

Ignoring the unimportant things, Vera looked around in the room for any exit. He walked through the corridors again, double checking the room full of shapes (which now sparkled with color, excited to see him). Then, he saw something he hadn’t seen before— the wall right behind the table was just like the one in the main room, splitting off one long corridor into two, both at its sides. Assuming they would take him both to the same place, Vera walked through the nearest one.

At the end, both the corridors led to the same room… and this room was tiny. The only thing in it was a squished, square shaped chute in the wall.

An exit?

I think I can fit in there… thought Vera, who looked down at his chest and body. Maybe he’d gotten thin enough.

He walked to the chute and got onto his knees, examining the space. It would be a tight fit, and he didn’t want to drop his bag down before him… just in case it magically disappeared— perfectly plausible in the Sea. Slinging the duffel bag into his arms and holding onto it like a parent riding down a slide with their child, Vera shuffled into the chute and made his way down.

The chute was like a tight, uncomfortable and definitely not fun slide. Vera made his way down so slowly he thought he might die of suffocation before he reached the bottom. Eventually, he made it, dropping down from the top of another wall somewhere outside of the Code 214 room.

Landing on the floor, Vera took a moment to make sense of the anticlimactic slide. He stood up once more, bag right back onto his shoulder. Looking around, he saw that he was in a hall where the ceiling stretched up to be about ten times his height. There were pillars that were more like arches making up the outer wall of the corridor, and the space where the arches arched over were much like windows to the galactic skies the Sea was entirely constructed of. It was all the same, matte white material that made the light hitting it soft, while flaunting sharp edges.

…now I gotta go to the Deep Down… uhm…

Opening his bag and pulling out the useless hologram map, Vera looked around for where the Deep Down was labeled. Somewhere about… east… he walked to an arch and examined the starry sky.

He saw Antares, unwaveringly burning in the noisy, fiery crowd of the Sea.

Back to the map. Once more positioning himself with the sight of the stars, he traced his finger across the sky and found where the Deep Down was.

Unmistakable, actually… A single but closer look gave Vera the view of a deep cavern, almost like a tear in the fabric of gravity and stars. There was a sparkling bridge spanning over it. If you didn’t look close enough, and didn’t know where to find it, it would look almost like another cluster of stars, or even cosmic dust and gas.

The map was put safely back into Vera’s bag.

Walk over, I guess… am I allowed to walk here? Will I fall down?

Vera walked closer to the edge, then tested out the ground below.

…yup. Safe.

The ground was completely fine to walk on, level with the floor of the corridor. Vera made his way onto it, heading for the bridge.

It was another boring walk, so he counted his steps before his mind wandered somewhere he didn’t want it to go.

***

The bridge was in view. Vera was at his 876,514th step.

Probably.

He didn’t actually count— he got lost looking off into the distance and forgot how to do anything but walk. This was very ‘in character’, as he couldn’t do a single thing right.

Nearing the bridge, Vera prepared himself to teeter and glare off the edge. The cavern below was the Deep Down, and the bridge connected the edges of the cavern to each other. It allowed for the Sea to be completely traversable, even if there was only one bridge that took some time to get to if you weren’t near it, but on the edge of the cavern.

Was it a valley? Canyon?

Maybe it was a canyon.

It was like those things in Minecraft.

Oops, wait, we’re not allowed to say Minecraft—

A-Ammi?

Ahhh… uhm… hey, Vera…

AMMI???

…yesssss?

WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?!

Uhm… the usual…

GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!! WE’VE BEEN OVER THIS!!!

…have weeee?

YES. YOU STAY OUT OF MY HEAD WHEN I WANT TO BE ALONE.

Ohhh… no, we haven’t been through this…

YES WE HAVE. DO NOT FUCKING LIE TO ME.

Hmmm~ why’re you so defensive about it? What if I was trying to make you feel better…?

AMMI. Please. I need privacy.

Do you?

Yes. I’m so serious right now.

Okay, okay… I believe you…

Thanks. Now get out of my head.

Whyyy?

AMMI.

Uggghhh… but that’s ruining all the fun!

I’M NOT JOKING. GET OUT.

Why? Thinking about boobs or something??

No. Please just leave.

You wouldn’t be so defensive if you were telling the truth.

I want privacy because I don’t want to be judged by your stupid ass.

Hm? Judged? By me? I’m not judgemental.

You sound legitimately so fucking stupid right now

Wow… the only judgy person in this conversation is you, I’m afraid…

Leave.

All I did was say we couldn’t say… y’know… cube game!

I cannot stress how much I need you to leave.

Just tell me why!

…I don’t want to sound like I’m… depressed? Because I’m not. Or emo. I’m none of those things. But my thoughts are gross.

Ohhh, so you are thinking about boobs. Hey, get your stinky butt away from QD! What’re you going to do to her?!

Vera sighed. Nothing that I haven’t done.

WHAT

SHIT TH—THAT’SWHYYOUNEEDTOFUCKINGLEAVE

VERA???

SOMETIMES I FORGET I TALK TO YOU AND THEN MY MIND DOES THE CASUAL ‘MIND OF ITS OWN’ THING BECAUSE IT. IS MY MIND.

UHMMM… OKAY… I THINK I BELIEVE YOU…

GOOD. GET THE FUCK OUT.

OKAY BYE

…

…

…hello?

…good…

Vera buried his face in his hands. That was so embarrassing.

Ammi was out there somewhere. She probably knew Vera was out, searching for Code 158 and the Locket— and she was going to make it even harder for him to get into.

Staring off into the distance, forgetting where he was, Vera thought. Then something in the corner of his vision caught his attention.

…it kinda looked like QD when she was surfing through the Sea. The way her hair began to glow, lengthen to…

IT’S FUCKING QD.

Vera glanced around, completely discombobulated. Okay. So.

They were after him.

No way in fucking HELL would he let them stop him. No. Not a chance.

Ammi didn’t want him to change— but why was QD looking for him now??? Was she even looking for him??

Self centered thought. She’s just exploring again. Fixing things up.

I’m fixing something, too…

She could very well be looking for him, or just taking a look around. Ammi had mentioned a while ago that the Sea had just burst into new creation, and there were still lots of things to find.

…but then again…

Ammi knew she was out. She didn’t want him to use Code 158.

There was a possibility she was trying to stop him, and that still lingered above Vera’s head.

He sunk down, hiding behind the bridge he wasn’t even on yet. He hoped that the perspective-or-whatever would hide him. Between the sparkles, albeit hard to see— QD was clearly waltzing around, a few miles off.

Ugh. No. Nope. Yikes. She looked like what a horror game would describe as a ‘watcher’, but she was still beautiful and perfect in every way. A beautiful, glistening, beam of light, outshining the infinite numbers of stars in this cosmic world, made to make her shine.

Vera’s face lit on fire, shoulders burning once again. He hid his face from no one, breathing in and out to attempt to cool himself down. He really missed her. It was bad to keep thinking about it.

Okay… okay… I… have to get on task… she’s gonna be here any moment.

But first— he needed more information.

Ammi was after him, basically. QD was searching.

They knew he was out and gone.

They knew he was looking for Code 158.

They didn’t know he knew that— and they probably assumed his intelligence must’ve been average, or even less.

…Hating himself was different than being an idiot, he thought…

The point was made. Vera didn’t consider himself to be intellectually stupid (however, as he thought about it more, yes, he did), but he thought that everyone else would.

They wouldn’t know he knew.

Just act stupid.

Just be yourself, really. 

Vera took a deep breath in. Okay. Talk to Ammi again.

Ammi… uhm… are you there, actually…?

…

Hey! I’m glad to see you miss me already.

Haha. Sure. He did. Where are you?

Hmm, I could ask the same.

I’m in my room.

I’m not that stupid, Vera.

Okay, fine. Do you know where I am, then?

Out in the Sea. You’re trying to get 158, aren’t you?

Yeah.

You’ll never find it.

Thanks for the encouragement.

You’re welcome!

Where the hell’d you hide it??

Not telling~

UGH. FINE. LEAVE NOW.

Gladly~!

Vera blinked. It was quiet.

You’re not gone, are you?

No.

You’re not narrating, are you?

Nope.

Really?

My fourth wall breaks can only go so far.

…okay.

Believe me now?

Yeah. Now you have to get out.

Okay.

Another extended period of silence, with Vera realizing he had been squatting completely still, in front of the bridge, this entire conversation.

…you here?

…

…

…good.

He sighed, walking onto the bridge.

I’m supposed to jump into the cavern… I think that’s how this works.

Vera walked onto the bridge, admiring the span over the long valley, especially how it seemed to stand so well without any foundation or support. The Sea was definitely quite strange.

Each step he took sounded like crystals hitting against each other, ringing out one clear ‘tink’, like a note from a piano that seemed to be conceived of winter.

The walk on the bridge wasn’t so boring. It seemed calming, in fact. It numbed Vera’s mind in a way he’d never had it been before.

It was always ‘forget it’, ‘swallow it’, ‘suck it up’, ‘it doesn’t matter’, ‘it wastes time’… never ‘it’s okay’ or ‘you’re still here, and I’m glad’.

Vera ran his hand along the railing of the bridge, smooth and shining with the light of a thousand speckled skies. He let out a sign of relief, feeling the sense of calm he’d been longing for.

…

Which wasted time.

His hand, running along the railing, had hit something. Opening his eyes, he found it was a sign. In big, bold letters, it read:

DO NOT JUMP

Vera glared at it.

Holding onto his duffel bag with one hand and the railing with another, he swung his leg over the bridge, then the other followed until he sat on the railing. He dangled his legs over the valley like it was a joke. It was.

This was good. It would probably let out all his suicidal urges.

He pushed himself off.

***

Vera was falling, falling, falling… falling. The light from the starry universe of the Sea slowly twinkled and faded away, shrouded by the darkness— or just the absence of its presence.

Falling down blew wind through Vera’s hair. It blew wind through his clothes. He clutched onto his bag, pretending he was a schoolgirl who had just jumped off a building. He pretended he was really ending it all, he pretended like he wouldn’t be fine after hitting the ground— he pretended his head, like a watermelon, would crack and smash open. Then it wouldn’t be capable of a single stupid thought ever again. And the threat would be neutralized.

In spite of all his pretending and dreaming, Vera hit the floor, feeling cushioned.

He had fallen and was fine.

In spite of the world, then, Vera laid down and pretended to be dead. He closed his eyes and laid still.

Then he sat up.

You’re not depressed. Why would you want to kill yourself? You’re just wasting time. You’re not depressed. You’re just lazy! You don’t want to fix yourself. You’re such a shame. You have never made anyone proud. That’s because you’re lazy. And your excuse is depression. You’re undermining the people who are actually struggling. Plus— QD’s trying to stop you. You can’t let that happen.

Get up.

You bitch.

Vera dug his nails into his cheeks, trying to test if he could draw his own blood.

He stood up and straightened himself out, looking around the endless darkness of the Deep Down.

There was a rusty elevator that looked like it belonged in a coal mine. It probably did. Walking up to it, admiring the way the mesh of the metal that surrounded it made it look like a prison, he pulled it to the side to open. The door folded in on itself, exposing a small elevator with lowered, rusting, metal shelves that were supposed to be benches. Or seats.

Vera entered the elevator, then closed the door. He put his bag down on the elevator floor and sat on a bench— the one facing the door.

There was a loud creak from the rickety piece of shit that the elevator was. It began to move, slowly lowering.

How much further do I have to go…?

Vera waited for about ten solid minutes. He actually counted to 400 about twice— but was unsure if he had skipped a number or was counting too quickly. That made ten solid minutes.

…hmm… now would be a good time to eat or sleep. I’m not gonna be able to go anywhere… this might take a while…

It was perfectly reasonable.

But Vera felt as if he should still suffer for sleeping earlier.

I couldn’t have just waited until I got here, could I…?

There was barely anything to do. Once again— bad. Sooner or later he would think about QD or Captain, or about… anyone else. He had to distract himself, but it was so boring in an elevator.

He could rewrite his suicide note.

…that would only make him think even harder.

His stomach, getting upset again, churned and rumbled.

Maybe he could eat. Just tiny, tiny bits. To calm his stomach. To get some energy back. To lift the load the duffel bag gave him… see— the more he ate, the less it weighed— the less it weighed, the less energy was needed to carry it.

Excuses.

By the end, Vera slowly pushed the zipper, bored, and found his duffel bag was open.

…oops… I must’ve left it open…

He looked inside. His stomach hurt. It needed food. It. Needed. Food. He. Was. Starving.

A little pained laughter caught itself in Vera’s throat, letting itself loose and burning his throat up.

No— if he ate— he would get bigger. He wouldn’t be thin. He wouldn’t be deserving.

There was so much wrong with eating.

His hand was inside the bag.

Maybe there was leniency… somewhere. And… he… could… just have a bit.

A bit.

A bit.

Small.

Tiny.

I won’t get so big. I’ll just get energy. I’ll be energized. I need that. So I can get Code 158 and change myself. Then I will be okay.

I need it.

I need it.

Gods, I need it.

This is for everyone.

Help myself, help everyone else.

Vera thought this as he ate an entire stack of crackers.

…

…

…

…

…

…I think I might genuinely need to fucking kill myself.

…the food looked so good, but so gross at the same time.

Maybe his stomach was back in shock— but he needed to vomit. He couldn’t figure out which was better.

Keep it in and suffer the consequences— or throw up. And eat it.

Keep it in… I… did it to myself, anyways…

I did this to myself…

He held back tears as he ate another cracker. He hated himself.

***

Vera had to sleep again.

One— his body needed it. He was forced to take care of it, so it could go on and carry him to the end of his mission.

Two— it was the only way to stop thinking about himself and Captain and QD.

Three— he could not stop eating. His body screamed for food, but his mind went against it. In the end, his mind won, and made him put the crackers away with great hesitation, then lay on the bench like a homeless person.

So here he was.

He had a terrible nightmare, because that’s all he ever got out of sleep. Another soul-crushing, fear-inducing, hellhole his mind made up for him in an act of love. Yet again, about the ship.

I don’t even care about the ship. Stupid nightmares about it just appear. It wasn’t that big of a deal.

He cleared his throat and sat up. His stomach would not stop crying. Maybe it needed to learn how to be a man.

All of… that pampering. Living with QD and… having fun. Going out with Dan, Hira, Cory… it’s made me soft. No wonder I’ve been having such a hard time.

Domestic life…?

Whatever the hell it is, it’ll kill me.

Vera stretched out, then rummaged through the bag for the pack of cigarettes. He grabbed it, opened the box, then took out a cigarette. Flicking a small spark on it was all that it needed to light up. The small thing glowed red, burning away, and Vera sighed. Good… good life… he needed to harden up. Pressing the cigarette to his lips and taking a deep breath in, he wondered how exactly he started smoking in the first place.

…hm… fighting all the time… that’s when…

Cigarettes were good when you were fighting. They made you happier.

The elevator continued to lower, Vera sitting inside as he wondered when the hell it would stop. It wasted too much time. Figuring he could make it faster if he tore it apart and jumped out, Vera looked out the window. There were faint outlines of stalagmites and stalactites, but they weren’t dripping off water chocked full with minerals. They were empty, rocky, grey and cold. Being rocks.

Other than that, there wasn’t much to see. Just the pitch dark, humid and warm atmosphere.

It was so dark…

Vera used to be afraid of the dark. About five minutes ago he was. However, taking in a smoky breath, he realized that there was nothing to be afraid of in the dark. There was nothing that could hurt him. On the Code 214 pathway— that was a special case. The Sea was the Sea. And plus– he’d been afraid then. He wasn’t afraid anymore. It wasn’t anything to worry about.

He flicked the cigarette back and forth in between his fingers. A smile grew on his lips once he thought about how much happier the cigarette was making him. That was the mindset he had.

…I’m definitely a man.

Unfortunately, his chest disagreed.

…I'll… fix that later.

There was no point in thinking about what gender he was now. But– just to get it out of the way– he wanted to decide now. For once and for all.

I think I’m a guy.

He wanted to be a girl.

I’m a guy.

No. No he was not.

Okay– I don't cry. I have never cried. I am strong. I protect people. I can survive on nothing. I can kill with ease. Men can do that. I am a man.

…but there was everyone else. Rhine was stronger than him in every way. She was a woman.

Uhm… women can give birth. I can’t.

…oh boy.

        I am a guy. No matter what.

        …maybe I want to be a girl…

        He couldn’t have both.

        Could he?

        Nope. Only one option. I am a man.

        It was settled.

        And it was very easy to deal with, too. He was just being a baby about it. How soft he’d become… but it was over now. He got that done.

        Good…

        Another breath of clouded air, and Vera melted back into his seat. That was that. Now all he had to do was wait some more, which wouldn’t be too hard, and he could continue.

        Manly.

        The elevator went down.

        ***

        Finally, the elevator jerked to a stop. Vera was brushing out his hair (which he hadn’t expected to not take forever) when it tossed him around in his seat. Luckily, nothing from his bag fell out. That was a mess he didn’t have to worry about.

        Vera stood up, bag slung back over his shoulder, then he pulled the door open.

        He was met with a cave, the floor flooded with water. There were stones that peeked out, like platforms to avoid the water with, extending on to the end of a rocky cliff. Behind it, Vera could see light and more rocks– but nothing else.

        Walking out of the elevator and looking up, he saw that the elevator had no mechanisms atop it to get it from point a to point b. It was like it just appeared, but appeared as a prison lodged into stone.

        Yup. Normal…

        He turned to the water, then noticed a rounded, cauldron-looking brazier. It was before the water, unlit, unfueled. Curiously, Vera put a hand to it.

        It erupted into blue flame.

        Vera’s eyes shone with the flickering reflection of blues and hot whites. He’d found a friend.

        The fire enticed him as he cupped his hands around it, following the flames and brushing them off to the side. The flames responded by fluttering against his palms, giving his rough hands warm kisses.

        Pulling himself away from the luring glow, Vera ran a finger along the rim of the brazier before he brought his attention along with him. He eyed the water. There were more braziers, he realized, on some rocks. Instead of the friendly blue fire, those other braziers were full of orange and red generic fire. Despite their difference, Vera walked to them, hopping from each illuminated rock to another. Some of the rocks had no brazier, which made Vera quite curious. His steps, light and calculating, landed themselves on a rock without one.

From the darkness, the corners of his vision were blurred. It looked like two hands were slowly creeping up on him, about to cover his eyes and whisk him away without even asking ‘guess who?’.

He jumped out of his skin, then scrambled to really jump onto a rock with a brazier. The dark hands dispelled themselves.

I guess the light’s where I gotta stay, then.

Vera hopped from rock to rock, paying attention to his time spent in the dark and the water below, which he swore he saw stir, holding a shadow that wasn’t his. At the edge of the flooding, the rocks rose from the watery ground and out into the air, forming a cliff. Vera hopped onto them, was greeted by another blue brazier, and eyed the scenery.

It was a whole cave system, but it held peculiar things. A forest with trees that were all no taller than three inches above Vera’s height, massive statues of warriors next to a tall, stone gate, rocky formations (that reminded him of Verdant) rising from the abyss, entrances to mineshafts and old, forgotten campsites, with a glowing, bulbous and agitated white mass only a few feet above it. Littered were two orbs that were so metallic, it was like they reflected a grey and blue sky rather than the cave around them, breaking all laws of… everything.

The gaseous flames tickled Vera’s side as he cupped a hand over them, totally distracted by his view. Looking around, he saw a few more braziers, and readied himself for a long journey.

He looked at his left hand, where he’d tucked the talisman neatly in his bandages. It was still in strong. Now, confident, he hopped from the cliff (which was more like a hill) onto the lowering ground under him.

More red braziers guided his path to jumps on rocks over abysses. He landed on a crossroads between another watery place, leading to a cave, a mineshaft— though, it was out of reach— and the rocky structures jutting out of the void.

…maybe the water.

Vera hopped on a few rocks, leading him to another rocky spot. He lit up a blue fire brazier as he brushed past it, then examined the area.

Just more stones to step on. Vera noticed the red fire braziers were much more scarce here, so he would have it be quick in hopping on each of them and avoiding being dragged off into the darkness.

He hopped from one rock to another, stopping to catch his breath on the first brazier.

Damn… so tired already… fuckin’ weak…

The rocks, as he hopped through the watery cave, were becoming rare. He would soon have to trudge through the water (which was deepening) to get to the next step.

b…my bag. It’s gonna get wet. And my pants will, too… and… my jacket… and my bandages… is the skin from my healing already tough…? My fire’s been wack as fuck lately… hopefully it is…

To solve the problem, Vera tossed his bag to the next rock, hoping it didn’t get swallowed up by something in the dark, and put one foot cautiously in the water. It was cold. But that was nothing a man should worry about. With a little bit of difficulty, he made it to the next rock as the corners of his vision blurred.

Fuck. I’m not gonna make it. The next brazier is two rocks away.

Quickly, Vera pulled himself up on the rock, then cupped his hands around each other and sent out a little blast of red flame. It died out quickly, Vera feeling sluggish already. But it worked to shoo away the darkness’ plan of covering his eyes.

That was only for a moment, however. Vera picked up his bag and surged it back, tossing it forth to the next rock. He repeated the process until he reached the brazier.

The fuck… I think I might need to bring a torch or something like that with me…

Sitting on the rock, one hand running its fingers along the brazier, Vera examined his bag to see that it was luckily still dry.

Maybe the crackers are already broken, hehe…

Not funny.

He closed his eyes and bit his lip. It was okay. He was just soft. This was okay. He was toughening up. ‘Just had to deal with it.

Vera opened the bag and ate another little piece of cheese, for energy. He realized he might need to eat all of it soon. It would spoil.

Standing up, Vera eyed the next few rocks. Getting a somewhat good idea, he sat back down again, then rummaged through his bag.

I could use a match… ‘just hold it in my hands to not get shrouded in darkness. It’s probably gonna be way too tiny to do anything, though… hm…

He came to the conclusion that everything in his bag was too valuable to burn, and too inefficient if he decided that something wasn’t.

Fine. I just have to keep going in this stupid water…

…my pants are already soaking wet…

Vera thought about using the bathroom. He had not done so in ages.

Fuckin’ gross… I’m just gonna… ignore that thought.

Wading through the water, giving off little blasts of fire, tossing his bag onto rocks… the cave seemed endless. And after a while, the same problem arose— BORING.

Making it onto what seemed like the thousandth rock, Vera caught his breath and leaned against the brazier. He wasn’t too worried about his hair catching on fire… he practically lived in it, anyways.

A wave of tiredness hit him. Maybe just… close your eyes for a while.

—OH FUCK NO. NUH-UH. NOT WITH WHAT HAPPENED LAST TIME.

Vera slapped himself awake. A

Something’s gotta catch my attention…

He studied the water carefully.

…was there another shadow in it?

That was attention-catching. Vera slowly leaned off the rock, gazing into the water. There was something in it, alright. It circled around a few rocks, sometimes waiting nowhere near them. But it moved.

The fuck… He leaned closer and closer to the water, and he swore he could see the shadow’s features. It swam so close up to him, its face nearly pressing against his. Vera narrowed his eyes, and, in the low light, managed to see the face.

It was his. He looked awful.

The shadow grabbed his head, trying to drag it down. Startled, he held onto the edge of the rock tight, but his head was fully submerged. He was being clawed at, and he tried to fight back. Unfortunately— he had let out a scream, breathing in, and caused water to rush into his lungs. It felt like he was on fire. He was always on fire.

Eventually, after shoving his hands into the water and tearing off the thing’s grip on his head, Vera pulled himself out of the water and coughed out masses of water. Wrapping his arms around his stomach and pumping it all of his own, he managed to get most of the water out.

He was still breathless and shaken, shoulders heaving with every gasp of air.

Usually, water was not scary… it was his friend… he never swallowed any of it, never had his lungs full of it.

Once, he had come close…

There was no time to waste thinking about that. Vera was here for one thing— so, with another, forceful slap, he knocked himself out of it.

Surviving was easy. Vera could survive anything. Even a measly little drowning. It couldn’t hold him back before, so it couldn’t hold him back now.

Drowning was never a problem. Drowning, in fact, was laughable— if you didn’t let drowning hurt you, you weren’t hurt. People just said drowning was scary and awful because they thought it could hurt them.

It could not. Ships sinking were adventure stories and jokes.

I’m gonna fucking kill that shadow. With this promise, Vera ran his hands through his wet hair.

Great. He was wet both top and bottom— just not in the middle.

Straining out his wet clothes and hair, bunching them up and drying them out, Vera sat next to the brazier to recuperate and ignore his Captain telling him to wake up.

***

After the water made its way to Vera’s shoulders, he spent more time at the rocks with braziers on them. He didn’t want to catch a cold. At the same time, he wanted to go quickly. QD might be down here at any moment.

…I still need to dry off my clothes… I’m soaking wet…

Either way, drying himself off wouldn’t do anything. Vera could see the light at the end of the cave, but making his way through the water was getting much more difficult to do. There was still more to go through. He just had to go through it.

A few more tosses of his bag, a quick chase down by the monster, and Vera saw the light from the cave’s exit. Wading through the water, he made it.

Waiting for him at the exit was one of those glowing, metallic orbs. He brushed himself off, lit the blue brazier next to it, and tapped it.

The metallic orb jumped from under his fingertips, then flew to the large stone door. Something on it lit up.

Damn. All of that for an orb? Vera ran a hand through his somewhat wet hair, learning over the brazier as he dried himself off. A quick glance over to his bag told him it was still dry.

He hummed to himself, running his fingers through his bangs like they were teeth of a comb (even though he brought one). The fire was so warm, so friendly and so beautiful. Reaching his hand into it and swishing his hand back and forth into it, he controlled the fire with a small smile. The rest of the cave caught his attention for a little while, and he admired the rest of it. The forest, the rocks jutting out of the void, the stone door, the campsite.

Maybe… the mineshafts next…? Or the campsite. The campsite, yeah— that’ll be good.

Vera took a deep breath in, then out. The fire was so welcoming… and he bent down into it. It surrounded him, he controlled it, and the fire and he loved each other.

It dried him very nicely.

After another snack, energizing himself with both it and the fire, he stood up and put his bag right over his shoulder. The jump down wasn’t so difficult— all he had to do was fall into a roll.

He made the jump, rolled into it nicely, and examined the rest of the cave. He hopped over rocks, sped through dark areas, reached red braziers and made it to the campsite. The white mass above it provided enough light for the darkness to be dispelled.

The campsite held only generic green tents, lined up in two rows that faced each other. Vera looked into a few, curiously searching them. Maybe they had food.

To his disappointment, there was not any food. Only burnt out fires— though, they held some quality wood.

There’s no way this isn’t for some sorta puzzle. I can’t just take a thing of wood and leave with it… though, it would be nice to use as a torch…

It needed more research, so that was exactly what Vera did. Each tent was thoroughly searched from front to back, inside to out. There happened to be a difference in the amount of logs in each campfire.

‘Wonder what that could mean. Do I have to light them in that order?

Not enough clarity… and Vera didn’t want to waste energy on fire. Maybe he could take a bit of the wood… as he walked back into a tent, he thought of what these fires would hold— and took a piece from them, lit it with a small spark, and touched it to the rest of the campfire below.

It burst into flame, and Vera nodded slowly. Time to light the rest.

He went into each tent, lighting each fire. Three tents, two rows, facing each other— and Vera definitely lit more than 10 fires.

These fires are going out. It’s some sorta light puzzle. He carefully guided the torch’s wild flames out of a tent, then examined the others.

The darkness of the tents were lit up if their lights were on. Vera saw only two of the six tents lit up.

Hm… okay… set out all the fires, write out which ones they light up, then figure it out from there… puzzles like this usually work out once all the lights are on.

Vera walked to the two lit tents, carefully patted out their fires, and then examined the outside once again.

All turned off.

Good.

Whipping out his notepad and pen (which he tested out on the top once more with a few scribbles), he drew a grid of the tents out. Two columns… three rows. Inside of each grid, he drew another grid.

Then the research began!!!

Each tent was lit once. First, the tent at the first column and first row. It lit itself, of course.

The fires definitely light themselves. Why wouldn’t they…? They just have to light another fire…

In the first column and first row, Vera colored the small grid inside of it accordingly. It was time to see what else had been lit, if anything at all. To Vera’s satisfied assumption, something else lit up. The second column, second row. That was colored in the first column, first row’s small grid. Because all fires would light themselves, Vera colored in the corresponding row and column for each mini grid on the grid. The second row, first column’s mini grid now had its second row, first column colored in. This meant that the third row, first column also had its mini grid colored in at the third row, first column. Not confusing at all.

The process repeated. Vera carefully put out each fire, colored in the other fire that the one he purposefully lit lit up (lit? lit.), and came out with a nice diagram.

First row, first column lit itself and the second row, second column.

Second row, first column lit itself and the third row, second column.

Third row, first column lit itself and the second row, second column.

First row, second column lit itself and the third row, first column.

Second row, second column lit itself and the second row, first column.

Third row, second column lit itself and the first row, second column.

‘Sounds hella confusing. Vera ran his hand through his bangs, ruffling them out and scrunching up the rest of his hair. It took him only a few seconds to figure out the rest of the puzzle.

Okay… if I go down the first column and label each tent by 1, 2, 3… and repeat the same for the second column but by 4, 5, 6… then…

He took one look up at the tents, recounting to make sure the numbers corresponded in the way he knew they would.

The answer is 1, 2, 4. Time to light them…

The torch, still burning at his side, was carefully taken into the first, second and fourth tents. Just as Vera speculated, he heard a loud rumbling noise.

Excitedly, Vera ran out of the fourth tent— only to find the orb was only half way out of the ground.

…wrong solution?

He undid all the fires, wondering what the problem was now. All of them lit up, they were all done and good— maybe there was a missing one? Maybe something was left out? Was he supposed to do it a certain way? Maybe he should’ve done— instead of 1, 2, 4— 2, 1, 4… Code 214…

However, all the doubt and confusion melted away once Vera pulled back the tent’s flap door, crouching to stand, and saw the orb lying flat on the ground, barely even wedged into the rocks below it. He nodded, completely confident in his status as a strong, masculine man. Yeah. He was smart. He could solve a stupid puzzle. Hell yeah.

Nearing the orb, Vera reached out to touch it. It whizzed past his head, appearing at the door for a split second and a flash. Gone.

Hell yeah. Hell YEAH. I’m so fucking good at this… b-but that was too easy, so, y’know, I— I welcome the challenge.

Next area.

Okay… mineshaft or forest or crazy ass rocks?

Hmm… crazy ass rocks… they seem cool. But I also wanna check out that forest first, only because those stupid rocks look more like something you do at the end— along with that mineshaft— and the forest just seems okay.

Vera then headed for the just seems okay forest. Hopping over each rock, minding the gaps of abyss that he could fall bottomlessly through , he eventually got to the forest.

The trees around seemed healthy, adult— but just really short. They were also weirdly lined up. Uniform, but not. A slant to their rows and columns. Ah, rows and columns… They were already so nostalgic. Before counting any of them, however, Vera did what he did for the fires (which was not so hard to remember that he did) and searched for any clues before actually going forth.

There were no twigs. The grass was perfect and flat, and it looked much like fake turf— only, real grass. It had a strange crunching quality to it. Not like fresh, or dry grass… like thin, brittle needles made of fragile slate. Each tree seemed like they were oddly perfect, with the same elements, like small branches sticking out, printed on every tree. It seemed like a design choice that these trees decided was needed to look like a tree. Along with that, the trees were startlingly cold to the touch, and the bark was like smoothened yet corrugated stone. Each pine needle— the trees looked like pine— was so extremely sharp, and even when Vera wasn’t touching them, it seemed like they were all threatening and pointing at him. Their air and aura all seemed to say: ‘I am a sharp, harming object. Get away from me. Stay a good distance away.’ Though, upon further inspection and prodding and poking, the needles were just as brittle as the grass. Upon even closer inspection… The pines had a vibrant green clumped onto them. It looked like layers and layers of paint, barely even a sleek point. One even snapped off, revealing a brittle crumble and dark grey inside.

Vera’s face scrunched up in utter confusion. He poked at the broken end again, watching it fall under the gentlest touch he had ever given to something so hard and cold. Now, with even more curiosity, Vera scratched the bark with a fingernail. Old, lumpy and thick bits of paint came off with ease. Even the grass was a lie. It squished under his foot like normal blades of squishy, watery grass, but it wasn’t grass. It was squishy stone. Something like tar.

…fuck… what…?

Now, extremely uncomfortable, Vera’s hands went to his shoulders, then the arms below them. He rubbed them back and forth, unconsciously calming himself.

What the hell is all of this?? …I should’ve known… these trees are too damn short. They’re look like they’ve just been painted or sculpted here. The grass looks like shit. The branches are oddly placed. The needles are clumpy. Everything looks off. It— it looks like someone tried to make nature perfect… nature isn’t perfect… that’s so strange…

But, as a man, he wasn’t afraid. He was merely speaking some wisdom about nature’s nature, saying things… about it…

…

He shook his head. Blanking out, exhausted, had a strange quality.

Just like this forest. And these trees. And grass and pines.

Which he should probably get back to.

Good times.

Vera ran his hand through more pines, all crumbling and falling over each other like dominos, then falling to the ground through the space between other pines like marbles in a maze, or pinballs in a pin thing where you go bam bing bing bing whop, dingalingaling.

All of this is fake… all stone… he repeated in thought, brushing the powdery, ashy and totally ground pieces of the painted rock off on his pants. Fake…

The powder was all off. The forest was all fake. When Vera looked up, he noticed something staring at him and peeking from behind a tree.

It wasn’t even trying to hide. It had one pair of two red, almond eyes, with black pupils that melted into the rest of its nighttime figure. It blinked unevenly at Vera, creeping further out from the tree.

The. Fuck.

Vera took a step back.

The tree thing took a step forward. It held something in its hands, which swung from side to side like a hypnotic trick, the pendulum of a grandfather clock, the newly hanged body on the noose. It was a rope. It was a noose.

Shit???

This led to a series of steps back from Vera, so many piling up until he rammed into a tree, expecting the needles to bite him a little before crumbling to dust and sand… but as he looked up, he saw one strong, sturdy branch a good meter above him, part of a toweringly tall tree. He could already see a tied rope on it.

The tree thing scuttled its way to Vera, totally up in his face with the noose, opening a deep red mouth that was lined with dark pricks and gooey substances that reeked.

SHIT.

Vera’s heart leapt through his throat and the top of his skull. He pressed himself against the tree.

Gods— wh—why aren’t I doing anything??

He couldn’t seem to move his body.

MOVE! MOVE!!

His eyes peeled from the tree thing, face alight, blood frozen and freezing him in place.

KILL IT!!!

Anxiety rushed in with adrenaline. But, unlike every other time in his life, Vera stood still and practically cowered. He was supposed to be a man, but his heart was beating like a woman’s.

No. No. No, Vera, no— not to some— tHING from A DAMN TREE!!!

You— kill— you’ve gotta— gotta kill it, man,— be— a— a man. Holy shit— just— do it, be a man, please—

It took several nanosecond pep talks to bring Vera’s knee up to his chest, with a rest stop at the tree thing’s chin.

The tree thing’s excuse for a head was whipped back, sounding out a large crack.

Vera made a run for it. Out of that damn forest, heart screaming and crying as every part of him demanded more oxygen to use in being afraid. His veins’ blood boiled and thawed and refroze once more, all at once, but not exactly at the same time.

Get out of it. Get out.

His hand went to his face with a clean clap, making his cheek burn for a lingering while. Vera gulped down air, refusing to let himself be scared. Move. Go. Just run, but live. He lived. Survive.

Every breath took a while to get in. But they got in. At times, it seemed to Vera that there was nothing stopping him from having a heart that beat at that speed and intensity for the rest of his life.

It was a good sign that the tree thing didn’t follow him, however. Vera made it to a blue brazier, back in the friendly and warm company, all without seeing the tree thing leave from its domain.

…t-there wasn’t… anything there, anyways… I’ll just… I’ll never touch it…

He shook himself out.

T-the— what— the hell… w—was that… I-I— I f-froze…

A heavy topic to swallow.

…soft… s-still— t—too— s—s-sof—ft…

There was no time to think about it.

M-maybe the… pointy rocks will have something better…

Vera sat by the brazier for a while, taking a short moment to recover. He ate the last of his cheese, had a good amount of water, and worked away at the slowly staling loaf of bread he had brought with him. A few bites left him wiping away at the corners of his lips gently.

Weak… I’m weak… maybe I should’ve eaten more… I could’ve gone faster… maybe I’d be done… I wouldn’t have had all that sleep… I… could… I could do all of it, instantly… What did I do to myself…?

Though, nothing about his expression changed when wondering where he had gone wrong. It was still cold, fixated on a brazier far away.

He figured maybe it was unchanging because he already found out where he went wrong…

Too much sentiment. And emotion. I— I just gotta get back up. That was a fumble. A little mistake. Whoops. I’m— gonna— I’m gonna beat that thing’s ass…

…only if I need to. He added, safely reassuring that he was not going back to the forest unless he absolutely needed it. No other reason. He was not afraid. Just rusty. That’s it. Nothing else. No more. Nuh-uh. No way. Nope. No.

That made it sound like he was being sarcastic. He. Was. Not.

Soon, half of the loaf was finished. Vera felt terrible when he realized. Terrible, but so indescribable. He grabbed his wrist and pressed down on it in several areas. Nothing changed— he was still thin, which was good. Honestly, though, he forgot why he was trying to be thin in the first place.

Maybe it’s because I don’t deserve food. I don’t… but I need it to keep going, to give what everyone else deserves to them. What I couldn’t give… just… being a generally decent person.

…they… I know they deserve that much.

By how many times he was saying it, yes, everyone knew that. He knew it. By heart, even before saying this. Even before going on this. She—

Vera blinked. He— he rubbed his eyes. No. Too much. Too much thought. It was never justified. Lazy. Bad.

Just go. Just stand up and go.

Zipping up his bag, Vera slung it right back over his shoulder and sighed. Tracing his finger along the blue brazier, another deep breath was taken in.

Man, if I can go through one puzzle— that isn’t that stupid easy fire one— without crying like I just did, I’ll be— I dunno. The greatest greatest fighter. Ever. Better than Rhine. Not that I already am, though…

He made his way through little hops of stone, some crumbling as he left them, and over long jumps of abyss and void below. It was okay. It was good. Every time a rock suddenly shifted on him, however, his heart shifted, too.

Gods. It’s worse than I realized.

A hand ran through his bangs again, and he lifted his head and hardened his spirit. Nothing could hurt him. He would just bounce back.

Vera arrived at the pointy rocks, realizing the path up, in between, and through them was barely lit— and would be like navigating through the tight knit threads of a scarf. The best option was to now examine the choices and points he could make and hit.

Two braziers about… 6 jumps apart from me now, and from each other… okay, I might have to run… I can see the outline of those rocks, so I can definitely make my way over to those…

Still, the darkness would definitely get to him. There was a thought about torches and matches.

Torches. I could grab some wood— but I doubt it’ll last long. The forest is made of stone, so it barely matters. I have matches… they’re here with me now… m-maybe I could just use one. To get through this really quick. One, it doesn’t look long, and two, if the match needs to die, there’s always my own fire.

Vera, aware of the bag at his side, zipped it open and searched for the matches. The box hit his finger, and he grabbed onto it. Zipping up the bag and holding the matchbox like it was a precious stone or chocolate bar to some kid in the war, he took a few wary steps forward. A plan already formulated in his head. He could walk, or preferably, run, through the darkness until it crept up on him. Then strike and light the match— hopefully on the first try. The brazier wouldn’t be so far out of reach.

Got it.

He took a deep, long breath in.

Don’t get scared. Man up. Now’s your time to man up.

Then, he leapt onto a rock.

Quickly, spotting each rock’s outline, he maneuvered through the pointed, stalagmite and stalactite maze that surrounded him from all angles with great ease. All he had to do was forget about how loud his heart was beating over nothing.

As expected. The darkness came, slowly hovering its fingers over Vera’s eyes.

He stopped, leaned against a stalagmite, and held onto the box of matches. With some trouble seeing, he opened the matchbox, took a match out, pinched the box closed, and ran the match across the sandy side of its previous home. The match burst into flame.

Slowly, the darkness which laid its chilling hands on Vera resided.

Okay. Just gotta get the rest of this done quickly. Make most of the match…

Vera hopped through the rocks, speeding up and actually enjoying the rushes of adrenaline and his intense, extreme, and very uncommon heart palpitations. He was making great progress until a loud ringing in his ears exploded, and his vision washed over white in an instant. Doubling over, he thought he dropped the match. When he flung his head back up in a panic, he was in a completely different place.

It was like a white void— but with a thin wash of a mundane and grey light blue. The soft light diffused all shadow and evened all light.

There was someone barely even two meters in front of Vera. Familiar. It was his captain.

“C-CAPTAIN!!!” He suddenly screamed, with absolutely no idea he could get that loud or desperate. Barely conscious of anything— even the match in his hand, Vera immediately broke into a sprint and barged into the man he longed for.

“Vera!” Happy as ever, he laughed when Vera bumped into him, wrapping his hands around him. “Where’ve you been, boy?”

At this point— Vera didn’t know if he had died and somehow the Sea melted his consciousness into where Captain was, somewhere in his afterlife, or if this was just a terrible mirage.

But he could care less. His captain was here. He felt, sounded, acted, dressed, looked, and even smelled exactly how Vera remembered.

“I—I— C-Captain—“

He patted Vera’s back, leaning into the hug they now found themselves embracing. Awaiting Vera’s response, he ran a hand through the short ends of his hair.

“—I— m-m—“ Vera choked on his words and fumbled over the thoughts of not crying. “—mi—ssed—y-y—you—-“

“Me, too.” His captain responded. “You’ve finally cut your hair, eh?”

Vera pulled back, nodding wildly. It was okay if he thought that this was on purpose. Captain always asked about when he’d finally cut the tangled bush that was growing on his head. “Y-yeah, I did— I did, Captain—“

He laughed. “Good, good… how’ve you been?”

“N—n-not— not bad.” He lied again. “I missed you. B-but— I—I’m so— s-str—strong, now—“

“I always knew you’d be.” His captain replied, patting his shoulder with a strong look and with teasing force. “Y’know how we always said my ship would someday be yours.”

Vera held back all of his tears. He had to show Captain he was just as strong as he always knew he would be— just like he said. “Y-yeah— I—“

His captain cut him off short, wearing a solemn and sorrowful face. “But, Vera, y’know that none of this is real, don’t you, boy?”

…yeah…

“…y-yeah.” Vera nodded. “I know.”

Somehow, Vera was holding the match in between him and his captain, one arm still around him.

Oleander gave Vera a smile as bittersweet as 80% cacao dark chocolate, putting his fingertips over the curling, blackening and burning match. He pinched the ends and put out the flame.

He was back.

On the rocks in the dark.

Leaning on a stalactite, supported by stalagmites.

Vera’s eyes were wide. He thought they’d never close.

The darkness, creeping his hands over them, sought to help with that.

A burst of fire came from Vera’s hands. He was stuck between moving forward and trying to go back. The fire roared between his palms, and it overtook his ears. Though, it wasn’t long until the ringing came back.

Once again, he was in the white void. His captain was about three meters away.

Vera flicked the flames from his palms, ready to sprint—

—but he accidentally jumped in the real world, falling over a rock and bumping his head on the next step. He nearly tripped down into the depths below, but he was still grabbing, clinging onto the edge of the rock. Darkness crept up on his vision as he pulled himself onto the step, shooing it away with a fire he kept in his hands.

The ringing and white flash returned.

He was about four meters away.

Vera took his fire and ran, but was too tired to keep up the fire, so it died out.

He was now on another rock, nearly crumbling off. But he was safe— at least from the possibility of falling. It was time for more fire, he knew, as the darkness returned.

The fire brought the ringing. It brought the flash. It brought his captain five meters away. It brought great fatigue, it brought the real world, and it brought the urge to try again. More fire. Vera opened his hands up to more fire.

Again. Again. Again. Again.

He was about six meters away.

He was about seven meters away.

He was about eight meters away.

He was about nine meters away.

“D—DON’T GO!”

He was about ten meters away.

He was about eleven meters away.

He was about twelve meters away.

He was about thirteen meters away.

He was about fourteen meters away.

“—C-CAPTAIN!!!”

He was about fifteen meters away.

He was about sixteen meters away.

He was about seventeen meters away.

He was about eighteen meters away.

He was about nineteen meters away.

He was about twenty meters away.

“NO! NO— NO— NO!!”

He was about twenty one meters away.

He was about twenty two meters away.

He was about twenty three meters away.

He was about twenty four meters away.

He was about twenty five meters away.

He was about twenty six meters away.

“J—JUST A MINUTE! W—“

He was about twenty seven meters away.

He was about twenty eight meters away.

He was about twenty nine meters away.

He was about thirty meters away.

He was about thirty one meters away.

He was about thirty two meters away.

He was about thirty three meters away.

“STOP!!! CAPTAIN!!!”

Vera exhausted out his fire. He couldn’t make even a single spark. Clutching his hands, choking them like they had more to give but weren’t giving it, Vera sucked air in through gritted teeth and heaved and wheezed every time he did.

The hands of darkness made their way over his eyes.

Rage built up inside of Vera now. He gasped so violently he swore it popped his lungs, then fell to his knees. In a last show of strength, his body decided to burst into flame and warded off the darkness again.

Every cell in Vera’s now burning body told him to get the hell out of here. To run. The ringing was back in his ears, and his own words reverberated back at him. His brain fogged the more his ears rang, dizzying him and causing a blizzard in his vision. Everything went to mush and shit as Vera struggled to get back up, seeing red dots appear like ripening bullet holes in a soft stomach. Because of this, it was hard to not trip over more bits of rocks, and he crashed into stalactites and stalagmites alike. He couldn’t listen to a single thought, nor did he want to.

He was just a burning, crashing man, running away from a problem— all his problems— like he always did.

Vera stopped at the blue brazier, grabbing onto its rim and folding over it. He couldn’t even tell he was looking into the fire, but it surely looked into him.

Wishing he was back at the elevator, hiding away, Vera dipped his head into the blue fire— and appeared at the brazier next to the elevator once he bobbed it back out.

Yes. Elevator. The elevator. He dragged himself up from the ground and ran into it. He pulled the door shut from behind him, tossing his bag, slightly toasted, onto the floor. Finally, he laid onto a bench and curled to face the wall.

Here, he could finally hear his thoughts, emerging from all instinct and adrenaline.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Please. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

It had been repeating over and over. He had been repeating it over and over and over again. The entire time, from seeing Captain— even earlier— his brain screamed at itself without him knowing.

He couldn’t feel anything except for the heat that surrounded him.

If he was crying, he was still burning— so all his tears were gone. But his eyes were dry. They were so dry, and he wasn’t crying. He wasn’t even close to crying. There was nothing in him but pure, unbridled spite and animosity.

With another shaking gasp for air, Vera burned even hotter, his violent flames growing more vigorous.

He curled up closer to himself. He, like ashen wood, withered himself.

Cruel, he thought, but fitting. To wave his captain, alive and well, warm and moving, in front of his dismayed face. Taunting him with a dead man he loved so dearly, using the image of the greatest person he’d ever had the pleasure of knowing as a mere tool. Something to screw with him. It was evil. It was unfair. It was fake, and he knew it. It was tempting. It was a trick. It was toying with his captain to toy with him. It was evil. Unfair. It was terrible. It was horrendous. It was so shameful. He was so shameful. He couldn’t do anything right. He hated it. It hurt him so bad. But he deserved all of it.

He couldn’t help but think he really did sign up to change himself. Occasionally, he doubted that he could get 158– in secret, deep in his consciousness, and so frequently in the— what, 5 days— he had been on this journey. But there was no doubt he could change. With or without Code 158. He was changing. Something inside of him was changing.

It was like a gross chrysalis, icky and full of blood and dirt. Weathered by the elements, it would come out a monster— it would come out horrendous. It would bloom late, it would grow to be small. That was what he thought he must be changing into.

All it took was one mirror smash, one or two indulgences in food or sleep, a few moments to remind him that he was completely broken already, some memories, and one full minute with his captain to make him this way. To poison the process.

…yes, he was broken… so broken… so old when he was so young. None of this just happened— none of it appeared out of nowhere. From the beginning, he was truly, utterly, completely, sheerly broken. And this mission was like the bag that held all the pieces, and his world was like the hand that shook them. It didn’t happen out of nowhere. It didn’t take so little to break him. He was already broken. He had been broken. Vera, all this time, was broken.

And he tried to change. And he tried to fix it. And he tried to make it better. And he tried to cure himself.

But he was trying to cure himself like a normal person. He was trying to cure himself without knowing his condition.

It wasn’t fiery anger issues.

He was broken.

A tear would’ve bubbled up in his eye if he could cry. If he hadn’t forced the tears back down into him. If he hadn’t bottled it up and felt nothing except pure exhaustion.

He was broken.

He couldn’t think.

He was too broken.

He tried to fix it, he tried to be better— he tried to scream, but nothing could bring him to scream.

Little by little, he tucked his knees so close to his chest that they might’ve become one, and he covered his ears, burying his head deep within the ball he had turned himself into.

He could hear cannons, and he flinched every time he did.

The world was scary.

He was broken.

But now he had to keep going.

He wasn’t going to go back— no one would understand. He still had to be strong, but they all thought he was just an angry, moody teenager. There was so much more. It hurt so badly that they never understood that— it hurt so badly that that was all they understood.

He tried. He tried.

So many times. He was trying, but they never knew.

They always yelled at him for trying. Because he wasn’t trying— to them.

He worked so hard to be okay. He worked so hard to get even an ‘F’ in being a decent person.

There was always something he did wrong. Always something someone blamed him for. Always something he got wrong, or didn’t do right.

How? How could he do better than his best?

He tried.

He tried his hardest.

And he was trying even harder now.

All it got him was a worse condition, starvation, realizing he wasn’t good enough for even anything— not even good enough to live.

He would’ve killed himself, really.

He would’ve killed himself if he knew he could leave without making anyone feel like they deserved more from being around him.

They deserved to feel nothing but happiness around him. But they never got that.

That’s why he couldn’t kill himself yet.

When the pain of conformity became too great, his new self would die. And with it, he would die.

That was the goal.  

Change for everyone.

Make them get what they deserve.

Kindness from you.

And then, once your time is done, die.

He still had to change.

Get Code 158. Get Code 130. Navigate to Code 777. Get into the Heart Locket.

Four simple steps left.

Four.

He hated himself.

It took only four, but he knew that now— he was going to stay here forever.

He withered under his hands, covering his head, slowly dying.

He wouldn’t leave. He was going to stay here, eat selfishly, drink selfishly, smoke selfishly, be so selfish— be not good enough for any of it— and then, once he felt more than less than, he would pick up.

And he would go to the rocks again. And he would see Captain again. And he would come back, wallow away, die, sweat, drink, eat, smoke, burn away, wither away, and go back.

And do it.

He had to do it.

To give them what they deserved.

Just— first— he had to stay here.

…

…

…

…just for a little while…

***

Step 7: Just Kidding! There Isn’t Even an Allen Wrench in a Bag Labeled ‘R’! Now You and Your Sorry Ass Are Gonna Go Take Out the Damn Parts From the Box Labeled ‘A’

Vera spent a week trying to get past the rocks.

So, instead, he took some time in the mineshaft.

Still shaken from the previous attempts (at that time, the first, most impactful try had been succeeded by two others before Vera decided to make better use of his time), he made his way over to the mineshaft, hopping over the same dismal voids and landing on rocks that sprouted up from them like forsaken flowers.

The inside of the mineshaft was nothing unique. It was just cramped, humid and suffocating. Just like a regular mineshaft. There were tracks for carts of ore, arches to hold up the man-made caverns, oil-lit lanterns on the walls, and a few rusted, tattered and bent pickaxes lying around the walls.

Vera didn’t know where to go, so he explored— and didn’t even bother to mark his way back. He substituted for counting the pickaxes around him, or just the sheer promise that he wasn’t going to make it out of this place alive, anyways. After going through a few of the tunnels, he spotted an opened out room. It was much bigger than the others— and inside, it held carvings on the wall.

They glowed a fiery blue, reminding Vera of the friendly braziers, and slowly morphed into decipherable words.

Evil was slain in the spring.

He glared at the words. Whipping out his notebook, he grabbed his pen and flipped through the used pages. They still held his notes on the light puzzle. He glanced back and forth at the words on the stone wall, writing them down. Evil was slain in the spring. Good. Fine.

Vera made his way out of the room, exploring the dripping tunnels again. He glanced around, feeling as if the walls of them were already getting smaller. Slowly but surely, he navigated to another room, where he found similar writings on the wall. They blurred into words he could make sense of.

The dragon sleeps in the cave during winter.

This was promptly written down as well.

Seasons were now sure to appear in some or all of the future sidings he saw. Vera put them together in his mind.

If one was starting from the new year, winter would be the first season. Then spring. The dragon sleeps in the cave during winter, and evil was slain in the spring. Did the dragon wake up, and was slain? Was the dragon evil?

Vera was sure this was a sort of story he had to piece together, and he thought of how it could end as he walked through the halls.

Slowly, he noticed the tunnels were dipping down. Since this place was already dripping wet, he had the feeling he’d be waist-deep in water again. And he was proved right. As the water slowly washed in, Vera’s shoes were covered. Then his ankles. Then his shins, his knees, and his thighs— the water slowly crawled up to his waist and beyond. Vera pulled his bag up, then adjusted the straps to hug his upper body tighter once he realized that the water wasn’t going to end anytime soon, and that holding it up with his hands wasn’t going to last forever.

Now it was hard to walk. He slowed down, but exerted more energy— still making his way through the waters. At least he knew that he had to get away from water if he wanted to leave, or to see new things. It slowly became dark as the lights lit out, which let Vera add to his list of ‘avoid if you want to see the exit again’.

He squinted his eyes, slowly adjusting them to the light. Holding out a fire would do him no good. If he wanted to keep it up, then he would need a big flame— but to keep it up would take a lot of energy he was already losing from spending on trudging through water.

But fire became less of an option and more of a requirement as the darkness returned to his vision. He kept a decent flame up, cupping the bottom with his hands, while making sure he had easy access to food if he needed it. Speaking of food, he wondered how long it would hold. He still had his soup, beef jerky, crackers, water and more left.

He let the flame go with one hand, rummaged through the bag with it, and took out his water. Holding it by the top, he unscrewed the plastic top with his thumb, and took a sip of water. It was water, alright.

Finally, the undrinkable, dirty, obstacle of water gnawing at Vera’s feet slowly drained. It guided him to a large room, where he knew he would find some carvings. He did, in fact, and he found two.

They read:

The still water bubbled with fury.

The heart burned in the summer heat.

Vera flailed his hands out at his sides, shaking out the fire. He took out the notebook and wrote down the two sentences by the blue glow they gave off. The darkness hadn’t come for him yet when he took his fire out again, which he thought must have meant he was a quick writer. Or that he was scared into speed. Or that the glow was enough to handle it and hold down the fort of darkness.

Whatever it was— he had more bits to the story. He still needed ‘fall’.

The dragon sleeps in the cave during winter. Evil was slain in the spring. The heart burned in the summer heat… and the still water bubbled with fury. He didn’t know where to place that last one— but he was sure that he would figure it out.

Vera saw a few exits, so he picked the one that looked like it held the most light and walked through it. It was a good choice, as the oil-lit lanterns slowly came back to him, guiding his way like the sacred stars he’d learnt to navigate by.

He wasn’t gonna start thinking about Captain, by the way.

…by saying that, however, he had.

Never mind. Work to be done.

The water finally drained all the way out, and Vera walked into the dryer part of the cave. It took him a while to notice a change— pickaxes were gone, tracks and carts disappeared and died out, and ores began to show. They were clear, pristine, blue like the glow of a toaster’s ‘bagel’ button crystals, and they made Vera wonder if everything important in this place was going to be blue.

Of course, that excluded him.

Vines began to trickle into the mineshaft tunnels, which started to look less hollowed out by destructive hands, and more like waved through by a mother of nature. The tunnels were uneven, rocky, crystalline and beautiful, and soon— enveloped in greens.

Vera, suspicious, bit into a leaf that was close enough to tickle him. He bit into it to test out the credibility of an actual plant growing here, but didn’t know why he couldn’t have just ripped it with his fingers. Either way, it was real— and it tasted like shit. Vera chewed on it for a bit, hoping it would taste less like shit. It did not. This was the sole reason why Vera would never become a vegetarian.

Vegetation bloomed harder than ever as he walked forth, and the crystals were soon surrounded by verdant (Vera cringed bittersweetly), lush and deep green vines. There was definitely going to be an open room soon.

And that there was. Probably the largest open room, since Vera assumed it wasn’t manmade, meaning it was hollowed out by pure nature. We’ve already gone over how manly and connected to nature Vera was, so he has credible words and facts according to this. Things were naturally big if nature made them. Weird topic. Let’s get off of it. Okay now describing the room.

It was full of lush grass and a deep, dark grey of rocks. Crystals seemed to sprout out anywhere without a care, healthy moss covered rocks and the ground, duckweed crunched under Vera’s feet, and a glistening waterfall ran cold and clear water through the cave, cascading into chilly, bubbling sparkles, winding down into a river that flaunted lotus flowers and lily pads.

Vera glanced around, assuming no one would mind if he took a sip of the water. It looked clean enough— it looked pristine, actually— and he wanted to drink something cold, anyways. All his water was lukewarm from his body heat.

The best place was where the water cascaded down into the river. That way, the bubbles would ripple his reflection out of the water— and he also always had the idea that the bubbling water was the cleanest.

He made his way to the edge of the river, got onto his knees, put away his notepad and pen, cupped some water into his hands, and had a little drink. The water was crisp, cold, and just right. Vera thought he could drink it forever. But there were things to be done…

Just in case, he took his bottle of water, drank the remainder, and filled it up again. He would do it for the rest of his water bottles if they were empty. He never wasted any food, even water.

After his quick break, Vera stood up, putting his water bottle away, and looked around the room for more carvings. He spotted one.

The broken boat docked at the shore.

Wow. How fitting. Vera now felt called out as he took his notepad and pen from the duffel bag, jotting down the sentence.

He took a few more glances around, exploring the lush cave. There were only rocks and greens. Not even a single bug. That was lame. Despite this, his heart fluttered with what remained of excitement inside of him when he saw vines crawling all over a wall of carvings. It was still perfectly visible, and Vera didn’t want to slash away at vines if he didn’t need to, so he read them out with a little more effort than he would normally put into reading.

The watcher searched the lands.

He felt slightly called out again. It reminded him of QD. While copying the sentence into his notepad, he took about ten seconds to scribble a little doodle of QD beside it. He missed her. But in the way a soldier at war would for his wife— because that was manly.

There was still more of the room of greenery to explore. Vera made it through a thick wall of vines that hung from the ceiling, into a suffocatingly healthy room of nature. In here, a babbling brook splashed and rang out its song, and bright flowers bloomed and danced to it, hanging around crystals like spores hung around rot.

Another carving caught Vera’s eye and attention, but it was much harder to see than the last. Covered and littered with leaves, vines and moss, the carving taunted Vera as he slowly read it out.

In the vault, secrets were kept.

…Great. Was there gonna be nothing about fall? It was one of Vera’s favorite seasons… so that was unfortunate. Still, this carving was scribbled into Vera’s notepad.

He tried to organize the ones he had so far into a comprehensive order.

The dragon sleeps in the cave during the winter. Evil was slain in the spring. The heart burned in the summer heat. The watcher searched the lands. The broken boat docked at the shore. The still water bubbled with fury. In the vault, secrets were kept.

Winter, spring, summer, then fall— if there was any fall. Vera tried to connect the odd meaning ones into a concise story as he searched the cave even further, poking and prodding at anything he found to be of interest.

It felt a little selfish, but he tried to tie the bits of sentences he was given into a story that reminded himself about him. Reasonable, he figured, even if a little egotistical. This area in the Deep Down was surely modeled off of his consciousness, as the challenges in it usually were— but— not his conscious. They of the challenger’s conscious. That’s how that worked.

The ‘heart’ reminded him of the Heart Locket. So, that was going in the end— or somewhere around it. He still believed that the fall sentence, wherever it was, would come last.

The still water… it reminded him of his reflection, as it bubbled with fury. The water was obviously QD. The boat one… Captain. Why wouldn’t it be? Secrets in the vault must’ve been something about how Ammi kept secrets, since he thought about it more often than he realized he did.

What did the dragon one mean? Slept in the cave during winter… winter was usually a time of hardship. ‘Slept in the cave’ reminded him of how he… hid away in his room. When things got hard. That was what he came to the conclusion of.

Evil was slain in the spring— spring was before summer. It was after the winter.

He stayed at home— then went to the Heart Locket. In between, he… would kill his old self. He would change. His old self was evil, so if he slayed the evil, he would be at the Heart Locket. Winter, spring, summer. In between, now…

He thought of Captain a lot during his three weeks of hiding away. The dragon slept in the cave during winter, the broken boat docked at the shore. That was good. The still water bubbled with fury… that could also be before ‘evil was slain in the spring’.

The dragon slept in the cave during winter, the broken boat docked at the shore, the still water bubbled with fury.

Vera jotted the order down. That seemed reasonable.

The watcher searched the lands… after Vera got Code 214 and the driver, he found out QD was chasing him. That was definitely before slaying his evil self.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the alternate, slang meaning of ‘slay’, on a side note. It was killing him.

Then there was ‘in the vault, secrets were kept’. He was looking for the Code’s secrets before he’d left, and they were kept pretty easily. In a library, too, which was like a vault. That was before he left, obviously, like he’d said, so that was before the watcher sentence.

The dragon slept in the cave during winter, the broken boat docked at the shore, the still water bubbled with fury, in the vault, secrets were kept, the water searched the lands…

It began to sound like a ratio. Not the mathematical type. More slang… yikes…

While thinking, Vera finally came across a carving. He hoped it was the last one. As he read it, he jotted it down.

In autumn, the bear prepared for hibernation.

Vera thought this could be like him preparing for his journey. However, he wanted to stick with his seasons-in-order theme, so he had to find out how to fit it in. Maybe once he went back, after fixing himself, he would then prepare to slowly wither away, falling into eternal sleep as his new self took over.

Or something like that.

It occurred to Vera that he could be very, very, very wrong with his entire thought process. Maybe there were a thousand more hints he needed to find— but he hadn’t found any of them yet. Whatever this train of thought stationed itself at, Vera was going to go with. He couldn’t care less at this point.

Now, just to order it out. It left a little unreasonable that all the non-season sentences were all bunched together, but he figured it was because he wasn’t allowed to learn the actual details of the future of his journey. He was only allowed to know that he succeeded— or, on the contrary, he was only allowed to see the future he wanted to see. He didn’t know how it would span out, but he had a vision for it, and that’s what he figured this followed.

Great. Now to put it all together.

The dragon slept in the cave during winter, the broken boat docked at the shore, the still water bubbled with fury, in the vault, secrets were kept, the water searched the lands, evil was slain in the spring, the heart burned in the summer, and in autumn, the bear prepared for hibernation.

…

Did he have to say it out loud? Really?

Vera knew he would hate to hear the sound of his voice at a time like this.

He glanced around, as if anyone would hear him— as if anyone would recall his echo through the cave.

…

“…The dragon slept in the cave during winter, the broken boat docked at the shore, the still water bubbled with fury, in the vault, secrets were kept, the water searched the lands, evil was slain in the spring, the heart burned in the summer, and in autumn, the bear prepared for hibernation.” He recited from looking at the ordered sentences on his notes, turning his head up and looking around to see if anyone heard him. Of course, there wouldn’t be anyone— unless you counted a thing from behind a tree, or a monster in the water, even though there seemed to be nothing of that sort in here. It would be fitting and rightfully scary however.

Vera waited. He waited and waited.

Maybe recite it? Say it backwards? Did he put it in the wrong order? He was wrong, wasn’t he?

“…The dragon slept in the cave during winter, the broken boat docked at the shore, the still water bubbled with fury, in the vault, secrets were kept, the water searched the lands, evil was slain in the spring, the heart burned in the summer, and in autumn, the bear prepared for hibernation??”

Nope. Was he wrong, really? Yeah, yeah, he was for sure— he definitely messed up.

He doubted himself again and again, telling himself that this was normal Vera behavior, being wrong and stupid and dumb— but then he noticed a blue brazier below him. He didn’t know how he hadn’t seen it earlier.

Pleasantly surprised, he looked into it. He saw a little glimmer, then reached for it as he controlled the fire around him— and tapped it. It turned out to be an orb, and it whizzed away from under his fingers, over to the gate, he assumed.

Vera sighed, relieved. He put away his notepad and pen, then teleported to the rocks through the brazier.

Time to try these stupid things again.

***

Vera did not make any progress.

He tried his hardest to get through those rocks, tried his hardest to find a hidden orb somewhere, desperately banging on the tall, stone gate that only needed one more left to open.

He tried.

There was nothing he could do but go through the rocks.

The last orb had to be there.

Those stupid rocks that made him hallucinate his captain.

He probably hated them more than he hated himself, but he doubted that there was anyone or anything he hated more than that.

So, he kept trying. Over and over and over again, failing, returning to the rocks, returning to the elevator, screaming at himself in his head and making deals and slowly losing it. He went insane. Try, try, try, try, try, try, try again, and have nothing work. He just kept running through the same path, always trying his best to get to the next brazier, bailing and making his distance from it until he found it fit to get up, and tried again.

Since then, he had eaten lots of food, slept excessively, and stared off into space. He’d given up on rewriting his already outdated suicide note. Just to pass some time, he usually went around and searched for ways to get through the door— which required a single orb left (he knew it would be from the rocks— wait, didn’t he say this before? Hm.)— but never found an exit. He hung around near the blue braziers a ton, which he knew were also a means of teleportation for him, leading him to use them often. He felt that he hadn’t explained it before. If there was nothing else to do and he was inches away from slitting his own throat, he busied his hands with combing out his hair, applying truckloads of lotion to unwrapped skin, counting the scars on his shins, and with using the facial wipes he brought to clean himself up a little bit.

Sometimes, when he slept, he thought about his captain. But not for long. He was gone— he had been gone— and… there was… no point. In thinking about him at all…

…for the most part, however, he tried to navigate the rocks. He needed to spend all of his time on it. Each time with a much more considerable amount of anger and an extremely different motivation, but stacked upon the last one.

I’ll do it for them.

I’ll do it to prove I’m strong.

I’ll do it because QD’s coming soon.

I’ll do it because it’s the only thing I can do.

I’ll do it to spite everyone.

I’ll do it because that’s how I’ll get out.

I’ll do it because it’s better than suicide.

Each time, it worked… but each time, he simply ran back.

It was just torture. He deserved it— but he still needed to get it out. Each time, he was given painful reminders of what he’d lost. Captain, teaching him how to use the stars for navigation. QD and him, talking about the various fruits they’d picked up from the Monkey’s Paw, the others, just being themselves… Captain, complimenting him on a new skill— Captain, telling him that one day, the ship would be his— Captain, commenting that Vera seemed to be stealing his personality from right under his nose, becoming the very image of him— Captain, who once had greeted him by snatching him from behind, picking him up in the air, and twirling with him in laughter— Captain, running a hand over Vera’s back as they sat alone, on deck, in the moonlight, as Vera cried— Captain, ruffling his hair and laughing heartily— Captain, teaching him everything he knew and everything he would know— Captain, telling everyone that they’d better make sure they said good morning and good night every night and day to Vera, who had been recovering from a nasty injury— Captain, being the father he’d been gone from— Captain, teaching him how to trust again— Captain, making sure that… he never went hungry again. Making sure that he never had to struggle for a basic need again.

He had been his captain and so, so much more. Captain Oleander. The greatest man he’d ever known.

And it was all hitting him— everything he repressed and hid, pretending it didn’t exist so it wouldn’t hurt him— all at once.

So many beautiful memories. So many sorrowful memories. So many thoughts. So many days spent with a dead man. So many days spent with a handful of dead people. Not nearly as many as he should spend with the only one alive.

He couldn’t protect her… he was weak…

But that was why he had to change… he— he had to change. He had to.

That’s why he kept going. For everyone. For her. For everything.

That was it.

Change was inevitable, he knew. No change was without suffering, he knew.

So he kept trying.

For about his thirty fourth time, Vera tried again, once more wildly trashing and crashing into rocks and getting little cuts and bruises. Fire on, fire off. Consumed by darkness and not. Once again, he had to go. He bailed. Every time he tried all from the beginning, all over again, he felt even more hurt than before. His heart ached every time he saw another memory in his mind, from the reminders the darkness gave him. It was always a burning reminder, he always grew angrier and angrier until it became fuel for the fire inside him with nothing being left— but at times, he was silent. Nothing in him stirred. It was just sad. That was how he could put it.

That Authority ship— what did they even want?

It just felt like a sort of tragedy.

It… was, if Vera wasn’t still on about not caring.

But he was. In his unconscious thought— which was now dominant, as he’d stopped thinking consciously since he first went through these rocks— he didn’t care. He was too strong. He was still denying it. He was normal. He was okay. He was never broken.

Once more, looming over the blue fire of the brazier, he cleansed his mind. He focused on nothing. There was nothing.

But once or twice, a memory passed through his mind.

…

He thought of one— just once. Just to remember what he was fighting for.

…He had been crying, leaning onto Captain’s shoulder as he held him, wiping his tears on his sleeve.

‘I— I was just a kid… y’know…?’

His captain put a hand on Vera’s head, slowly running his fingers through his hair. ‘Aye. It’s sad to see it.’

‘I… know…’ Vera sniffled, feeling terrible that he was pouring his heart out. But he had been asked to. ‘…I was… so hungry…’

‘Hmmm.’ Captain nodded slowly, pulling Vera’s head down into his lap.

Vera, with tired and glazed over eyes, looked up at him. ‘…it hurts your stomach so bad…’

He nodded again.

‘It feels like it’s eating itself…’

His captain made a soured face.

‘…and that’s why… I…’

Vera grimaced, covering his face. He was ashamed to admit it.

‘It’s okay. You don’t have to keep goin’ if you can’t handle it.’

‘B-but—‘ he wanted to get it out, pulling his hands from his face. ‘—I… I need to… I— unlike him— I trust you… I don’t think you’d see me any differently if I… told you.’

Captain chuckled. ‘Oh, don’t be so certain…’

‘R—really?’

‘Of course not!’ He laughed again, ruffling Vera’s hair lovingly. ‘You’re still welcome here no matter what, my boy.’

My boy. Vera tightened his eyes closed, covering his face once more. His cheeks went hot and warm tears came to his eyes. ‘…th—thank you— too— he always said I was a girl.’

His captain chuckled again. He rested a hand on Vera’s forehead.

Now, Vera escaped from the hands he’d covered himself with. ‘I—I—… y—you won’t judge?’

‘Does the Duke fight with a sword?’

Vera’s face squished into a mix of nervousness, anxiety, happiness and the face people make when they remember something they’d make weird noises to forget. He slowly mustered up his courage. ‘—okay… ok—ay—… I— I killed him.’

His captain nodded slowly.

‘And then I ate him.’

‘—kkkkkt??— I— err—‘

Vera looked up at his captain, now feeling totally judged. ‘I—I’m sorry— b-but—‘ he sat up, already brushing off the dust on himself and getting ready to leave. ‘—sorry—‘

‘No, Vera, come back.’

He managed to take Vera’s hand before he left.

Vera turned back to him. He was about to start crying again.

Captain looked like it was difficult to find his words. ‘…you did what you had to do. What else was there left, eh?’

Vera looked down.

‘If anything, I’d say— those are some— er— interestin’ survival tactics. They worked, though.’

‘I— I guess so…’

He laughed again, pulling Vera’s arm back down gently to get him sitting back down again. He put a hand on Vera’s forehead once more, a motion for him to sit down. ‘It’s okay. You’re just a kid. Good that you got yerself outta there, too. Just in time to join my crew.’ Captain grinned back down at him.

Vera blinked with a plain face. It scrunched up again, and he covered it. He turned into his captain’s stomach and sobbed.

‘There, Vera… you’re safe…’

He clutched onto his shirt, crying like it was his last chance to ever cry again. He cried like the world was ending that night.

They said nothing more for a while. Captain was calming Vera down with pats on his shoulder, back, and running his hands through his messy hair. Meanwhile, Vera kept sobbing, making pained noises and pulling on his captain’s shirt.

After a while, Vera was sat up by his captain. He rested his head on his chest, closing his eyes and softly whimpering.

Then, Oleander put his hand on Vera’s forehead, pushed his bangs back, and gave him a small kiss, just like a father would.

‘I’ll make sure you never go hungry again.’

Vera couldn’t help it. He never wanted to be hungry again. He went back to uncontrollable sobbing.

The next morning, Captain made Vera wake up the earliest— and he showed him the big breakfast that he’d made for the both of them. Vera cried and hugged him again, giving him all his thanks. His captain simply chuckled bittersweetly, patting his back again and asking when they’d start to eat.

And then, weeks later, he woke up early. He did the usual routine, sparred with the others, won…

Then he went into the lower deck, found his captain and QD going over the same training as they always had, and giggled at the attempts.

He showed QD how it was done, and he teased her. His captain laughed.

And he said he would teach her how to parry. They worked on her timing, her reaction speed…

They went up to the deck, and QD displayed the best show of her silver tongue that had ever been witnessed.

It was quiet for a while.

Until Captain spotted something off in the distance, tried to say something—

And then the ship sank.

And so did his captain.

Vera was still looking deep into the fire. He dipped his head inside, and brought himself to the elevator.

Exhausted, just like he had been for a week straight, Vera trudged back into the elevator. The bench was waiting for him, and he gladly welcomed the wait. He fell back onto it, curling up into the same spot he had slowly melted away when he’d first arrived.

He felt nothing. He was just here. Existing— not for so long and not for long— but existing nonetheless.

“…Captain… you said I’d never be hungry again. I’m hungry.” Vera spoke dryly to the air. This was his new way of thinking. He spoke. “…I’m so hungry. I need you. I miss you. I’m just a kid. I can’t go on without you. Or QD— or anyone else. I’m useless. But I have to do this. You always thought I was strong, didn’t you? Do you still think so?” his already suffering, raspy voice croaked and split. “—d-do you believe I can change everything?”

His captain had been dead for a good while.

“…Captain… I’m hungry…”

Vera’s wide eyes stared off, far off, beyond the elevator and the stone that surrounded it.

“You believe in me, don’t you, Captain? You believe in me…”

What would he say?

I do, Vera, I believe in you.

Vera, go home. Don’t hurt yerself anymore.

Vera, you’re a fine boy just the way you are. You don’t need to change for anyone.

It’s time to let go, Vera.

Accept this, Vera, or you’ll be stuck here.

No, Vera, you’ll never be hungry again.

Vera, you’re the strongest kid I’ve ever lain my damn eyes on.

You’ll get outta here, Vera— I just know you will.

Vera rubbed his eyes. He looked down into his body, curled up over him. His skin… rough. He eyed his shins.

He hadn’t really thought about him, hadn’t he…?

That was when it started, though. When Vera was a little boy, he picked him up, and took him with him.

He was… a failure of a father, simply put. He saw a kid and thought he could make him work for him.

Only— he never thought he was a boy, which angered Vera. But could he do anything against his father? No. Not until he’d had enough.

Being just a kid, there was so much room for error. Especially starting off in the real world, full of such dangers and the constant struggle to survive. Even one mistake proved to be fatal— and his father had taught him to never make mistakes again. Hence his shins.

Vera hid in his face from no one but his own shame and embarrassment.

Nevertheless, he ran through the story.

His father hit him and starved him while they were already terribly beat up by the world as it was. One day, Vera was so hungry but fed well by his father’s bullshit that he snapped and looked for some real food. However, there was none to be found— except for the big bag of meat and person he called his father.

So he killed him. And ate him. And he tasted sour, and there wasn’t much of him— well, much he knew how to get to, which he efficiently learnt how to do when applying the same tactic after being stranded in the mountains with nothing but idiots from the Ministry surrounding him— but Vera wasn’t hungry anymore. He learnt how to grow up, twelve years old, and survived as a tiny, puny thing, who knew nothing about his own identity except for his name, age, and that he wanted to be a young boy instead of a young girl.

…he couldn’t remember his birthday, either. That’s why QD had usually celebrated it during March for him. That was about how close it would get.

She told him that instead of one day he got to celebrate being born, he had a whole thirty one days. And she would love to celebrate every day of it with him.

…either way… he grew. He grew up. He made it to Oleander and QD, and he never looked back.

From those days, he never looked back.

Until now, where he needed to look back to fix himself, and it was just hurting him.

He bottled it all up and put it aside. He put it away. He hid it away. And he was unbottling it, trying to change, and all that was happening was a spill. A spill of nasty, terrible, old, genuinely— just— saddening— stuff all breaking free. In his chrysalis. While he was trying to change.

It was difficult. He ran a hand through his bangs. It wasn’t the same as when Captain did it.

That was it. Vera slowly stood up, resting at the end of the bench like a tired, old dad. He sighed. Try number… Thirty five. Vera reached into the bag, counted maybe less than another week’s worth of food left, and took a little sip from his bottle of soup. It proved to be a good decision after all. He didn’t need much.

A little less tired, he walked to the blue brazier outside, hung around it and energized himself, then teleported to the brazier next to the rocks.

The rocks. The rocks. They just became ‘the rocks’ after all of this time he’d spent on them.

This time will be it. He’d make it past.

If he was thrown back into spirals of memories, he would take them. He would take every memory he’d been given and keep moving forward.

But he would refuse to accept any of it. He would pretend it wasn’t even there. Pretend it never happened. Vera never had a captain, nor did he have a father, and QD— she was just someone he happened to take an interest to. None of it happened. He was never beaten gruesomely, he was never treated like a real person— only to have it be ripped from him, and he was never deeply loved by anyone he could make a great connection to.

All he was was a lazy, stupid, ugly, fat bitch who pretended to have problems so he could lash out at people whenever he felt like it. There was nothing else going on. He was just a bad person. He was just hateable. He hated everything about himself— because it was all his own doing. Nothing ever happened to him. He did this to himself.

He didn’t have problems.

He just had to be a man, now— and ignore the lies he kept creating for himself. There was no excuse. There was no excuse. There was no excuse. 

Stop making excuses.

Be. A. Man.

Like you’ve been telling yourself to be.

Vera stood up, but stood still, at the brazier.

Yes, he wasn’t changing to avoid his problems and give people the love they deserved from him. He was only doing it for the latter. He realized his mistakes, and, like a man, was going to fix them without question.

He had no problems with anything but himself.

In fact— he loved to list those problems.

He loved it because it reminded him that all there was in this world for him was himself— the ugly, messy, piece of shit that he called himself— and that he could point out insecurities of and laugh at. Because he thought he deserved nothing better.

I hate his face. I hate his body. I hate the way he speaks. I hate the way he thinks. I hate how he can never say sorry. I hate how he keeps making stupid excuses. I hate his style. I hate the music he listens to. I hate the food he likes. I hate the things he likes to do. I hate his stupid hair. I hate him and his captain. I hate him and his girlfriend. I hate his thoughts. I hate his crimes. I hate his skills. I hate how he feels so lonely when he has so many friends. I hate his body— I really do, I hate it— I hate his attunements, even the one he never uses— I hate his pity for himself, I hate his tendency to never do what he promises he’ll do, I hate his confusion over his own identity, I hate every emotion he feels, I hate how he makes stupid jokes so people can laugh with him— or at him, it doesn’t matter— I hate how he plays the piano, I hate how he loves the smell of flowers, I hate how he sometimes laughs a little too hard, I hate how he clasps a hand on your back with a smile, I hate how he’ll listen to all your problems and genuinely care about you, I hate how he’ll stay up for hours to make sure you’re okay, I hate how he finds the rain and snow beautiful, I hate how he’ll warm your cold hands or cool down your burning forehead, I hate how he takes people out to his favorite places, so excited to spend time with them, I hate how he knows how to dance and taught the person he holds dearest how to dance with him, I hate how he sometimes draws little scribbles and his favorite video game characters even when he isn’t good at it, I hate how he’ll stick with you no matter what’s going on, what happened, how you feel, how you treat him, how difficult it is, or what he’s sticking with you for, I hate how he constantly hates himself as if there was never anything good about him in the first place, I hate how he hates himself at all— I hate Vera Isket.

…and he was going to change that. All of that.

He ran a hand through his bangs, eyeing the terrible rocks. He had to make it through them.

Again, he clutched onto his bag, then ran through the rocks. It became something like a routine— the only thing that changed about it every time it was run through was his fear and his accuracy, which both increased.

The darkness came around again, and he closed his palms together, pressing them out to make fire. He held it out in his hands as he prepared himself for that fated ringing and white flash.

“—and soon, you and I’ll be sailing all across each luminant! We’re gonna be the best team there is!”

Vera quietly put out the fire, then continued forth. The darkness shortly came back.

This process had to be repeated— use the light until the darkness leaves. Use the darkness until the light leaves. Once you started hallucinating, it was time to put the light out. That was the only sure way that Vera knew would get him to the top.

And this time, he was so, so close.

“You should’ve seen the island! It was full of—“

“—run when you see a— what were those again—?”

“—where the hell did the anchor go?!—“

“—it’s okay… now, we have each other—

On and off, like a flickering light. Vera made it to the second brazier. He took some time to calm down, in the fire’s glow, understanding that he had to leave it soon— when he saw QD. Wait— QD?

She appeared at the elevator, looking around. From far, far away, she locked her eyes onto his.

Vera stumbled back from the fire, making sure he wasn’t seeing anything. The darkness inevitably came back, but QD wasn’t going away.

She finally came.

Shit. Last chance.

He either made it through the rocks or not.

At the same time— thousands of backup plans were already being calculated.

Would he die?

Escape successfully?

Kill himself before QD could reach him?

Go back with QD?

What was she even here for?

As she took a step forward, reaching a hand out to manipulate the space in this challenge of the Deep Down, it became clear that yes— she was here for him.

So she was here for him.

Yes.

She’d take him back, for sure. She’d take him away from changing who he was.

Did she even know that he was doing it for her? So he would never have to hurt her again?

She didn’t. She thought he was just attention-seeking, wasn’t she? And that he was just a problem to be fixed— trash to be thrown out. A simple chore. A mere task.

She didn’t know.

She didn’t know.

He was doing it for her— and she didn’t know that. She didn’t know that he wasn’t doing it for himself at all— he didn’t just want to be alone to benefit himself. He wanted to be alone to benefit everyone else.

Like he did back on the Train. He stayed in his room for three weeks straight, hurting himself because he deserved it— and staying inside to keep himself in containment.

And she just thought he wanted to be alone. To be moody. Avoid apologizing.

She couldn’t stop him. If she stopped him, he could never change— she would remind him it was all his fault.

So he had to run.

So she was here for him, and so he had to run.

He did so.

He hopped from rock to rock, flickering a flame between his hands as he weaved through rocks just as he had for the past week. Every step was crucial— down to the most minute bit. Vera could hear every tiny pebble crumble under his foot, roll onto the rest of the rock as he lifted it, then fall into the abyss. Each time he lifted a step or slammed it down, he could hear thousands of tiny pebbles and bits of eroded down boulders, all crunching together. In the grand scheme— in the view of his tiny, tiny, existence— the smaller rocks meant nothing, and he was just a rushing, worrying, useless bag of flesh, being followed by another bag of flesh— except that bag of flesh was so much more than a bag of flesh, and that this bag of flesh wanted to stop saying bag of flesh. Or… however this was being known to him, the bag of flesh (fine I’m stopping).

QD, as Vera glanced to the side, was already making her way to him. He stopped at a brazier, locking eyes with her again— horrified as she called to him.

“Hey, Vera!”

Ohh, Gods.

He began to burn up— his chest, his face, his shoulders, like he always had— and once again, his heart raced. Starting the run again, letting the adrenaline replace his blood and be pumped throughout his entire body instead of it, he was back. Back to his irregular heartbeat and fiery body. Back to wheezing and gasping unevenly, taken over by fear over the littlest things.

Only this was not little— this was big. QD was here.

QD was here.

And that made him even more nervous.

His panicked breaths came in and out of him, and his world spun around as the darkness closed in and out of his eyes, according to his flame and the braziers. It became harder and harder to breathe, he was so exhausted but had to keep going, his chest ached, his stomach churned, and he began to think that he just might have to die.

Now that was all his unconscious thoughts could think about.

He was going to die, and he wouldn’t live to make a change.

But he had to stay alive!

He had to!

To make up for everything he did!

Otherwise…

Hey, Vera?

Oops. Not now…

Vera shook the stupid voice out of his head. Where was she when he needed to get his mind off of things, ages ago? Damn it.

He stepped onto a rock, back into the sight of a brazier— and stopped to catch his breath, knowing that in doing so, he might not ever muster up the means to keep going. He was going to die.

The fire next to him immediately set his world alight, giving him the oh-so familiar ringing once more.

“—look, we got all this wood, and we were s—“

He stumbled out of the fire, back into the darkness, running again, breathing too heavy and too hard, holding out his fire when the darkness covered his eyes, grimacing when the ringing came—

“—Yayy!! Extra funds!—“

—the fire was out again, and he nearly tripped in the dark, choking on air and gasping so hard his throat hurt and his lungs burst, wobbling back up again, hopping onto more rocks as the darkness closed his eyes, to which he responded with a flame he kept close to him— that accidentally exploded in his hands, but not before making his head spin and his ears pop—

“—that right there’s a star, and I bet you knew that, eh?—“

—he broke down again, then broke up, and into a sprint, this time— and the darkness came around, and he slipped onto a rock, nearly tripping over and into the void, a hand slamming onto a stalagmite for stabilization, allowing him to get right back onto a rock, but not before his vision blurred and he had to summon his fire again, which he found from the depths of his exhausted, tired, weathered soul, where he dragged anything he had left— hopes, dreams, passions, anger, rage, lost memories, broken promises, incomplete stories, the past, the present, the future, hate, animosity— sheer, pure, absolute animosity— and burst a pure white flame between his hands, running as fast as he could, shoulders heaving, sweating profusely, only ever barley slowing down when the ringing came back—

“—no, it’s… it’s not that simple. V-Vera, I—“

—he flicked the fire out, making a long jump into the darkness and tumbling down onto a cold platform, landing into a roll, his eyes once again plagued by the darkness, and he, knowing the remedy so well, took out his fire again— still white hot— and he burned away at his soles as he ran as quick as he could, noticing there was nothing left— just a plane of rock, shrouded in a foggy darkness, revealing a tiny, metallic orb that got larger, and larger, and larger, and larger— and even larger, until Vera flicked away his flame before the ringing to get to him, reaching out a hand to the orb— that slipped from his fingertips, sped down— onto the gate’s door that he could now see below him, finding he was on a cliff high up above it— with his eyes widening, he realized his best option now was to jump off, onto the gate that was slowly opening, and to wherever the hell he had to go next— and he knew his bag was still on his shoulder— he knew— and that QD was right behind him, now speeding up as well, as he burned away every last bit of himself to get away from him, QD, screaming his name, beckoning him to come here, to stop, to wait a minute, to just hold on— he ran, he ran, he ran, and he ran so fast— off the cliff, through the air, preparing himself to roll out his fall, even out the damage, continue to run even after crashing into rocks and breaking his ankles with every step, making it to the ground and doing what he knew he would do— breaking into a roll— and running through the open, tall, cold, stone, grey, smooth, gate doors, that opened to a regally pastel yellow room, with a velvety red carpet that would drape and cascade over his shoulders like a king’s cape if he allowed it, paired with statues of stone surrounding the path, going up thousands of stairs that he skipped and sprint up, running and running and leaning into his run, stumbling over every step of the stairs and his own steps, running and burning and burning and running and lighting himself on fire and seeing two metal doors slide open as he ran for them, reaching out without knowing, making it in, crashing out onto a conveniently placed couch, turning around with a heaving chest, seeing QD for a moment as the metal doors slid together and closed on her.

Vera couldn’t notice a single thing when his entire body shook with each breath. He gasped in and out, so loudly, so violently— like he would never get another breath of air again. In and out, in and out, his face was hot and his ears grew cold.

“—ghhhh—“ his lungs seemed to collapse in on themselves, expanding after being crushed with great difficulty, popping back in and out.

He hugged onto himself, sliding down the couch he’d landed on, gasping and gasping but never sobbing, never crying— because he was a man.

Putting a hand on his forehead, pushing back his bangs, Vera stopped breathing. He stopped breathing on purpose, feeling his heart shake his entire body, and then letting it get more air. He did this until slowly, bit by bit, his heart slowed and returned to normal, but he was still shaken, sweaty, and panicked.

He was just sitting on the couch, shaking with every breath, although his heart had slowed. His world slowly stopping spinning, his temperature fluctuated between a few extremes but returned back to normal, and he melted into his seat. His head hurt so bad, throbbing as he swore he could smell blood. He couldn’t even register the way his head was swooning side to side, or his blinking.

All he wanted to do was wither away. Completely drained, he wanted to wither away. To sleep. He was exhausted.

It was done. The rocks were past him now. Everything bad was gone. He was okay.

He was okay…

He was okay.

He flopped over on the couch. He wasn’t happy. He was tired. He couldn’t celebrate his win— he couldn’t. It was a hollow victory. Exhausted and hurt— just somewhere else. That was all this was.

Exhausted and hurt. There was nothing good about this.

It felt like an old piano was reverberating in the back of his mind, spindling old, nostalgic and saddening songs to him.

He turned over on the couch, shaking uncontrollably as he closed his eyes.

But he never cried. He had never cried.

That was something to celebrate.

If he wasn’t so tired.

This had hardened him— made him tough, made him suffer—

—and he finally felt like a man.

He swallowed his spit, washing it down his dry-enough-to-start-tasting-food-and-indescribables and pulsing cold throat.

Manhood. It felt so much like a panic attack.

He closed his eyes as he bunched himself together, only then realizing his bag had been taken to his nap with him.

***

Step 8: I Hope You Know What to do From Here, Because Before You Receive Further Instructions, You Have to Put Together What You Have Using the Screws and Bits from the Bag Labeled ‘S’

Vera had the worst sleep of his life. He was absolutely exhausted and burnt out, so he needed it— but every second was another moment of torture. Often, back on the Train, he had the worst nightmares, which he noticed had only gratified in here, the Deep Down. Especially after the rocks that didn’t scare him at all. Every time he closed his eyes, he felt right back into nightmares and hellish sights.

In one nightmare, he was floating in the ocean, awake and silent, his ears covered by the water. He could hear nothing but it.

All he was doing was floating— and floating for hours. The dream lasted for hours and hours, with him floating the entire time. Everything was much greyer than usual. The overcast skies were dark and crowded, the ocean around him was a deep grey, and a light fog covered everything around him.

He floated and floated.

He drifted off, further from shore, simply floating.

There was only one good thing about it, he thought— the fact that if he was lying on the water, he couldn’t see the person in it.

He couldn’t see himself.

And so it was better to float, float along the small waves that lapped at his sides, float along and know that there would be no rain— no storm to drown him.

Whether that was a good thing…

…Vera didn’t know.

He knew that he couldn’t drown, because a man doesn’t drown.

But Captain Oleander had drowned.

He was conflicted.

Plus— to him, drowning was the perfect death. A fight with the strongest thing in the known universes… water.

Challenging the strongest enemy he could face, but dying in the end… that… that was just fine. That was perfect. He died taking on the impossible challenge… he died before he could turn into something worse than he’d already been.

At least, that’s what he imagined. He wasn’t dead. Another conflicted feeling. He wanted to die. But he couldn’t, he couldn’t.

It had been said. It had been said many, many, times.

He wished that it wasn’t going by so quickly. His journey, his remembrance of the past— it seemed like he was remembering something he’d completely forgotten everyday.

A part of him wished that he slowly suffered. That he slowly remembered. That, like the dream of the sea, he slowly drifted off into waters of remembrance of truth. He wished that by slowly remembering, not being thrown memories that hurt every bit of his existence… he would float through a way of living that mattered.

If he remembered slowly, it would matter. It would matter. He would be allowed to care.

No— no, he was never allowed to care. He was too grown for that— he was a man. He wasn’t meant to care at all. Never. Or he would never be a man.

…he…

Was so confused. He was so full of contradictions, so lost in the world and so lost in the grey sea. Be a man, but feel like a woman— want to be a woman and want to be a man. Hate himself, but think he’d done good with things like the light puzzle. Remember, but want to forget, and want to remember… then never want anything ever again.

Close his eyes and need sleep, but never want or need sleep but want it— to go, to move forward, to change…

Scared but never scared, never frightened and never moving a muscle, manly and womanly but never anything in between. Marvel at how he used to never be afraid, then flinch at a dream he had, flinch at floating over sea, freeze up when something walks up to him…

Care then be able to care less, never care and care all the time. Wait by someone’s side, leave them, and hold their hand all at the same time.

…Hate. Hate was all he had for himself. He, so full of himself and full of contradictions— so full and so hateful.

Hate. Hate. Hate…

While floating along the dull waters, he thought of all these things, arms and legs bobbing around him, feeling so detached.

…it was so, so bad to think.

In his dream, he thought. He was thinking and thinking. Terrible. Terrible, terrible.

He floated along in deep waters.

Waters of thought… detached from everything but his mind.

Ah…

What Jay said before…

He was contradictory…

Jay was right…

Everyone was right except for him.

Here he went again. Doubting himself, hating himself, knowing he deserved nothing—

—he sometimes debated that, too.

He wanted to have a nice life.

He wanted to have QD back in his arms, hugging her at the end of all of this with a smile. He wanted to carry her, spin her around as he embraced her, laugh cheek to cheek, smile and smile and grin and laugh and hold hands… watch the stars, watch Antares, watch her watching Antares and explaining Antares, watch her eyes as they watched the skies, watch her eyes as they watched him. Smile at each other, chuckle and giggle, fall back, fall into each other… love her and love life.

Remember Captain with fondness, understand that he very well could be happy— innocently hope that he was alive, just somewhere they couldn’t reach— hope that he was alive and that he was well, hope that he was hoping the same for them, hope that they knew this for each other, and hope that they were content with never knowing. Remember him, hope for him, laugh for him, and know that he would’ve wanted them to laugh and to hope and to smile and to never cry or worry that he was gone.

He and QD would spend all their time together, forgetting anything between them had ever happened— or better yet, say sorry— run their hands through each other’s hair, make the excuse that they were only fixing it up, but really mean that they held deep love for each other. They would hug each other by the waist, but never anything more. They would be just far enough, just close enough, just warm and happy enough. She would take him to see something, he would smile and decline ever being interested in going out in the first place. She would laugh and tell him that wasn’t true, and he would keep denying.

He would hang out with Cory, Danann and Hira, and they’d all be stupid together, never exceeding any IQ higher than 68 while in the same vicinity. They’d play music, talk about whatever they wanted, laugh and make the worst jokes ever— stare at the person who said it like they’d committed a heinous crime— showcase their cool rock collections, laugh and point and be loud without meaning to…

He wanted to be happy.

…He just fantasized about being happy.

He could never be happy.

He would never let himself be happy.

Because he hadn’t changed yet.

In his surreal state between awake and not, tossing around on the couch and never paying attention to the world around him, Vera dreamt.

In his dream, on the grey sea, he dreamt that he floated.

Then he dreamt that he sank.

Slowly, so slowly… his limbs floundered under the water, swallowed and chewed out by it gently…

His torso came next, followed by his head…

Until he had waded under the water, unmoving and still, slowly sinking down below, where he would never be found.

***

Step 9: It Takes Some Time to Assemble the Machine, so Have a Free Treat from Bag ‘H’

An old piano… Vera loved to play the piano.

At first, he played the violin— but he hated it. He loved the piano. He liked it better than the violin. So, he picked up the piano.

You can’t pick up pianos, generally…

It meant to… to play the piano… to take up learning the skill…

Laying on the couch, he felt the need to explain himself.

That was the energy you needed for writing a suicide note, wasn’t it?

He slowly sat up, his heart aching and pleading for more air every move he made. It was so, so tiring…

For the first time, he looked around the room he was in.

Soft yellow walls, couches and beds all around him of different colors but same model and make. There were lots of brown crates that were only a little smaller than his height. Soft light was coming from an unknown source. That was about it.

Vera put a hand on his forehead, rubbing his fingers deep into it. The pain lessened once he kept pushing onto it. That was how he usually dealt with pain, and had been forgetting to do so recently. Maybe he should start really thinking about Captain and his old father and QD… then it would stop hurting less.

But that wasted time. Took too much out of his life. He needed that for when he was going to change.

On a side note… his food.

He was running out.

He had about three to four days left, and he had no clue how much longer he had until he made it to the Heart Locket. Where had the rest gone?!

Wherever it went— he slowly took out the bottle of soup and sipped on it. It was nearly out… and nearly cold. That wasn’t too bad. It was still edible.

Vera closed his eyes and hardened his mind on the depressive thoughts of the past. He wanted to be happy… he wanted to be tortured.

A nightmare he’d had… he was stabbed through his stomach a thousand times. Might’ve been hunger.

A nightmare he’d had… his stomach was ripped open, his throat was burning, his head was throbbing, pooling blood on the floor… it was just an old memory.

A nightmare he’d had… he’d put his neck through a noose, and let it choke him. Nothing to worry about, just some tendencies.

He took more sips from the bottle of soup, holding onto it like it was still warm, and warming his hands.

Ahh… how terrible everything was… he screwed the lid back onto the bottle of soup, putting it away in the bag. Then, he laid back on the couch, letting out a dragging sigh.

Back to thinking.

Vera thought about Code 158. It must’ve been… somewhere. Holy shit, did he— did he just leave the place he was supposed to get Code 158 from? Or Code 130? Whatever challenge brought whatever code— he was worried he’d just missed it.

If he didn’t have either one… then… then… he’d— he’d never change.

HE’D NEVER CHANGE.

HOLY SHIT.

HE NEEDED TO FIND CODE 158 NOW.

WAS IT IN HERE?!

OHHHH. GODS. NOPE. NO. NOPE. THAT WASN’T HAPPENING, SURELY?

That wasn’t Vera thinking, by the way.

Just to let you know.

Wink! Not in a meaningful way, though. Just confirmation.

Vera stood up, immediately glancing around the room confused and anxiously. Then, he sat back down again, his vision breaking into little snowy dots, making him dizzy.

“—shit… shit… shit…”

After recuperating from the anorexic break, Vera stood up dizzily. He left the couch, frantically looking around.

“—Gods, I— I know— I— I left— it has to— be— it’s gotta… gotta be… s…somewhere… I— I wouldn’t have missed it… I wouldn’t have missed it… please… don’t… let me… I… don’t let… I— cou—uldn’t hav—have m…missed…”

He felt like he was about to vomit. The one thing. THE ONE THING HE NEEDED.

Rage pent up inside of him. It had to be here. In this stupid elevator that kept fucking moving. It had to be somewhere in here, in the couch cushions, in the mattresses, in the crates, in his own stomach, if it had to be— all he was certain was that it. Was. Here.

It. Had. To. Be. Here.

Vera’s hands flew to his head, fingernails digging into his scalp as he scanned the large elevator room.

If it wasn’t here— if it wasn’t here..!

He began to laugh suddenly, having no energy to do so.

“…hehehehehehhhhh… it’s— here, it— it has to be, God, it HAS TO BE.”

If it wasn’t here…! If it wasn’t here!

“…this isn’t funny, this isn’t funny, it— Ammi, this isn’t funny! This isn’t fucking funny! Y-Y—YOU S—SAID— TH—TTTHhhhhaaaahahaaaahhhttt—“ he scratched his nails deep into his skin.

If it wasn’t here, he was going to kill himself. That was it. End of story. If it wasn’t here, he was going to kill himself.

He was already running out of food, sanity, and more. It would save him and everyone lots of trouble if he died— even if he left them all without the gift of the nicer version that he would become.

“—it— it’s a deep memory—! It— it’s in the Deep Down! IT’S GOTTA BE HERE! UNLESS YOU FUCKING MOVED IT, LIKE A FUCKING— BITCH— RRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.” He ground his teeth together, clawing away at his head as his knees buckled.

Vera now skipped all suicidal thoughts, relishing in killing Ammi instead. He would get out of here, get out of here alive, then he would find Ammi, he would march up to her, and then fucking kill her. That was the plan. He was going to kill Ammi. He would have fun doing it.

He began to burn up again. There was no point in calming it however— there was no one around for him to lash out at except for the furniture. And he could look for Code 158 in it.

“—man— Ammi— fuckin’— I need it— I NEED IT.” He repeated over and over, his hands now dragging down to his face. His nails, once again, dug into his skin. “—why wouldn’t you just GIVE IT TO ME?! WHY NOT?!??”

Nothing in the room responded. It was dead silent.

However, Vera was practically seething with violent, bursting rage. That seemed to be noisy enough.

“Please, please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please— PLEASE.” Vera groaned, falling onto his knees after pacing around. “I HAVE TO LOOK FOR IT. I HAVE TO FIND IT. I JUST— I JUST HAVE TO FIND IT. IT’S SOMEWHERE IN HERE, ISN’T IT?!”

Yes. He had to look for it. So, crawling on his knees, he looked under a bed.

Nope.

THAT WAS PROBABLY BAD.

He looked around even further— he scanned under beds, on couches, hidden in the cushions— in the pillows… he made a bundle of pillows from the beds and punched the everloving shit out of all of them to try and find something hard— something solid— something Code 158 shaped.

No. No. No, no, no, no, NO.

The couch cushions. Those were next. Vera pulled each one out from the couches, opened a zipper he found at the side of each, and yanked out the foam and stuffing and little springs. Code 158 might as well be hidden in one of them.

And the elevator— he seemed to have so much time when he went through the first elevator— but— but now— he felt like he had no time at all! 

The elevator would stop. It would stop, and he would wonder why. Then he would realize that elevators stopped because they reached their destination. Would Code 158 still be in here once that happened? Was it down, down back in the old challenge— waiting for him? Did he pass it by? Would he get another challenge to redo the last one? Or, would he not be given another chance at all? Another challenge?

He had to leave.

He had to exit when he could— if, of course, in the case where he couldn’t find Code 158, and he had missed it— and he had to exit quick. Because— because if he couldn’t get to the Train before his food ran out, or before he was— something, he didn’t know— he wouldn’t fucking kill Ammi. And that was his second top priority. The first being actually finding Code 158. Which he had to find.

The elevator would stop. He wouldn’t find Code 158, he’d kill Ammi, feel really good about it, have everyone else hate him as much as he hated himself— and then he would commit suicide. He would mercilessly kill himself.

Gods, Gods—

He— he was only seventeen years old.

He was seventeen years old…

…but he felt…

…so, so, so, so, so much older.

He felt so much older. 

He would kill himself.

Not before ripping up bits of couch foam.

There was no Code 158 in his first batch of couches. He now had to search through them to see if they were hidden inside of the couch itself— and in the squishy part you laid back on, too.

So that he searched.

He went back to his duffel bag, found the little knife he packed, and slashed at the couches. He tore out the cotton, the stuffing— whatever the hell it was— and ripped and cut and tore, just like he was slicing someone to death.

Good practice. Really good practice.

Those couches didn’t have anything. It already began to feel hopeless— but Vera burned hotter. He had a feeling he’d burn up entirely, just like at the rocks— or burst into white flame, also just like at the rocks.

If Code 158 and the rocks were as equally as important…

He shoved the knife in his pocket dangerously. Then, he ran to a bed, tore off the covers, and searched those, too. Each sheet, each blanket— he shook them out, stomped on them to make sure little hard bits of potential Code 158 weren’t inside— and tossed them into the stuffing-cotton-cushion-foam-covering-spring bits pile.

If he was really angry enough, he’d burn it all later.

For now, however, all his anger was spent on actually searching for Code 158. The rest of his emotions were panic. Panicking that he wouldn’t be able to find it. Worried, about to cry—

—ohhhh, shit, if— of Code 158 wasn’t here—

No. No, he didnt. He hadn’t. He wasn’t going to admit that just yet. Let it be over.

It wasn’t over.

It wasn’t over until he stopped trying.

And he was still trying.

Be a man.

“Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Be a man. You’re a man. You’re strong. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.” He muttered to himself, repeating it over and over like it was a chant for rain in the driest of deserts, slowly losing himself.

Blankets were gone. Pillows and cushions were gone. Undersides of beds were searched, couches were ripped to shreds and practically violated.

It was just the mattresses left.

Vera pulled his knife out of his pocket and stabbed into a mattress. He yanked out stuffing and springs, accidentally cutting himself and poking himself with springs in the process, spouting blood all over the block of soft he was gutting out.

Even if he was bleeding out, he still ravaged the mattress. He destroyed all of them— every mattress— to find Code 158.

But nothing worked.

Stuffing was everywhere, bloody rags of blankets, pillows and more were strewn across the room.

It looked like someone let a rabid animal loose.

Once he put away his knife, he rubbed his eyes, accidentally getting blood all over his face— without any realization that he was doing so until he lifted his hands from his face.

In fact, he hadn’t realized anything until he stopped his fit of rage and stood in the middle of the room, looking all around. Everything— everything— was destroyed. All ripped apart… gutted… torn… he glanced around the madness with a face that increasingly held worry.

“…hmmm…” Vera hummed, now turning to glance behind him, slowly holding his hands in each other. He figured that if he was in a story, he’d be currently standing in a metaphor. Maybe some foreshadowing. Something like the sort.

Yes… the mess he’d made reminded him of himself. The same action— just a different medium. Get angry, make things worse… and make them worse for himself. Now, there was nowhere to sleep. Or to sit. Every couch and bed was destroyed.

…he didn’t need them, anyways. He could sit perfectly well on the ground or sleep on the floor.

They were just nice things to have, though.

He sighed, running a bleeding hand through his bangs. Oh, it was bleeding!

 Vera pulled his hand from his face once more, then pulled the other to its level. He examined them back and forth. Cut, of course, and scratched in several places. Must’ve been from the rocks, and he hadn’t realized…

Upon further self-inspection, Vera noticed he was entirely scuffed. That also must’ve been from the rocks.

Well, whatever. Men needed to get a little roughed up, anyways. It wasn’t a big deal. And none of it hurt, so…

…the cuts were hurting him now— now that he took account of them.

The solution was simple. Ignore it.

No one wastes a few bandages on simple cuts, anyways… and they wouldn’t get worse, either, because when did they? He was fine. Plus, letting the cuts breathe was better than bandaging them up.

Ah… speaking of…

Vera looked down at his shin. The one that got cut deep, back near Code 214. Under the bandages, he’d hoped it healed up nicely. It nearly had.

That was good enough…

He closed his eyes, then crossed his legs as he lowered down to sit.

So…

…Code 158 wasn’t here.

It must’ve been on the floor below— or maybe the next floor?

Maybe Vera had to keep going to get it.

Either way, all the rage that was pent up inside of him fizzled away through the destruction of the entire room. He was no longer scared, manic or tempered. He was simply existing.

Realizing what the room looked like, how many cuts were on his hands, and how badly he had fucked everything up.

Vera rubbed his eyes for the thousandth time. Of course— still bleeding.

He tilted over and laid on his side.

Then, he covered his face and took a gasping breath of air.

He just needed to figure out how to deal with this now. Kill himself, hoping that Code 158 was under, or continue on, hoping that Code 158 was above. Whichever he liked.

Either way… Code 158 was not here.

It wasn’t here.

And… if it wasn’t here…

“…it’s not funny. It’s not funny. I’m— n—not a joke—“ he choked, suddenly shaking as he laid on the cold ground. “—I’m serious— so, so— s-serious— I— need it—“

Vera ground his teeth together and pulled his face down.

“—I— I really— tried— to— to— c-ch—change— I’m— so— serious— it wasn’t a joke— I— I tried— everything…” 

Yes… he’d tried everything.

He tried to be nice, tried to smile his way past his sudden, lashing anger. He tried to hide away from the things he was scared of, and he tried his best to ward them away. He tried to never speak again, never hurt again, never do a single thing again— in hopes he would never break any more than he had— and most importantly, he tried his best.

Most heartbreakingly, he tried his best.

He even tried to venture out into the Sea, battle against the Deep Down and whatever else was offered to him— all in one go, with barely anything to supply him, knowing it wouldn’t be enough and was stupid and childish and dumb— but…

…he couldn’t think of anything else to do.

“…I tried… I tried, I tried, I tried, I tried, I tried… I… what— what else am I supposed to do? Can’t I think of anything else to do? Why can’t I think of anything else to do? Can’t someone tell me what to do? Why can’t someone tell me what to do? Can’t I just listen and comply with what everyone else wants me to do? Why can’t I just listen and comply with what everyone else wants me to do? Ca—Can’t it— just be easier to be nice? Why can’t it just be easier to be nice? Why can’t p-people— why can’t they— j-just deal with me? Can’t they just deal with me? Or leave me? Or kill me? Just— remove everyone’s suffering? Mine, theirs… it would be okay… it would be okay if I died… I— I— can’t do anything right. T-that’s the truth— I just can’t…” he pulled on his collar rhythmically. “…everyone says they can’t do anything right. They all say that. I mean it. I mean it. No one— ever tells me… I… I’m doing anything right… so… how could I know…”

…

It…

Wasn’t…

Very manly…

…it…

It wasted time to be thinking about this. It wasted time to be wallowing away uselessly, all crumpled up like a soggy newspaper in an English gutter, breaking down over the littlest, stupidest things that couldn’t possibly be of any importance whatsoever.

Vera sat up, stabilizing himself with a shaking arm, wiping away the sweat and blood that matted his face with his sleeve.

He would get out. He would change. He had to. It was his job.

He had to be a man…

He kept telling himself that he had to be a man, but he never listened. He wasn’t doing it right.

Now, he would. He really had to listen.

Easily enough, he’d forced himself to never cry. He could do the same and become a man.

And once he was a man, he could change for good, protect the people he loved and have a purpose, and be happy. He would make everyone happy— and make himself happy.

So, in the end— it was be a man.

C’mon. Just be a man.

“…be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man…”

He repeated the words over and over until it went from the inside of his skull’s lining to the outside— then back inside again. He repeated the words until they shamed his old repetition, which now paled in comparison, and until they were reborn from ashes like a phoenix rising from the shackles of death. He repeated the words until he could feel a little warmer on the inside, until the fire inside of him lit itself up again, fueling itself once more with his intense and passionate emotion.

“…I’m gonna be a man… I’m gonna do it… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man…” He ran his hands through his bangs endlessly. Once one hand had finished the race through the now dirtied strands, the other followed right behind it. “…okay…? No more tricks… no more stupid excuses… just… be a man. be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man… be a man…”

Slowly, the repetition tired him out. His arm eventually dropped him onto the floor and, in a pool of his cut’s own blood, he fell asleep harder than an old person falls from the seven flights of stairs in their mansion purchased (?) in 1973. And yet, even harder.

***

Step 10: fuck (‘A’)

Like the beginning of all great chapters—

Vera woke up.

Groggy, covered in blood, feeling like a piece of shit, cold, entirely sore and with puffy eyes… he slowly sat himself up. The eyes were strange— why were they puffy? He hadn’t cried. Maybe he was coming down with something… he was hungry, after all, and was running out of food. The elevator hadn’t stopped, and he hadn’t had a sense of time in forever.

He just assumed weeks and days existed after he based them off of his sleep schedule. He figured that he had gone without sleeping for more than… about fifteen hours every ‘day’, but… maybe.. he kept sleeping about every six hours, on and off… and… the days melded together…

…he was hungry… he wanted food… his food, that was running out…

Hugging his knees to his chest, he glanced around for his bag. It definitely got lost in the chaos, the same chaos that ruined his brain and made him forget where he was and who he was. No worries… he would find it…

Unless…

…never mind…

Vera stood up shakily, then found his bag, perfectly alright beside some couch guts, after a quick scan from a better vantage point— his height. The walk to it was slow, with dragging feet and dragging regret. Eventually, Vera dropped himself down next to his bag, sifted through, grabbed whatever food he could find with a spicy hint of miserable, and ate. The soup, he’d found, was getting old… but he didn’t mind. He’d had worse, so this was nothing. It was just more food he couldn’t bear to waste. So… he finished up the very last bit of it, even if it reminded him of how terrible his cooking was.

…he’d kill to eat something QD made… it didn’t even have to be good… just food… fresh, warm, food…

…no…

The soup wasn’t enough to get him up and standing again. He sifted through the rest of his food… and found that his crackers were nearly depleted, he had two water bottles left, he had half of his trail mix, his bread was just— nonexistent—  found his beef jerky still untouched (since he was saving it), and… the jelly sticks he’d almost forgotten about. He still had all of them.

Okay. Okay, good enough.

He finished off his crackers, drank a sip of water, and had one stick of beef jerky. Beef jerky was really, really good… it was like… a steak away from home.

Vera slowly let his eyes close. No, he wasn’t going to sleep again. He only wanted to think about how nice it was to eat something he liked, and to exist after a meltdown…

Unmanly, actually. He stopped. His eyes jolted open.

All there was left to do… was… wait…

…wait for the elevator to stop…

…see if he could get Code 158…

…fight…

…endlessly…

…for something he couldn’t even figure out the location of…

…waiting…

…to see if he could get it…

…and if not…

…if not…

Vera looked down at the beef jerky he was eating.

…If it wasn’t the shock of an empty stomach, then it was most certainly dread— because now, his stomach was full of rotting sickness and nausea that felt hot, warm— but not quite.

…if…

…not…

He didn’t want to finish his food.

Because, if not, then he would kill himself.

Only now did it seem like something he was conflicted on.

This was due to the fact that Vera was a very contradicting person.

***

Step 11: Once Assembled, You Will Have the Main Apparatus for Your Machine. This Will Be Referred to as Part ‘T’.

The elevator.

All good crises had elevators.

And this one in particular was…

…quite the elevator.

It was torn up. It was destroyed. It was still comfortable, however.

Vera… made a solid bed out of couch guts and pillow scraps.

Better than the floor!

Vera had realized lots of things about this elevator. He’d also realized that he’d never checked the boxes that littered the elevator for Code 158. He proceeded to carry out the action with manic giggling.

A part of him told him that the elevator would only stop if he found Code 158, which was in here somewhere.

Now, he didn’t know what to believe. He wished he had someone to tell him what to believe.

Even with his much calmer search of boxes, Vera could not find Code 158. It was just gone. Not even here in the first place, if he was thinking straight…

So Vera sat. He slept three times, so he figured it was three days. He ate a little… he rested, cleaned himself up… it was alright. His various scuffs and cuts were healing, so that was good. It was better to have those all cleared up before he proceeded, anyways.

The elevator went up… up… up and up…

“…Gods… I wish I wasn’t…”

Vera looked up at the ceiling, finding himself lying on his back on the floor… and he waited.

The elevator…

“…it’ll be okay… you’ll… be home, and you’ll be different— and you’ll be happy. Everyone’ll be happy. Just be a man…”

It took a good few… …a lot of 600-counts later… but the elevator finally stopped and made a ding.

Vera perked up. The elevator had stopped.

…

The elevator had stopped…

The elevator had stopped…!

He looked around, somehow caught off guard— he hadn’t expected the elevator to actually stop. He was waiting for his food to run out, and for him to starve to death.

Was he?

Maybe he was, but he wasn’t going to admit it.

But the elevator had stopped. And he was ready.

Vera slung his bag over his shoulder, then found himself running to the elevator door. It slowly slid open as he made his way to it…

Vera!

He stopped.

Hey, Vera!

He glanced around.

I know you can hear me!

“…uhmmmm…”

Vera?

“…Ammi…?”

Oh— you’re talking now?

Vera looked down. Was he talking now?

“No. I’m thinking.”

…uhm… oops, my bad… I thought you were talking.

“…it’s… okay…”

…

“…why am I talking to her…”

Ammi was going to pretend she didn’t hear that bit.

Where are you now?

“I’m seriously not gonna tell you. You can’t stop me, no matter what you do.” Vera muttered as he leaned back into the elevator. He hoped to clear up this conversation before getting even a glimpse of his next stop. Though, his heart raced and ricocheted in his chest at the thought of possibly finding Code 158. Or… Code 130. Obviously the former was much more important, so that was the one Vera had feared missing the most.

Awww, can’t I just ask about my friend?

“…we’re not friends…”

Are you serious?! You’re just saying that because you’re out somewhere angsting!

“You don’t like me, don’t you?”

Uhhh. Why would I be friends with you if I didn’t like you??

“Pity…”

I don’t pity people…

“…Sure.”

Hey! I’m serious! And plus, you need to come back now! You’ve been gone for days— for so long that it’s not even funny anymore!

“I’m not coming back until I find Code 158.”

Yeah, you’ll be at that for forever.

“Did you take it? Do you have it? Where is it? Give it to me.”

No. No, I don’t know, and no.

“D-do you not know where it is?”

I don’t. I threw it somewhere out in the Sea a while ago… it’s an old device that I haven’t needed to use for a while— and plus, it just… it messes things up.

“Okay.”

…SO ANYWAYS COME BACK.

“No, I can’t. Not until I get Code 158.”

Vera, Vera, Vera… aren’t you just dying out there? There’s no food in the Sea…

…

…

…

Vera could think of one place where there was, but…

“I’m fine. I’m going to find it.”

Just come back. Look— we haven’t spoken in forever! I’m sure you need some contact. Some social stuff. You need to talk to people! Your stupid friends have been stupidly worried about you. Me included, since I’m one of your stupid friends.

“Sure.”

Not joking~

“Maybe you’re lying, then?”

No. No I am not.

Vera slid against the wall, sitting down. “Yes you are. No one is worried about me. You just want me to come back.”

Not true! Well— I do want you to come back— it’s just— I mean it’s not true that no one is worried about you. Heck, even Jay’s been wondering about you.

“…please don't remind me…” Vera shook his head suddenly. “—whatever. Tell Jay I don’t care about him.”

Manly enough?

Look, Vera. Come back now or I will hunt you down myself.

“Yourself? Is there someone else hunting me?”

No— that doesn’t imply that there’s anyone looking for you. I think you’ve been away from people for so long that y

“But I’ve seen QD. She was around me a few times.”

…interesting. Where’d you see her?

“If I tell you, won’t you just find me? Though, I assume you already know— she definitely would’ve told you. Then, once you know, everyone does… and it’s a mess.”

Come home.

“…” Vera blinked, then put a hand through his bangs. “…home?”

Yes.

Come home.

He looked around frantically. “…come home?”

Are you deaf, or just stupid? I’m thinking you’re stupid.

“…I… the Train isn’t my home…”

Seriously? You really are stupid. You sleep here. And exist here. And you have people that love you here. And I bet you love it here. That makes it home.

“…no one loves me… I can sleep anywhere… I… don’t love it there…”

Come on. If the Train isn’t home, then what is?

Vera’s entire body now throbbed with pain.

He hid his face in his hands, now sweating profusely. “…Captain… that’s… home… I miss… home…”

What are you talking about?

“…leave me alone. You’ll never get anything out of me…”

Home… home was strange. Vera never felt at home anywhere— except for the bottom of the sea, cold, dead and decomposing…

Home… home…

Now all Vera would be thinking about was home.

“Stop it. Stop it. Th—that’s not— it’s not what you should be doing… it’s wasting time… you’re wasting time… you’re not hurt… trauma doesn’t exist… it’s just a l-lazy excuse—“ his voice broke as he warmed himself up to the emotions, trained himself not to feel them, and then bottled them up.

…Vera… come back…

“NO. I AM NOT COMING BACK.” He snapped suddenly. “GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!”

Woah. Calm down, Mr. Psychotic…

“LEAVE ME ALONE! JUST GET THE HELL OUTTA HERE!”

That sounds like a moody teenager shooing away the dog he’s not allowed to have!

“STOP IT.” Vera groaned, furiously digging his nails into his face as he lowered his head. “STOP MAKING FUN OF ME. I KNOW. I GET IT. I DESERVE IT.”

Vera, you know that’s not what I mean…

“GO.”

Will you always try to scream me away? That doesn’t work with lots of problems… maybe bears, but I’m not a bear.

Vera groaned once more, scratching gravel against his throat and voice.

Come back, man! You’re going crazy! You’re already talking to yourself and screaming—

“I’M NOT TALKING TO MYSELF. I’M TALKING TO YOU.”

No, you’re not! You’re talking out loud! We usually keep these conversations in our brains…

“GET OUT OF MY HEAD.”

No! You have to come back! I’m not leaving until you do! I’m gonna make sure you— you get outta the Deep Down, then— I’m gonna come over and find you— and we’re gonna go back together. Then we can help you.

“—You never wanted to help me in the first place. I don’t need any help. I’m not— what, broken? I’m fine. I’m fine. Just get away from me. I don’t need your help. You don’t care about me… you never did… you wouldn’t have… you’d’ve noticed… I… I’m not okay… I’m fine…”

You seriously sound delirious right now. Come. Home.

Vera violently shook his head as if Ammi would fly out of his ear. “GET OUT! GET OUT!”

VERA! C’MON!

“I NEED TO GO. I CAN GO. WHY DID YOU HAVE TO STOP ME NOW?! I NEED TO GO.”

DUDE. COME HOME. I AM SO SERIOUS RIGHT NOW.

“NO. NEVER. I WILL KILL MYSELF BEFORE I DO.”

DON’T!

Vera took his hands from his face, dug them into his shins, then thrust his forehead onto his knees.

“GET. OUT. OF. MY. HEAD.”

YOU’RE ACTUALLY INSANE.

“GET. OUT. GET. OUT. GET OUT.” He kept banging his head on his knees, grinding his teeth together. “YOU HAVE TO GO. GET OUT.”

STOP HITTING YOURSELF!

“GET OUT. NOW.”

VERA! IT’S NOT THAT HARD TO COME BACK!

“NO.”

Oh my GOD— UGH. Vera. Don’t hurt yourself. Just come home! You’re never gonna change yourself!

“I WILL. I WILL.”

NO. No, you won’t. Plus— Vera— we like you just the way you are!

“She’s lying… she’s lying— everyone hates me… I deserve it— everyone hates me. They’re all lying. I need to fix myself. Gods help me, I need to fix myself.”

Vera. Vera—

He flung his head back now, onto the wall. A sudden crack of pain shook his entire head, and melted all his thoughts together in a pot of confusion.

“…go… or find me yourself… I don’t care… just… stay out of my head…”

…don’t hurt yourself. And don’t hide too well. Expect to see me soon.

Vera didn’t realize how much he’d been struggling for air until he let all his thoughts die down.

“…she’s out… she’s out. It’s okay… she’s out, and you can go…”

The world spun for a moment. Was it the malnutrition, or was he actually going insane?

…insane… hunger…

Vera recollected his memories of the room he was in. It was torn apart, full of beds and couches and their guts… full of crates full of packing peanuts.

He shuddered a breath into himself, then let it out. He was still in the elevator. The doors had opened, he spoke with Ammi, and the doors were still open, even afterwards.

Now, he had to get out of the elevator. He’d spent long enough inside of this place, anyways.

“I need to get out…” another series of mumbling to himself resumed. “…I need to get out… see everything else…”

His stomach surged— not because he had to vomit, but because the words weighed on him terribly. Maybe it wasn’t even because of that. Maybe it was because of something else. Something he didn’t know about. Something he couldn’t figure out… because he still didn’t know who he was.

But he had to get out.

Especially because now Ammi would also be looking for him.

He didn’t get it…

Standing up, then walking out of the elevator… Vera was met with a deep, abyssal atmosphere, with hints of an electric bright blue. Bubbles seemed to float through the air majestically.

“This has to be the room… this has to be the room…”

Vera walked for a little while, until the atmosphere shifted and sparkles of light bounced around with the bubbles. Suddenly, everything became lighter but his own soul— and he was met with a huge skeleton of a whale in the distance. It looked like it was made of stars, translucent and outlined with galaxies upon galaxies of glimmers.

It was only natural to walk up to it.

“…it has to be here… it has to be here…”

Slowly but surely, Vera was met with the skeleton. It was huge compared to him, and they faced each other.

“…hello… I… was…”

It seemed much harder to formulate words when he actually wanted to speak.

“…d… do you know wh…where…”

The skeleton of the whale intently waited for him.

“…c-c…code…”

“Code…?”

The voice was so sudden that Vera paused for a while. Another round of staring commenced.

“It’s alright. Take your time.”

Surprisingly enough… Vera wasn’t treated with blinding hands or screeching memories. He’d flinched upon realizing, noticed his face was ridden with worry, then relaxed and let go of the rising adrenaline. “…158…” he simply put; then he looked down as he began to reprimand himself for even thinking about asking.

“Code 158… Share Your Wealth. Yes, I know of it. What do you know?”

“…I… need it…”

The whale’s stars unevenly glimmered as it seemed to ponder. “…alright. You’ve earned it, don’t you know? I can see the look in your eyes.”

“D-do you have it? Do you really have Code 158?”

“Yes. I do. And you’ve earned it.”

“Have I?”

“Of course. It’s clear to see.”

Vera’s bubbling and boiling and dying excitement swirled around inside him like butter on a tilting pan. “You’re joking… you’re lying to me… are you pitying me?”

The whale sadly chuckled. “No… think of it as proof of your worth. A certificate for you, given to you out of the sudden desire to do so. And yet— still because you’ve earned it through your hard work. That’s all it is.”

“…no, really?”

Instead of more laughter, the whale sighed. “Really, yes… take it and continue on, Vera.”

“Of course you know my name. Of course you do. Why… why are you…” Vera looked down. “I think I hate him. He knows my name.”

The whale glimmered once more, then slowly dissipated without further word.

“Wait, wait— wait, hey, whale, wait— wait, come back—“

Vera frantically but calmly and slowly waved his hands around.

“Wh—where’s Code 158?”

Nervously, Vera looked around before finding a shimmering piece of lavender light in front of him.

That must be it.

“It’s Code 158. He had it. I didn’t miss it. I have it right here. I have Code 158… I have Code 158, and it’s all mine. And now I have to go to the Heart Locket and use it on myself and then everyone will be happy because then I can fix myself and then I can be nice to everyone just like they would’ve wanted me to…”

He reached a hand to Code 158, grabbed it, then eyed it.

“I can’t believe it’s all mine.”

Why wasn’t he excited? There wasn’t a bit of emotion inside of him.

He couldn’t believe it was all his because he didn’t know if any of this was real anymore.

He doubted he had it because he’d expected to be hurt before getting it.

Of course, he wasn’t hurt. He wasn’t hurt before getting it. He wasn’t hurt because nothing happened to him, and he wasn’t hurt because he wasn’t traumatized. He wasn’t hurt because it was too easy that he didn’t get hurt in the slightest because of how easy it was.

It was so easy.

He wasn’t hurt.

He couldn’t believe it was all his.

He couldn’t believe he felt nothing with it.

“It’s a step closer to being good. It’s a step closer to not being me. Who wants to be me? I don’t. Gods, I need to kill myself.”

Maybe.

“Maybe it’ll be so unbearable to live happy everyday that I kill myself. That would be a good death. A death where I complete my purpose. …QD doesn’t need protecting… she doesn’t need me… all she needs is whatever will make up for me… me… bothering her… hurting her…”

He couldn’t believe it was all his.

“…Code 158 wasn’t in the elevator. I ruined it for nothing. Code 158 is right here. It’s here. I have it. Soon, I will be nothing… I can do it… I’m so strong. I’m so strong because I’m a man. Gods, I would hate to be a woman. I hate… myself…”

He held Code 158. He examined it, then it turned into a huge blasting machine thing.

“Woah… it looks like a big gun.”

It wasn’t even heavy. But it looked like a crazy invention.

Vera giggled. “It looks like a big gun…”

He wasn’t broken. He wasn’t broken. He wasn’t broken. Just in need of repair.

But that didn’t mean he was broken.

Vera looked at it, wishing it could just work… just like that. He wished he could just shoot himself with it and make himself pure and make himself okay again. Then he could leave and he could go back and make everyone happy and then he could kill himself and he would die. Seventeen.

“It’s unfair…” he whined. “…it’s so unfair… they don’t… they hurt me… I need to die…”

But he did not cry. That was good. He was a man.

“I’m a man.” Vera repeated. “I’m a man, so I don’t cry. I’m not hurt. I’ve never been hurt. But I just wish they could understand how badly it hurts… but I’m not hurt…”

The word ‘crazy’ never even appeared between ‘not’ and the period. It didn’t even cross his mind. But that was because he wasn’t crazy.

“…it’s so unfair… they should make it so that when you have Code 158… maybe it gives you free purity, just like that. Maybe they should make it so that when you have Code 158 it kills you unexpectedly or it gives you food. That would be fun to have…”

He examined Code 158, then somehow reduced it back to its form of light.

“…I don’t like it when people laugh… it hurts to see people laugh… because they’re having fun…” he commented out of the blue. “…do I say ‘maybe’ too much?”

Vera chuckled.

“…maybe…”

The joke. It was funny.

“…I made a joke… I made a joke… I made a joke… it’s okay when I laugh because then I forget what’s bothering me. I don’t like when people laugh because I just think about what’s bothering them. Then it makes me sad because they can’t run from it forever.”

Vera put Code 158 in his bag.

“…Gods… I feel so bad for them…!” Once more, he elaborated. “If I had… a wish…”

This was strange. Vera had been talking to himself ever since he’d gotten Code 158.

But he kept talking, kept standing there— didn’t know where he was meant to go, stood, spoke, he kept speaking…

“…I’m very good at piano…” he muttered. “…I used to play the piano… no, I’m not good at piano at all… I’m so hungry… When was the last time I ate… Gods, I hate it when people are happy.. I hate it…” a solution to his make-believe problem presented itself. “…what if we pretended we were never happy… I hate it when people…”

Vera spent another 10 minutes talking to himself, never once taking action, but subconsciously screaming at himself to move— because he was talking to himself. In the moment, however, it was the right thing to do.

“Ammi messed me up… she talked to me and now I can’t stop talking. She messed me up… she’s so annoying… I think I might have to kill her…”

Eventually, digging his nails into the straps of his bag and slowly placing one foot over the other, Vera made it back to the elevator. It was the only place to go.

In there, Vera sat himself down— and by then, was already silently pondering all the questions he’d asked himself with heavy eyelids.

“I need to sleep. It’s only for good energy.”

The elevator’s doors closed, and Vera figured that this was exactly where he needed to be. Code 158…

It was his now.

…he’d use it soon…

He had Code 158.

“…I… I’m going to get better…”

It was already a mess to try and understand himself and what exactly he was doing— but getting Code 158 only made it messier.

“…it’s okay… you don’t even have to think about it… because you’re gonna just… bury it. Why do I need to think…”

Vera closed his eyes. Only to think— but to not think. Slowly, carefully, quietly… he tried to remember what started this.

…he hurt Jay. He hurt QD. Those memories were vivid.

But he couldn’t remember anything beyond that…

Everything in between was a blur— up until he found his way to the Pear Blossom Cluster. Then it was somewhat clearer…

Wasn’t there something with Hira? Did… him and Hira…

…

It was difficult to tell.

The rain in his mind washed away any further thought— and soon, he couldn’t put his finger on any of it.

“…I guess… I just had enough of being a bad person. It wasn’t that… that bad. I just… overreacted like usual. At least I’m working to fix myself.”

He was glad he was being a man.

He hurt Jay and QD… maybe Hira… then, he was here.

All he knew for certain was the plan.

“…Code 130 next… the… Atlas. Then… I can find… the stairs.”

The journey ahead…

Vera would’ve felt a usual swell of excitement upon realizing the journey would be over. It would be— amazing. It would be a hero’s story… with a beautiful, legendary end that would be worthy of a mythical epic.

He smiled. Then he giggled. He laughed and laughed, falling onto his side and falling into mania.

But he didn’t cry.

***

Step 12: Next, Assemble Parts from the Box Labeled ‘E’

Three days worth of food.

Three days.

Vera began to space out each meal, wanting to strangle his past self for eating thousands of crackers. Because each meal he ate was barely filling and he was starving in between, he constantly suffered. That was good.

Three days worth of food…

The elevator took forever.

Eating was Vera’s way of getting energy and actually surviving. Other than sleeping…

At least he’d brought enough water. He was happily quenched and empty at the same time. It made a good substitute for sustenance, too. He either drank water or chewed on his own hand— the squishy part of his palm— or his wrist to satisfy the pangs of starvation.

So, Vera sat in place, preserving energy, burying his teeth gently into his hands.

It occurred to him that he would probably even eat himself to survive… just to change. He had to— he had to change, so he had to continue no matter what. It wouldn’t matter, either. Something that wasn’t life-threatening, but something filling…

“…I know where to get food… I know where to get food…”

He suddenly raved on and on— he knew where to get food.

…

…if the memory pit…

…Warren was in the memory pit.

“Oh… that’s so bad… but… the cycle of life, hm…”

Nothing rotted in the memory pit.

Warren wouldn’t rot.

He’d just lie there— dead.

…dead…

Already dead.

…completely untouched.

Just as if he’d died minutes ago.

Vera bit his palm violently.

“That would be bad. If I… but… he’s dead. And I’m not. Not yet… I… I’ll do it…” Vera felt his own skin crawl and bubble. “…I’ll do it if I have to…”

The memory pit.

It was possible to get inside, yes, but much, much more difficult to get out of.

He just had to make sure he knew his way back. After looking for Warren.

…

“…heheheeehh…”

Vera… knew how to eat people.

That was only if he ran out of food, though.

He chewed on his thoughts like he chewed on his palm.

…maybe if he felt like it.

The food problem was solved.

For now.

…

He still thought that Warren’s death was all his fault.

***

UGH. ELEVATOR.

Vera chewed on his palm until the bandage wraps on them frayed in the middle.

He chewed and chewed, and chewed until the elevator stopped again.

Finally! Finally, hahaha!

The elevator stopped! And it was at a different place, now!

Vera stood up, cheerily gripping onto his duffel bag. He sauntered to the elevator door as it slid open.

Finally…

He got to leave the elevator, and all of the torn beds and couches.

…for a second time?

The elevator opened to a lobby with deep brown wood, grey marble pillars, with subtle art nouveau and dark accents. The lobby was very, very tiny— no larger than an abnormally large walk-in closet. At the end of the room, there was a dark oak door, with a nightstand that held a vibrant, healthy, red rose on it.

Vera instinctively put a hand to it.

It was just a rose.

He looked at the dark oak door.

“…do I go in?” he asked the air, glancing around as he walked to it and hovered his hand over the doorknob. “…maybe I go in… that’s usually how this ends up…”

Another quick look-around, and Vera placed his hand on the doorknob.

A premonition.

“…something bad’s gonna happen… something bad’ll happen… I know it… if something bad doesn’t happen, I swear, I’ll kill myself at the Heart Locket…”

It hurt to look at the knob— it hurt to give it tentative glances and it hurt to give it glances that passed and bounced.

It didn’t hurt because he was nervous. This was precisely because he was a man, and men did not cry. It hurt because he knew what was going to happen.

“…clairvoyance…!” He chimed, knowing that this was not the case.

As a man, he had to know when he was right or wrong— but in the end, defend his claim anyways.

Ahhh, daily man teachings.

He scoffed, chuckled, then took to twisting his wrist— but found it hadn’t happened. Had he any strength?

There was nothing in his chest. Nothing to feel except for rising adrenaline, the fight-or-flight response. That was… manly, hm? Not a single emotion.

It wasn’t so bad.

People made feeling nothing feel like something so scary sometimes…

It was better to feel nothing, in the end.

“Okay, okay, okay… no more stalling, man.”

Oh, he’d unexpectedly called himself a man!

“…just turn the doorknob. You’ll be there. Then, finally, you can relax, a changed man.”

Despite the manly discussion with himself and the reassurance of the future, Vera found himself at a standstill— and he looked for any other problem to solve.

“…Code 130 will be at the end of this, just like Code 158 was. That’s for sure. Wh—what was it— deep memories? Maybe that was a deep memory. Deep Down… Okay.”

Solved… maybe…

“…it’s always maybe. I start with maybe. That’s not very good, is it…?”

Maybe he should open the door!

“Maybe I should open the door.”

…hmmm…

“…I’ll turn that ‘maybe’ into… ‘now’ or… delete it. To make that sentence make sense. ‘now I should open the door’ and ‘I should open the door’— ‘I will open the door’… I’ll open the door…”

He tried.

His entire body stopped him from doing so, begging him as it followed his gut’s feeling.

“…just… stop…”

Was it a big mistake?

What could be behind this door?

It was difficult to ignore his own body, especially when it was the only thing that could make him do what he wanted.

Oh— but— it couldn’t be…

“…Ammi’s probably doing this. She’s forcing me to stay in place so she can find me— and she’s forcing me to stay because then she’ll drag me back to the Train. The Train isn’t home. Not yet. Not until I change… I don’t know why she’s so obsessed… over stopping me.”

…

“Why am I obsessed…”

No! Time wasting!

Thinking was time wasting and not very manly. Bad.

Bad.

Bad.

Don’t do it.

Vera broke free of an invisible, dismaying grasp— and he shook himself out. He slapped a hand onto his wrist, the one on the doorknob, and then he forced the wrist to move. Craning the hand over it, Vera slowly opened the door. As he got the doorknob to finally twist and turn, he pushed himself forward with his legs, and managed to get the door open a crack.

He moved the door along. Just like everything— slowly, slowly… slowly. Slowly, the door opened. Slowly, he wandered inside.

Shutting the door behind him, Vera was met with a wallpapered corridor.

…

He was hit with a blast of ‘RUN AWAY’, his heart already leaping and warning him. It felt like his own thoughts would shut down, leaving way to only primal, animalistic instinct. Usually, he would’ve welcomed it— thinking was now redundant to him. Him especially— he, who was not smart. He didn’t need to think, he only needed someone else to do that for him. Someone else, who he would find on the Train…

But— run away.

Run away fast.

Run away as fast as you possibly could.

Run, run, run, Vera, run, and see where your legs would take you.

Run so that you could keep running.

Because you are not meant to be here.

This will be your single worst mistake.

Run before you make it.

Run away.

Run away before you can regret.

Vera pushed these feelings down, bottling them up.

No— never run, because you had to keep going. You had to change.

Even if your life depended on it?

But you were going to die, anyways.

This life?

Yes, this life, precisely.

Don’t ruin this life. It doesn’t mean to die— don’t ruin this life. 

Don’t ruin this life. 

No… it would be ruined soon, anyways.

It was supposed to be ruined.

But don’t ruin it.

Run back.

Vera found he had turned to the door, both hands with sweaty, clammy palms latched over it.

Run. Away.

“…you can’t run. You can’t run. Just face this challenge… face it head on… like— like a man.”

A man who wasn’t about to stop crying.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this. Why am I doing this? To change. I’m changing? Yes, so people will like you. People to like me? I need to be loved. I need love. I was loved once— but I’m not loved anymore. I need love… I’m so scared without it… I don’t want to be hit again…”

Again, straining himself— Vera put his back to the door and looked head-on.

“…it’s just a corridor. There’s nothing to run from…” Vera whispered to himself softly. “Don’t be scared. You’re not scared. Who told you to think that?”

As he took one step in front of the other, brain against body, he muttered useless things to himself.

“…seventeen… I’m seventeen… I’m not crazy, why would you think I’m crazy…?”

He took a deep breath in.

“…I’m not crazy… I’m seventeen, already a man, I don’t have— any trauma, and I’ve always— been a boy, and I always know who I am. And everyone loves me. And I know what I’m doing…”

Air… air went down his throat and into his lungs and fueled his body.

He had taken two steps from the door.

“It’s not so bad.”

A sound came from the ceiling— it sounded like footsteps— but something scurrying, too. Scuttling along wood, over Vera’s head, scurrying and scuttling and circling above him.

“…run…” Vera whispered.

He snapped back to the door, tried to twist it open, jam it open— found it was locked, sealed shut, tried to kick it— only hurt himself— found it wouldn’t open— and then he ran— ran ahead. He wound himself through the corners and maze-like walls of the corridor until he found a door that led him to a new corridor, which he heard the scurrying in again— so he ran, and he ran, and he must’ve passed barely ten corridors before realizing this was like a torturous cycle he would be trapped in for Gods know how long.

He dug the grave, and didn’t mind to put the shovel away— because he was going to bury himself right after.

So the dirt was poured over his head as he jolted through rooms upon rooms, noticing each different wallpaper— the colors, the patterns, the peels at the end of rooms and corridors and tunnels and forevers that seemed to go on forever and seemed to taunt him, ask him if he was afraid and if he was a man— and he ran.

He ran.

There was no running back, like he was given the chance to.

There was only running forward.

But, in the grand scheme of things, that was the only way.

Because if he ran backwards, he would see Ammi— then QD— then his captain and then his father.

As if he wasn’t already diving headfirst into them.

***

Step 13: I forgot how to build a machine (‘M’)

The halls were winding— far, far far and even further off into even more halls.

Vera couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being chased. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had to run, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen here.

To start off with our first ‘maybe’ of this chapter…

Maybe something bad really was going to happen here.

But still, through each hall he ran.

They were all different, and like little sections of a maze— but strung together to make hell. Vera seemed to be a magnet for hells.

There was a hallway with sickly green wallpaper, decorated with lines of the same color yet darker… there was a hallway with birch accents, wall runners, and soft pink flowers decorating white wallpaper… another with darker oak, and… purple… wallpaper.

Every room had wallpaper and they were all different.

Despite the differences, there was a pattern in some of the hallways. Until Vera reached a door that was hidden somewhere within the hallway, he was stuck in it— and after reaching a few doors, he began to see that the hallways had the same layout, and that there were set patterns. Each pattern would randomly alternate… so soon, he found out how to get to the exit quickly.

He assumed there had to be some way out of this place for good. With each passing door, however, he started to lose hope in this assumption.

The doors went on and on, Vera’s drive and fuel beginning to wane away with each door that he bust open with decreasing anxiety and panic.

Slowly… slowly, always slowly…

Slowly, he slowed down. His run turned into a weird jog— which turned into a walk. Which turned into a limp.

“…I— if I die… eh… who gives a shit…? Running… was too tiring… anyways…”

Vera was now limping to doors at barely even a fraction of his previous speed from running. Now, he had no idea how to tell apart his raging heartbeat from its source— the running, or the adrenaline and anxiety?

“…probably the thousandth door I’ve been through…” he commented as he opened a door. “…realistically… probably about… 50…”

He paused, after letting his words trail far off. This door led to something different.

…it looked just like the lobby.

“…the… fuck…?” Vera breathed, winded from the winding halls and from the sudden realization that this entire place could’ve been an entire circle.

…

But it didn’t seem like it.

The room… looked a little… different. From the first lobby he saw.

The rose on the table at the side… was still fresh and new, just as it had been.

“…ughhh… had me fucking scared… but I wasn’t scared. I’m not scared. I’m going to stop thinking now.”

Vera stood in silence for a bit, before slumping against a wall and sitting down. His arm hit his duffel bag— and he only then realized it was right there, and had been this entire time.

“…so tired…”

He hid his face in his hands and groaned away.

“…and hungry…”

Yes, he was hungry. So after pulling his hands from his face, they went to his bag and looked for water.

But it seemed that the water wasn’t full enough to distract himself with. There wouldn’t be any left for him to drink when he actually needed it…

…cigarette time!!

Vera rummaged through the bag, snatched the cigarettes and matches… and lit up the end of a cigarette he’d pulled from the box. Putting it into his mouth and pressing out the match, Vera tossed the two little boxes right back into his bag. He watched the corners of the room go fuzzy as he drew in breath after breath.

“‘Knew it’d stop working one day…” he groaned, feeling nothing from the cigarette. “…I can’t waste anymore… I’ll just…”

Nothing more was said. Vera held onto his aching head. Was there something in the dark? In the shadows, in the corner? Snow dotted his vision and he felt nausea build up in his throat, pairing a pulsing-with-pain brain.

…

…

…

‘Take some of my chores!’ Ekko had advised him and Ace.

Vera glared at him. ‘…why?’

Ekko rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips. ‘First of all, I’m older than you? Duh?? Secondly, don’t you two like chores?’

‘Uhm… kinda.’ Vera shrugged. ‘I like helping out Captain. Don’t tell me you don’t care about him!’

‘No! I do! Urgh. Stop putting words in my mouth and making me admit stupid things…’ Ekko put a hand to his face, looking off to the side as his pale face bloomed in embarrassed color. ‘You just like chores. So do mine.’

‘…okay. Sure. Captain’s reward me better, anyways.’

Ace raised an eyebrow. ‘You didn’t even ask me if I wanted to do your stupid chores or not.’

Ekko groaned loudly. ‘URRRGHH. ACE. Do you want to do my chores for me.’

Tapping her chin, Ace looked up. ‘IIIII’ll think about ittttttt….’

‘You’re gonna do it anyways.’ demanded Ekko, pointing down at Ace threateningly. ‘And— one last favor. Don’t tell Captain I left the ship.’

Vera held out his fingers, mockingly counting how much Ekko had told them to do.

‘SERIOUS! Don’t tell him! I’m bringing us a pet. So— if— if you finally wanna have a pet…’

Ace and Vera glanced at each other with eager eyes.

‘Okay. Fine. We’ll do your stupid stinky chores.’ Ace put her hands on her hips, tipping her nose into the air as if she was above Ekko. At this point in time, she was. She was the only person who would take everyone’s chores… and with that came a veneration to last a lifetime—

—and even beyond death.

Ekko grinned as he patted Vera’s shoulder with severe violence, already sprinting to leave. ‘Thanks!’

As he left, Ace rolled her eyes, looking at Vera. ‘Not even an ‘I owe you one’?’

Vera shrugged. ‘Let’s just do his chores. Captain’ll give us a hug or something… maybe a good reward…’

‘Yeah! A nice pat on the back.’ Ace looked down, lacking the cheerful look that went hand-in-hand with her cheerful tone.

‘…why do you like chores so much, anyways?’ Vera leaned forward to catch the emotions on her face, still pointed down.

Ace shrugged. She mumbled.

‘Hm?’

‘…uhm… I don’t need to tell you that.’

Vera blinked, then broke free of his search for her eyes. ‘Okay.’ He looked away, letting a silent moment of Ace Contemplation pass.

‘…okay, maybe I will.’

Vera grinned, controlling his face back to curiosity— worry and even concern— as he glanced back at Ace. He knew that she’d scramble at this opportunity to let someone know… especially since she’d asked Ekko about how she felt, meaning she was looking forward to explaining why…

…eh. Whatever.

‘Oh. Okay. Take your time.’ Vera gently put his hand on her shoulder, surprised no one was on deck right now. Fitting for the moment, however.

Ace looked around. It seemed she’d noticed the absence of people, too. Now or never, her face supposed.

‘…I just want to be good enough.’ She shrugged.

Oh, that was it? ‘Me too.’

‘…not in the way you want to, that’s for sure.’ Ace glared at him, suddenly steely and cold. ‘I just want to be good enough… because…’ she returned to soft and uncertain.

Vera waited.

‘…I…’ her face went red. ‘…y’know… I don’t think… anyone on here is… normal…’

‘Makes sense. Blue states off into space, muttering things… Francis never talks, Rex always looks afraid, Ekko can’t handle people touching him…’

‘—uhm. Yeah. Sure…’ Ace trailed off, seemingly ready to refute his point, but realizing it was kinda like what she meant. ‘…I— I’m… not… normal, either…’

Vera slowly nodded. ‘Y-yeah. I know…’

She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear as she cowered under Vera’s presence. ‘I mean. You’re ALSO not normal. You— you‘ve got crazy scars on your shins, you hang out around Captain waayyy too much— you— you sleep with Rex a lot, which means you’ve got a buncha nightmares!’

‘…uhm… and you’d know that because you’re there, too.’

‘WHATEVER.’

‘What about the chores?’ Vera scrunched up his face as he tilted his head.

Ace grumbled. ‘We’re getting there, stupid.’

‘Okay…’

She drew a sharp breath in. ‘I— want to be good enough.’

Vera looked off to the side, wondering if she was just crazy or forgetful or getting there.

‘…b-because… I… my parents left me.’

Vera turned back to her.

‘DON’T LOOK AT ME.’

Vera turned away.

He stared off into the sea, the waves lapping over each other and crashing into themselves, getting ever so violent off in the distance, so gentle on shore…

Ace continued, breaking the silence.

They were looking far from each other. Vera off into the sky, Ace onto the ground of the deck. She spoke this way, and he listened that way.

‘…I… was… fighting for myself… for a while.’ she slowly picked her head up, in a motion that seemed like she was reeling back to face someone who’d given her a crisp slap across the face. ‘…I was really scared. I didn’t know what to do… I always wondered…’

Vera turned to Ace now, too.

They both gazed at each other. Vera tried to find condolences to offer in his eyes, and Ace tried to find volumes she couldn’t speak to offer in hers.

‘…why… my parents left me.’ Her soul left her eyes as she stared off into something that no one else could quite see.

There was nothing to be heard but the waves, and Blue excitedly talking to Rex (although Rex never spoke, Blue kept calling his name)— muffled, coming from below deck.

‘W-was I— was I a good daughter? Did I never listen, was I a nuisance— did I never help out with chores…?’

Vera looked down, chewing on memories of his own.

‘T-that— that’s wh… why… I do… chores.’ she finished.

Surprising…

It was surprising they’d been given this moment, and the speed at which it was jumped to  was just as surprising. Surprising that no one came, surprising that Ace trusted Vera enough to tell him any of this.

‘Wh-why do you…?’

Was it Vera’s turn?

‘…I do it because I love Captain.’ Vera shrugged, looking into Ace’s eyes, braving the fear of judgement instead of shying away like she had. He hoped it would teach her something. ‘Captain’s… like… my dad… my better dad. My best dad. I want to show him I care and I love him… so I do my chores and never complain, and try to never fight with him… and be the best son I can be.’

Ace pulled away from Vera. ‘He’s not your real dad. He’s not anyone’s real dad. He just… takes care of us. And teaches us.’

‘Like a dad?’

‘…we’re both like this because we’ve been hurt.’ Ace added out of nowhere. ‘I’m worried I’m the first that Captain’ll dump… and you’re worried that Captain’ll hurt you, aren’t you?’

Vera’s eyes widened. ‘What? No. That’s not true. Captain would never hit me.’ He lifted a hand to comfortingly rub his other arm.

‘He won’t, but you act like he will. That one time he got mad at you for bringing that stupid pet—‘

Vera hid his face in his hands and turned away from Ace. Lesson unlearnt.

‘—you went to bed early, and you know that everyone knew you were crying! The way you looked at Captain was like— if you were— I dunno, really scared.’

‘Ekko does that too!’

‘Ekko’s dad beat him!’ Ace crossed her hands and raised her eyebrows. ‘I’m just sayin’— sorry to lash out— but… we’re all kinda… hurt, y’know? Don’t try to deny it.’

‘I’m not hurt.’ Vera outright did exactly what she’d told him not to.

Ace groaned and bonked Vera’s head gently. ‘Sure… I don’t even know why I bothered pushing that…’

Vera shrugged.

‘…d’you think Ekko would be mad if he knew I told you…?’

‘Maybe…’

Ace sighed. ‘Well, whatever. We gotta do his chores, anyways…’

Slowly nodding, Vera’s eyes traced right back to Ace.

They were both looking at each other again.

Ace suddenly chuckled, punching Vera in the side as playfully as she could.

Vera smiled and rung his elbow around her by the neck, rubbing his knuckles into her head.

‘Hey! Stop it!’

‘NO FIGHTING!’ Blue’s voice suddenly boomed, getting closer and closer to Vera and Ace.

‘Yeah, stop fighting!’ A voice paired Blue’s, and it turned out to be QD’s.

Vera pulled away from Ace, standing straight with his hands behind his back just as she did the same— it was the usual pose everyone made when Captain had caught them doing something stupid… it was a habit that everyone caught on, and that Captain did not like.

‘Hey! Can I bother you two?’ Blue added as they stopped at Vera and Ace, QD tailing along right behind them. ‘‘Real important. Favor.’

Ace glared at Vera. They both knew. ‘Chores?’

‘Bin-go.’ Blue tossed Ace some snazzy finger guns.

‘And mine, too!’ QD grinned somewhat maliciously behind Blue. ‘We’re going out thresher hunting. BUT DON’T TELL CAPTAIN!’

Vera chuckled.

Rolling her eyes, Ace felt in the mood for subpar sarcastic commenting. ‘We don’t need to. He definitely heard that already…’

‘Sure, we’ll take your chores. You just gotta give us something in return.’

‘Uhm…’ Blue tapped their chin and glanced up at the clouds and the sails in thought. ‘…like what?’

Vera also pondered this.

‘A… some of your treasure…? Your cool sticks?’ Ace suggested.

‘No way! I’m not gonna let you have any of my sticks. Those are my special sticks… I dug ’em holes and buried them an—‘

‘We don’t need the details.’ Ace gave Blue a hand to talk to, raising an eyebrow and shaking her head. ‘Just some of your treasure, then.’

Vera perked up. ‘And a cartography lesson?’

More thought ensued in Blue’s thoughtless (meditative) head. ‘Hm… sure. Treasure I can do— but I can’t teach cartography.’

‘Don’t you know it…?’ Vera stared at Blue, now doubting every map they’d drawn.

‘Nope. ’Can’t know cartography. You can only do cartography. It is an unmasterable art. How are you to create a meaningless imitation that the Gods—‘

‘Wasn’t Rex the one who taught you cartography?’

‘Nope. I mean— yes. I can talk to him about it.’ Blue suggested. ‘Get him to teach you. He’s pretty good.’

QD giggled from behind Blue. ‘Who taught Rex, then?’

‘Captain.’ Proclaimed Blue, hands on their hips as they tilted their head up.

Ace turned to Vera.

…

‘He must be really good at cartography,’ She added in a whisper full of awe.

‘Welp! I trust my chores are in good hands.’ Blue clasped a hand onto Vera’s shoulder. ‘You too, Ace.’ Their other hand clasped onto Ace’s shoulder. Now, they looked like they were leaning in intensely, about to tell a spooky story or scream really loudly. None of it happened, but Blue felt like it would, so they gave the two an intense stare equal to the intense, made up scenarios. It held as they spoke. ‘Take care. Bye.’

QD grinned wide as Blue returned to a normal, cheerful smile, and skipped off the ship. ‘Bye!’

Vera waved to QD, and Ace did a tiny salute.

‘…let’s finish these chores, then…’ Ace sighed. ‘Lots to do!’

‘At least we won’t have chores tomorrow. Captain’ll find out… and that’ll be the reward.’

‘Pfft. That’ll never happen for me.’

Vera blinked.

‘C’mon! You know I’d never let it.’

…

…

…