Magical Girl Mechanical Heart

65. Lightbringer

Huh. Luna is alive. And they're… mad about this? Or something? Whatever."Can you fill up the tub now?" I ask.

"Luna's… alive?" Anath says quietly, sounding like she's on the verge of tears.

Okay. No water in the tub then. That's fine. I'll just lie here naked in the world's most uncomfortable reclining chair.

"Weren't you guys just using her?" I ask. "I'm surprised you care."

"Of course not!" Anath insists. "She was one of us! I thought she… I'm really glad she's okay."

"Are we talking about the same Luna here?" I ask. "The one that was basically bleeding teal for a before everything went down?"

"I… a week…?"

I sigh. I don't know why I'm bothering to try to hold a conversation. None of it matters.

"Can you just fill the tub?" I ask. I'm getting really antsy about it all for some reason.

"O-oh, sure!"

I listen to the clicking sounds of her claws pattering across the stone floor, various noises of exertion and movement making up the entirety of my knowledge of everything going on. I hate it, but thankfully the hate doesn't last any longer than anything else.

"Here goes!" Anath announces, and all of a sudden a barrel of frigid water is dumped on my head, starting to fill the tub beneath me. The cold is more of a shock than anything unpleasant, my body reacting to the sudden submersion with an oddly invigorating mix of relaxation and elation. It feels

I arch my back and stretch what's left of my legs, ignoring the alien sensations of how misshapen everything is and how my new spines scrape against the bottom of the tub. Not even that is going to ruin the fulfillment of this I've had ever since I became the monster I am. I don't care, don't to care, about literally anything else. The water washes over me, and it's wonderful, and it's not quite because this tub is too small, and my tail (my goddamn is too big, and it's just not But it's better than before. So much better than before.

I let a satisfied shiver run down the entirety of my body. Even outside of all this monster stuff, I didn't realize how I felt just from not really bathing myself. I curl up so I can dunk my head under the water, digging my clawed fingers into my scalp to try and pull the gunk and sweat out of my hair by any means necessary. Some part of me tries to force my mouth open to breathe, but that seems stupid so I resurface first. It's… odd. My outside is all wet, shouldn't my inside be wet too?

Ha. Fuck it. What's the worst that could happen, I drown?

I dunk my head under again and throw caution to the wind, sucking water down my throat and directly into my lungs. The coughing fit I expect never comes, though. It's an odd sensation of cold weight, the water's density tugging on me from the inside, but it doesn't feel bad at all. With my mouth still closed, I clench a muscle I never knew I had, feeling tiny flaps of skin on the sides of my ribcage open up for the water to push through. It's the weirdest thing I've ever felt in my life, but once it's over I feel like I just got up in the morning and managed a great big yawn to wake myself up.

What this? Why is my body like this now? What happened to me? I take a few more deep breaths of delicious, life-giving water before surfacing again, though when I try to take a breath of air, suddenly feels like drowning. Huh!? Oh god, please tell me I can still breathe air, what's happening? What's going on?

Following unknown instinct, I grab the sides of the tub and lift my torso up into the air, opening my gills to let the water in my lungs all spill out. I can take a breath, close my mouth, and cough the rest of it out of my gills before sealing them back up so I don't have a hole in my airway. I could keep my mouth closed and breathe air through my gills too, though I get the impression that would get very uncomfortable very quickly as they inevitably dry out.

"…You okay?" Anath asks. "You panicked for a second there."

"I, uh, yeah, I think I'm fine," I say, letting out another small cough. "I… can breathe water."

"Oh! That's really cool!"

"I guess?" I agree, not entirely sure if it is. I mean, objectively it's just bad, right? More proof I'm a monster. The creature from the black lagoon, here to cause terror and horror to the human race!

"Okay, well um… hmm. I was going to help you with your hair, if you want, but if we put soap in the water I'm not sure it would be a good idea for you to breathe it?" Anath says, which… huh. I wouldn't have thought of that. But did. That's very embarrassing.

"I can breathe air instead," I say. "I could definitely use some shampoo."

"Oh! Um, great! I have a lot," Anath perks up. "I need a lot, haha. Conditioner, too. I have to make sure my fur stays soft! Who wants to be around someone covered head to toe in bristles?"

"I'm fine with just washing it," I say. "As long as it's clean, it's fine."

"Well, leave it to me!"

"Sure," I agree.

I'm ready for it this time, but it still catches me a little off-guard when Anath splats something into my hair and starts kneading it around, lathering it all up and picking apart the tangles with surprising swiftness. This is… weird. I need something to do.

"Do you have normal soap, too?" I ask. "I should probably start washing everything else."

"Oh, yeah, of course! Um, let's see… here you go!"

I gently grab the slippery bar of scented fat out of her shampoo-covered hands, picking away at the… it feels like at least a dozen hairs that came with it? I guess those are probably hairs. I haven't combed in months, so I imagine she's pulling out a gazillion of them with every stroke over my scalp. I briefly imagine her deciding to gather them up and keep them in a jar or something before deciding that I am, as usual, better off distracting myself from any thoughts at all. The fact that my creepy, violent stalker is gently washing my hair doesn't even make my top five biggest problems right now.

That list is, in order: Minerva, Minerva, Minerva, Minerva, and Minerva.

Okay. Stop thinking. Use soap. Maybe I can wash these thoughts away along with the grime. I lather up my hands, pinching the webbing now growing between my fingers and briefly marveling at the sensation before moving onto my arms. My skin feels different now. Sort of leathery, sort of rubbery? It doesn't feel like I have scales, so I guess my skin is more like a whale or dolphin's? Or at least, that's my best guess. I've never touched a dolphin before, but they always have that weird-looking texture when you see them in videos. The way the light reflects off of it just looks… well, rubbery.

So what the hell am I now, anyway? Pointy teeth, spines, dolphin skin… I'm just some incoherent marine animal chimera. I guess that makes sense, though. I'm a monster, not a mermaid. I even still have my legs, if only technically.

Running my hands over them as I wash up is… unpleasant. My legs have shrunk down to maybe half the size they were before, and at the ankle they just taper off into curved points, more like than feet. There's no way in hell I could walk on them, assuming I could even support my weight at all on these tiny legs. The little points are sharp, but I probably couldn't attack anything with them unless I'm already grabbing them. Is that what they're supposed to be for? Am I a cat now, too, intended to grab onto prey with my front limbs, flop onto the ground, and kick the shit out of it?

Wait, stupid question. I doubt I'm to be anything. That would imply whatever transformed me was like… thinking and aware and stuff. But if the Dark World has any thoughts of its own, they're obviously nothing but madness. Maybe that's why I'm such a mess. My body was designed by a mad, artificial deity, the god of curses and annihilation. Perhaps if I pray at their altar of ruin, I can turn myself into a kaiju and finally get rid of this last bit of sanity torturing me.

…Heh. I guess Melpomene was right. We have a lot in common.

"Okay!" Anath announces. "I think we're ready to rinse off. I can get a bit more water to pour on you, or—oop!"

I ignore the rest of what she's saying and dunk my head underwater again, resisting the urge to breathe soap as I run my hands through my hair again. yeah, that feels much better. God, I was so gross. I guess I'm still gross. Washing my tail is going to be a pain; it's enormous.

My. Fucking. Aaaaaaaagh!

I quickly surface, shaking out my hair a little as I do. Bluh, it's gotten long again, though I guess that's actually the one thing about how my body has changed. My tail, which is way too long to actually fit in the tub with me and therefore is just kind of flopped out the end all uncomfortably dry, is a bigger problem. I curl it toward me, hating how it is, how my proprioception already knows I'm doing it right, and I grab onto it with one hand while I search the tub for wherever I happened to drop the soap.

"Here, I got it," Anath says, and a moment later she's pressing the bar into my hand.

"…Thanks," I mutter, and then I get to spreading the soap down the length of my tail.

It's… odd. But it's not actually as difficult as I was expecting. It's just like washing an extra-huge leg, except I don't even have to shave it. It's just a big 'ol cylinder, mostly, with just the occasional crystal growth breaking up the smoothness. It only really gets complicated with the fin at the end, though even that I was kind of expecting to be delicate with how thin it is, and once again I'm wrong as hell. It stands up to all my scrubbing without a single issue. Anath fills up another bucket to help me rinse everything off, and once it's all over I give my tail a few experimental flicks, marveling at how it feels.

I… would definitely rather have working legs, of course, but at least I could probably hit somebody with this hard enough to make it hurt.

"O-okay!" Anath says. "There are some towels over here, and I can get you some of my c-clothes to borrow. Um, if you want! We just don't really have much else right now, so…"

"Can I just soak in here for a while?" I ask.

"Oh, um, sure!"

"I'm doing that, then," I say. "Being a fish is bad enough without being a fish out of water."

"Hehe!" Anath giggles, and I scowl.

"That wasn't a joke."

"Oh, sorry…"

"I wish you were this apologetic about smashing up my brother's store over and over," I grumble. "Kinda late for all this, aren't you? If you actually wanted to help me this whole time, you should have done it back when it actually would have made a difference."

"I-it's not too late!" Anath insists. "It's not too late. You're alive."

"No, I'm not," I answer. "Not in any way that matters."

Anath doesn't say anything for a while, and all I hear from her direction are a few soft noises and sharp breaths. She's been sad since I got here, so it takes me a while to realize she has started to cry.

"Don't say that," she sniffs. "Don't. It's not too late. It's

I sigh, not really having anything to say. She doesn't understand, and I never expected her to. After all, it's just Anath.

"S-sorry," Anath says quietly, and I'm not sure why, so I just ignore it.

Whatever. The water's still nice. I close my eyes (not that it makes any difference) and just do my best to relax in the tub, wondering if hot water would feel better or worse. I'd warm water would be even more relaxing, but this is already so nice I'm not sure changing the temperature would really do much.

Man, I'm exhausted. Maybe I'll just take a nap. Normally that would be a bad idea in the bathtub, but I can breathe underwater now, so it's not like I'll drown. I mean, getting soap in my lungs might be bad, but ultimately I don't really care that much. So I just… let myself… nod off…

…

"—in here?"

Huh?

"Well, she didn't want to leave. I've been watching her! T-to make sure she's okay."

Is that Anath?

"Mmm. Well. It would be best if we can get her on a similar sleep schedule to the rest of us, and I have things to do. So I am going to wake her up."

Where the hell am I? It feels nice.

"Oh! She just woke up now, actually. Hi, Fulgora!"

I open my eyes, which doesn't seem to work, and what finally wakes me up and gets me to remember everything that happened before I passed out. Right. Dark Rebellion. Castle. Bath. Okay. So this is all real, huh?

"…Hi," I greet back. Minerva wouldn't be rude. But I'm not her. She's dead. Should I even try?

"Dry off. Get dressed," Nanaya orders. "I found you clothing that should fit in spite of your alterations."

"I'll do one of those things," I allow, regretfully lifting myself out of the bath and starting to crawl out of the side hands-first.

"What do you mean you'll do of those—excuse me!?"

I flop completely out of the tub, my body splatting against the ground and probably spattering Anath and Nanaya a bit. It doesn't hurt much; only the spots where I have crystal growing out of me are sore enough for the impact to affect. I do my best to raise my torso, arching my back to achieve some measure of dignity as I hold a hand out.

"Gimmie the clothes," I say.

Nanaya scoffs and hands me what feels like a towel.

"I'm not drying off," I insist, slapping it aside. "I'm a fucking It's uncomfortable. Gimmie the clothes."

"You can't just go everywhere sopping wet," Nanaya insists.

"Yeah? Watch me," I counter.

"No," Nanaya answers, and magic coalesces around me, peeling the heavenly layer of wetness off of my alien skin. I'm left cold and shivering on the floor, my hands patting desperately against the ground for any lingering remnant of that life-giving elixir.

The bathtub! I quickly turn around, intending to leap back into my refuge, but Nanaya catches me by the arm. I hiss, spines splaying outward, trying to stab her, to get her off me and retreat back to where I belong, but the horrid growths attack only air, even as I manage to splay them to either side and wiggle them around.

"Control yourself!" Nanaya snaps. "Do you to be a monster?"

What a stupid question. I already am one. Still, there's nothing I can do as Nanaya's many arms manage to pull me away from my prize and carry me into an odd chair. Surprisingly, I actually fit in it. The backrest is little more than a series of semi-taut straps, which allow my spines to slip between them and have room to stretch.

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"Water!" I yearn regardless, trying to leap off the seat.

Nanaya growls. "Calm yourself.

The forceful command manages to drill its way through my wild flailing, and I freeze. I've never been anything but a soldier, and as much as Minerva was the leader of her squad, I've always been more of a grunt, brainless but for the rules and orders drilled into me. It's pathetic that a former enemy could command me so, but I have already been shamed well past the point of caring.

"Fulgora," Nanaya says, repeating my name again, helping to ground me. "You have the most advanced mutations of anyone I've ever seen. Each of us struggle in our own ways with what has been done to us, but you in particular are going to need to remain aware of how you are different, and which aspects of the changes you can and cannot live without."

"…Huh?" I ask.

"She's saying you have batteries filled with hopelessness strapped all over your body, and that's bad for you," Anath says. "Also your brain was probably messed with a little."

Oh. Huh.

"So Dark World corruption real," I say. "I knew it."

"Ugh. No. We're not speaking of anything the Preservers would refer to as 'Dark World Corruption,'" Nanaya disagrees. "It is more that the mind is merely an element of the body. Whatever magic has managed to change us so thoroughly has done so in a manner that somehow creates a fully-functional organism at the end of the process. Your body has not merely been changed on the outside, but reworked at a fundamental level on the inside as well. And the nervous system, the endocrine system, system within you—it's all interconnected. The idea that you could remove someone's brain, put it in a jar, keep it alive, and have it be the same person… it's entirely made up. You are of you. You are distributed across the entirety of yourself. The new instincts you feel do not require the lingering will of the Antipathy to have infected you with their thirst for revenge."

"I," I say slowly, "did not understand any of that."

"So be it, then," Nanaya says. "Obedience is a more than adequate substitute for understanding regardless."

I can't help but laugh at that. Finally, something we agree on.

"Fine. Give me the damn clothes," I say.

"Do you want any help putting them on?" Anath offers.

"Hell no," I say. "But… I might help putting them on. Actually, What can I even wear?"

"Skirts and backless tops," Nanaya answers. "The biggest challenge was finding something that might work as underwear for you. Ultimately, I had to commission. With luck, I will be able to pick it up tomorrow."

"I am wearing a skirt," I insist. Minerva loved skirts. I'm not Minerva. Though… I to wear skirts, back when my first team was still alive. Maybe I could tolerate them?

"Fulgora, if you have any earthly idea how you could possibly wear pants I would consider getting you some," Nanaya says. "Until then, a skirt will cover what propriety demands. Wear it."

"Fine," I grumble. I suppose it's true; my legs are little more than glorified claws now, barely resembling their original forms. Even if I find some way to wear pants, they'd look absolutely ridiculous.

I slip and slither the fabric into place, the elastic waistband still safely held up by my hip bones despite them being largely warped beyond recognition. A straightforward, thin-strapped bra is next, and finally a shirt that is little more than a single strip of fabric draped around my neck and down my chest, tied in place by a string at my lower back.

Despite my prior apathy, I must begrudgingly admit I find it more comfortable than nudity. Something about Nanaya's words must have sunk in on some level (or maybe it was the sinking into the tub that did it), but the fact that this is my body now—my has finally started to click in my mind. As disturbing as it all is, I can't deny that it's moving all the extra muscles on my back to flex my spines. It's flaring the fins on my tail. It's me. No one else. I'm alone in here now, so there's no one else I could be.

I still wish it was wet, though.

"Hello, girls. Everything going alright in here?" Melpomene asks. Her voice doesn't shock me. Out of everything in this castle, she's always the easiest one for me to find.

"I have finally begun to domesticate our newest stray," Nanaya says flatly, and then I feel my whole world jolt as someone pushes my chair forward, which… rolls easily. Wheelchair. Right. Because I can't walk.

"Wonderful!" Melpomene says brightly, as if I were not just compared to a fucking raccoon. "Oh, that new outfit looks lovely on you, Fulgora dear."

"I'll take your word for it," I deadpan.

"And Nanaya has done an excellent job styling your crystals, as always," she continues, either oblivious to or uncaring about my jab.

"Yeah, that's great, I'm super happy with how it turned out," I brazenly lie. "So now what? Are we going to go… darkly rebel, or something?"

"How eager! Well, if you're itching to get started, I see no reason to delay."

"Whatever," I say, shortly before my bowels interject with an alternative plan. "Can I go to the bathroom first, though?"

"Oh, er. Of course, darling," Melpomene allows.

"Great. You're helping," I say.

"I'm… helping?"

"I need you around to see anything!" I snap, reaching back to slap the handles on my wheelchair. "You don't have to just take me there and stand nearby."

As much as I'd rather do it myself, I'll take the embarrassment of company over the embarrassment of accidentally pissing on the floor or something. My huge ass tail is going to make the entire process awkward anyway. I'm probably going to have to sit sideways or something.

…Or at least so I thought, but once Melpomene pushes me to our destination, I quickly learn that the method of relieving oneself here in the Dark World already accounts both for the presence of tails and the of indoor plumbing. Amalthea (or Thea, or whatever) assembled some kind of to like, delete our shit from reality or something. Which effectively means I'm taking a dump in a chamber pot, but if I slip and fall in I fucking die. What the actual hell?

"You won't actually Melpomene dismisses my concerns when I bring them up. "You're too powerful for that. It'll just sting a bit."

"Weren't the Antipathy like some super-advanced magical civilization!?" I ask. "Why do we live in a medieval stone castle? Why don't we have plumbing!?"

"There are cities and plumbing infrastructure in other fragments, but none of them still Melpomene answers. "Each fragment is only a small section of the Dark World, and the separation of them all was a cataclysmic shift. This castle is ancient compared to most Antipathy architecture, but it has managed to stand the test of time. It's That's more than we can say for most buildings."

"I'd bet anything that you just wanted a castle," I grumble.

"Alright, you caught me," Melpomene shrugs smugly. "I like living in a castle. Is that so wrong?"

"I guess not," I allow.

"Exactly, darling," Melpomene says. "Now. Feeling up for another trip outside?"

"Sure," I agree, crawling back into my wheelchair. "Why not?"

At least I can feel my surroundings in those choking mists. I'm not trapped. I'm not Then again, does it matter if I'm useful anymore?

"Excellent!" Melpomene says cheerfully, grabbing my wheelchair and pushing me along. I'm already starting to hate that, but what else am I going to do? It's not like I can navigate by myself.

With Melpomene around, though, it isn't quite so bad. Whatever aura her body gives off that emulates the mists serves to guide me, showing me the edges of the halls and giving me advanced warning whenever my chair is about to take a sudden turn. The vague blob of anger I know to be Nanaya shifts into focus when we approach the woman, her six arms now present as smudges in my awareness. No longer will they be like invisible spider fangs, lashing out from the darkness and yanking me deeper into the nest without any prior warning. All day, they have done as they please with me. It's only around Melpomene that I can feel safe from them.

"Are you sure it is wise to take her out so soon?" Nanaya asks.

"It's just a little excavation trip, we'll be fine," Melpomene dismisses. "Honestly, I suspect she'll be a natural at it."

"Now isn't appropriate for you to be out there for days at a time," Nanaya says. "We don't know the degree to which we've been compromised."

"Oh, very well," Melpomene sighs. "Six hours, at most."

"Four," Nanaya bargains, crossing her arms.

"Four," Melpomene agrees. "I will see you then."

Melpomene continues wheeling me though the castle, eventually taking me to the grand entry hall Minerva tried to negotiate with her in so long ago. She stops the wheelchair at the top of the stairs and hums to herself, reaching down to pick me up again.

"Careful," I say. "I'm poisonous, apparently."

"I'm sure you'd never do anything to hurt me, darling," she answers serenely, which… I have no idea how to respond to, so I just focus on keeping my weird new bits in check as I am awkwardly lifted up into someone's arms for like the fifth fucking time today.

Stupid fucking legs. I indignantly claw at the air a little, the tiny, malformed limbs as impotent at expressing rage as they are at walking.

"Not to worry, darling, the trip won't be the time-consuming part," Melpomene promises. "We'll have you down before you know it."

"…Sure," I agree, hating how relieved that makes me feel. What does it even matter? It's not like I'm going to suddenly be able to walk when I stop getting carried.

"Away we go, then!"

She lifts off into the air, her wings spreading out behind her but most likely having very little to do with her flight. Soon, we're down the stairs and out the door, the rush of mist surrounding us immediately helping me to relax. I can again, or at least something close to it. I can feel the ground pass below us. I can feel the monsters flying through the air around us. I can feel the storm churning in the skies above us. The Dark World is vast, and it is lonely, but it is not empty.

"There's still a hole inside you, you poor dear," Melpomene muses to me as we fly. "I've been thinking about how to help you, and well… it seems obvious the only way to get rid of a hole is to fill it, yes?"

Fill… what? The damage to my soul? How could my soul ever be anything but damaged without my better half?

"Fill it with what?" I ask anyway.

"A purpose," Melpomene answers. "A reason to be."

"I don't need anything like that," I answer.

Melpomene laughs.

"That's all the better, darling," she assures me, shifting me in her arms so she can ruffle my hair with one hand. "I'm giving you one as a Gifts aren't for things people need. They're for things the people who care for you want you to have."

"Oh," I say, not really getting it.

"The Preservers killed the Dark World, and now they're raping its corpse," Melpomene continues. "It's up to those of us who can see through their lies to save it. To it. I've been learning how. You're going to help me."

I say nothing, focusing just on the feeling of the mists. They're so here, almost like I'm breathing water rather than air. It's immensely comforting in ways I'm not sure I can describe. Like I belong here.

But perhaps even more than that, belongs here. I can feel it, when I focus. The mist moves with her, moves with as she flies. Even the monsters are starting to gather; not to hunt or swarm, but to Like they're waiting with bated breath.

The mists of the Dark World part before Melpomene's gaze and coalesce around her like a cloak of night. It's something that would be impossible to see, but it's so, so easy to

"Luna said something like that," I remember idly. "That the Preservers were using the Dark World as a power source."

Her arms tighten around me, her body growing tense. The mists writhe, ready to lash out the moment her anger demands it.

"A correct assessment, admittedly," Melpomene agrees. "Every wound the Dark World tries to heal, they reopen to suck out the blood from. But we're changing that. We're fixing it."

"What's the deal with Luna, anyway?" I ask, much more interested in the answer to that particular mystery than whatever Melpomene's rambling about. "She's alive, apparently? And you're mad about that even though I thought she was working with you?"

Melpomene lets out a hiss of air.

"…Are you certain you want to know?" she says.

"Yeah?" I confirm.

"Okay. Well. The person you knew as 'Luna' wasn't a real person at all," Melpomene says bluntly. "We made that up. We forged the identity. There has never been anyone born with the name 'Luna Clio Babbage.'"

What the hell…? How is that even possible? There's no way that… wait, Luna's middle name was 'Clio?' Wow. That's another muse, isn't it? Kind of on the nose.

And… it's certainly true that Luna never talked about her past.

"So who is she, then?" I ask.

"No one," Melpomene answers. "It was the artifact, disguised by yet more Antipathy technology. It acted subservient to us at first, helpful and pleasant and convenient to have around… but ultimately, it intended to betray us from the start. The same thing, I imagine, that it planned with you."

"Luna… was the I gape disbelievingly. "That doesn't make any sense!"

"It makes perfect sense, because it's true," Melpomene asserts. "It's a genius actor, a genius liar. It's a for god's sake. It never gave away a single hint or tell that it didn't intend to. I have no idea what its real goals are, but it's no longer on our side."

So… the whole time, that was Luna? Is how the artifact kept vanishing when it got to Earth? Is why Luna kept sneaking out at night? It was who stole Veritas and Aurora's stones? It was who we fought so many times? Who stole my spells, who hurt the people I care about? Who tried to take stone, and ended up kicking off the fight that ended in Minerva's death?

I don't understand. Why would anyone any of that? I… we worked so hard for her, we were so about her, but she had been the one to do all that the entire time?

It aches. Even through the hole in my soul, it aches.

"You don't need to worry about that, though, darling," Melpomene assures me with another pat on the head. "We'll crush whatever schemes that traitor is up to and take back our world. No one else has any idea of what we've managed to accomplish over the past eight months, and we haven't been sitting idly by."

"What have you been doing, then?" I ask.

She doesn't answer, smugly opting to descend toward what I assume is our ultimate destination instead. I'm not sure what it is she could show me that would be more helpful than just me, especially given how I won't even be able to see it, but… wait.

What the hell?

A certain distance in front of me, there's something… wrong. A of wrong, even reaching from ground to sky. No, even more than that. It descends the ground, and somehow, it ascends beyond the heavens. There is no clear air on the other side of the thunderheads above us, no altitude at which the clouds start forming and the sun shines freely. There no sun here. This fragment of the Dark World ends before any such thing could be reached.

Like the universe itself was once a crystal, but now it has been shattered, the pieces scattered across the realm between realms. I knew the Dark World was like this, I've been here several times before, but this is my first time really it. The first time knowing in my bones that this part of a universe simply and beyond it is… what?

It feels familiar.

It feels like a storm.

"Here we are," Melpomene says, her feet touching the ground. "My favorite spot at the edge of the world. This is where I do my communion."

"Where you do what?" I ask, curling my tail beneath me as she sets me down on a large, flat stone. "Isn't that a church thing?"

"Ha! I'm not sure I'd describe what I'm doing as religious, exactly, but it's not too dissimilar," she says, kneeling down and closing her eyes. Two of them, anyway. Somehow, I can feel the one on her forehead's gaze burning into me.

I don't have much time to wonder what that means, though, as power starts radiating out of her like a miniature sun. I can feel it clawing at me, caressing me, me, though the pain is not unwelcome, so I let the power do as it pleases. The raw disgust has a grip like iron, holding me steady because it would be an unforgivable affront to move against its desires, but hints of several other emotions occasionally quest free to tickle me at their own whims. Her fear pushes my hair out of my eyes, her anger claws at my throat, her sadness brushes reassuringly against my arms, and her desire traces longingly against my hips. It's so overwhelmingly It's all of her, all at once, and I am lost within it. But I was already lost, so what is there to fear?

Around us, the Dark World begins to move. The mists swirl, the monsters rouse, and all at once the dead world suddenly starts to feel With every one of her breaths, the entire atmosphere swells, the pressure rising with every inhale and falling with every release. What life remains in this desolate place is drawn to us, beasts emerging to circle us, some landing nearby and doing naught but stare.

The sheer power concentrated in this area is overwhelming. It's like nothing I've ever felt before, even back when Melpomene and Castalia were dueling to the death. I can feel and smell the sweat beading on Melpomene's brow, the exertion she's going through to gather all of this. Yet the magic is completely undirected. Wild and unchained to any spell, anything she uses it for would be at a massive waste. Wouldn't it? What is all this What could possibly warrant this much raw power?

Melpomene answers before I can voice the question, though. She raises one arm, opens the rest of her eyes, and the power flying off of me, past me, and into the edge of the world. Unrivaled might meets eldritch nothingness and they greet each other in ecstasy, the wall at the edge of the world devouring its offered meal and shuddering with pleasure. And as it does, ever so incrementally, the world expands.

The Dark World fragment The wall retreats, by the slightest, tiniest bit. And, sated by its meal, Melpomene's power blooming inside its stomach, she goes a step further. With both hands, she reaches forward like she's trying to pry open a stuck sliding door, a roar escaping her lips as she finally peels apart the wall at the edge of the world.

Everything cracks, and the storm between universes gains an eye. The center of a hurricane, shaped like a long, seemingly endless tunnel. Melpomene has just two separate Dark World fragments. She has tunneled between shards of a broken universe with nothing but raw

Monsters pour out of the breach, wolves and bugs and birds of prey all swarming toward us, but some part of me knows that not one of them intends to attack. Instead, they pile around Melpomene like a freshly-opened kennel of puppies joyfully leaping at her and playfully nipping at her cheeks or tail. Me, they avoid as if I were a rock, but her? She is like a master returning home to her dogs from a long day of work.

They all compete with each other for attention, but she cannot acknowledge but a fraction of them. A swarm like this would risk the safety of a far larger city than the one I used to protect.

Melpomene stands up and shakes herself off, wiping the sweat from her brow and stretching out the stiffness from her shoulders with a few flaps of her wings.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" she asks me, a wide grin splitting her face. Without any ability to truly see it, it is mostly notable to me for the way it causes the mists to swirl between her fangs. "We'll make the Preservers pay for what they did to it. We'll make sure they can damage this place again. And then? We'll bring it all back. The Dark World will know light again."

I know she's insane, but it's hard for the holes in my soul not to fill with some of that passion.