Chapter Text
The White House was in shambles, of course.
Somehow despite lacking a president and the circumstances surrounding the last one's disappearance, the money to begin rebuilding already existed, procured out of some mystery source. Windows were fixed, trees were replanted, and the reflecting pool was refilled of the water melted out of it.
But one trace remained- a trace that, try as they might, no contracted company could quite scrub clean.
During the battle, the two dogs had blindly rolled around, one of them leaving scorch marks on the lawn with their very unholy presence. Being demonic, these marks defied every attempt to remove them, and would likely remain on that lawn until judgement day.
And somehow, inexplicably, when all was said and done and the two dissipated into thin air to never be seen in Washington again, those scorch marks were left in the shape of letters.
And they spelled three words.
'OR WAS IT?'
One more thing.
A letter Tarot found waiting for her when she returned to the Sandwich Household, sealed with a fancy red crest.
Hey, Pup! Guess who?
I know, I know. You're not too fond of me. I won't pretend I don't understand why, but I promise I'm not just here to offer you a third act Goosebumps twist, some last 'screw you'. That's my player's job, and they're too good at it for me.
I just wanted to offer you a next step. You may have noticed that, despite Dragon's claims to having learned from this, you haven't been freed of your shackles. Sadly, for some people, learning lessons isn't enough. Aesops slide off them like butter, and three act story structures may as well be another language.
But you've helped me a great deal recently. So I'd like to offer my thanks.
You ever hear about a Cosmic Lantern?
We'll discuss details when you next fall asleep. For the time being, as a sign of goodwill, I have a more tangible present.
The Game won't last forever. In fact, if I didn't know any better (I do), I'd say its twilight is around the corner. Make of that what you will.
Ah, but what do I know? You're a good dog, Tarot. I hope you find an opportunity in the future to take off your metaphorical shackles and wear... well, a brand new set of shackles. With a little more pride this time.
Peanut loves you. Show him a little love back.
Your friend,
Great Kitsune
Stored in the envelope alongside it was a bright red strip of leather. It was outfitted with gold buckles, and hanging off the front as a tag was a tarot card carved from green metal. Curiously, she flipped it over. The Wheel of Fortune.
Tarot looked down at her current collar. Not yet.
But someday.