Chapter Text
Meat or candy, John. Meat or candy?
You blow out a long breath, the kind that puffs out your cheeks and says ‘I’m deliberating’. Then you shrug, because the two plates are just that— Colorful candy and pungent blood glimmering in sunlight.
You know you haven’t lived much on Earth-C, but it strikes you that you haven’t been outside too much, either. The hummingbirds and fireflies of the park dance in the afternoon breeze. Then, an especially odd and unrecognizable grub flutters to the edge of the plates, where candy and meat almost touch.
Unthinkingly, you squish it. That is, after all, what you do to bugs. Calliope and Roxy both stare as you bring back your hand, and on your open palm there’s a sticky stain. It’s red, like the sugary syrup of candy melting in the sun. It’s red, like the blood of raw meat, slowly congealing in the sun.
JOHN: i really don’t know what to do. it feels like i’m doing...
JOHN: sort of EVERYONE a disservice.
JOHN: ‘not going’ is also sort of choosing you guys, and dave and jade and
JOHN: BLUHHHH!!!!!!!!
ROXY: ohmygod john r u ok???
JOHN: i thought that was candy! or meat juice!!
JOHN: that was gross!! i licked a grub!!
ROXY: hehe
ROXY: u just squished it silly
JOHN: bluhhhhh...
CALLIOPE: perhaps some more conventional food woUld help yoU get the taste out of yoUr moUth?
JOHN: bluhh...
JOHN: i dont wanna put anything in my mouth right now.
JOHN: bluhhhhh
JOHN: even really filling and heavy looking meat or really sweet and light looking candy
JOHN: i ate a bug...
ROXY: its not the end of the world
ROXY: prolly
ROXY: soooo
ROXY: wat r u gonna do?
You look at Roxy— really look at her. Calliope is unreadable, with her inexpressive skull face, but Roxy has the Strider impenetrable wall look on her face. She is, as he often says, Dave’s mom, so it’s not hard to see the resemblance.
You imagine choosing Earth-C; choosing to throw yourself into living again. You imagine that look sliding off Roxy’s face, and revealing a relief from a shared choice of each other. Of her, of Jade, of the friends and family whose relationships have slipped away from you. It’s been the better part of a decade.
You imagine choosing Earth-C; choosing to zap away and fight again. You imagine the chaos of paradox space, and the anguish you’ll endure for all the people here, for— what was it Rose said? Canon. What’ll this place even be if you leave Lord English out there?
You really don’t want Lord English to exist, but you really don’t want to fight him, and you really don’t want to fight for your life. It’s selfish. It’s true. Isn’t that why Calliope and Roxy are here? Isn’t that why Calliope said your decision being influenced would be bad?
You contemplate the idea before you’re even done deciding it’s an option. Un-existing him without fighting. He’s already there in paradox space though. Unless you figure out that missing puzzle piece. You purse your lips and feel tacky sauce of grub smear on your teeth.
JOHN: what if i get rid of lord english before he does all this stuff?
JOHN: like how time travelers are supposed to kill baby hitler!
CALLIOPE: there is one issUe there, john.
JOHN: no after you
JOHN: well, you know.
CALLIOPE: yes, i do.
CALLIOPE: but where woUld yoU go?
JOHN: zapping always takes a focal point
JOHN: but i dont really know much about lord english
JOHN: there has to be some point in time between caliborn being a big asshole and a bigger, assholier-asshole.
ROXY: i dont think u shld call him that. he has a learning disability i think?
CALLIOPE: yoU can’t get rid of him, thoUgh. he’s—
CALLIOPE: ahem.
CALLIOPE: HE IS ALREADY HERE.
JOHN: i know, i know. but...
JOHN: what if my retcon thing, like
JOHN: lets me un-ALREADY his HERE?
JOHN: he’s a time player, right? and retcon beats time players, it’s like rock paper scissors, sort of.
ROXY: that sounds rlly risky
ROXY: but its really brave john
ROXY: where will you start tho???
JOHN: well i’ve had two seers telling me the right path...
JOHN: but so much of it is all
JOHN: ugh!!!!!!!!
It’s hard to describe. You run a hand through your hair, feeling the tangles part from your fingers. The tacky stain seeming to cling to your hand settles into your kind of greasy hair like gel.
Lord English has always been bad, but he’s never been something to fight. Because “he’s already here.” Or, rather, “HE IS ALREADY HERE.” Whatever.
The problem is, all his actual influence has been shitty insidious side effects. All of the pain he’s done your friends already happened. Charging into Paradox Space to kill him won’t change that.
You open the letter Rose wrote. Your tongue pokes out of your mouth as you read, tasting the tacky grub viscera on your lips. The letter is written in the shaky hand of a sickly woman. The plan is to get all the humans and then appear at the end of Caliborn’s game session.
JOHN: how does he get out?
CALLIOPE: hmm?
ROXY: ?
JOHN: “8ut he could never use it without altering its nature. Meaning he could only use it once.”
ROXY: (damn how r u doin that)
JOHN: the juju that gave me my retcon powers...
JOHN: is also caliborn’s macguffin weapon thingy.
JOHN: if i retcon to fighting him...
JOHN: he’s going to use it on me, and vriska will use it on him in the big fight.
JOHN: why does killing him matter if he’s already here?
JOHN: why is dave and his stupid legendary downgrade sword the only thing that can hurt him!!
JOHN: i hate paradox space i hate paradox space i hate paradox space i hate paradox space i hate paradox space i ha
ROXY: shoosh its ok
ROXY: so what, paradox space is doing more weird cycle stuff. who cares thats like all p-space does
JOHN: right.
JOHN: but still!
JOHN: BLUHHHH!!!!
CALLIOPE: why did yoU lick it again!!!
JOHN: my hand being all sticky is throwing me off!
ROXY: pfffhahaha
You shove your palm against the soft, warm, splendorous grass, and rub vigorously. It’s far too soft. Your hand is still all grubsauced up.
You shove it out of your mind, and think as hard as you can. You’re a little out of practice with all of the cycle paradox stuff; you always left really understanding it up to your Seers. There was Terezi, and now Rose is giving you the direct route. Maybe there’s a way through the darkness without light. Maybe there’s a way forward without logical footprints to walk in the path of.
You wonder, staring at the red smear across your palm, who the seer of the Trolls’ Pre-Scratch session was. On Predessor, or whatever the planet’s dumb name was.
JOHN: i have to go back to before everyone got all screwed up by paradox space garbage and cyclic time lord nonsense.
JOHN: because i care about all of you a lot.
ROXY: what abt u?
JOHN: i guess i’ll
JOHN: ...
JOHN: either it works out, and i zap back when i’m done
JOHN: or this is retcon-doomed.
JOHN: that shouldn’t happen though
JOHN: seers are really helpful passive classes.
JOHN: but so am i!
JOHN: so i’m going to figure it out.
JOHN: and i’m going to save everyone!
ROXY: and un-fuckin ALREADY his HERE!!!!
ROXY: woo!
ROXY: i believe in you, john
JOHN: ...
JOHN: thanks.
JOHN: and sorry for not eating, callie
CALLIOPE: it’s qUite alright, john.
CALLIOPE: yoU had grUb instead. lots of trolls do that!
CALLIOPE: and it’s certainly more strange than meat or candy. a strange, brave food for a strange, brave choice ~_u
You stand, and your picnic is over. It’d be socially off-kilter and generally nonsensical to sit back down. This is plainly obvious, but you take note of it because you’re done here. You might be done on Earth-C. For now.
Roxy and Calliope both stand too. They share a glance where they both seem shocked. Roxy gives a shrug and a sad smile. And then they look at you, and you realize that you’re all just sort of quietly standing around. Roxy nearly tackles you in a hug.
ROXY: bye, john
CALLIOPE: best of lUck, john!
You pull away from Roxy, staying in touch but leaning apart to look at her. This whole hug is making you feel a lot of things— Not just what you missed before, and what you didn’t choose outright, but the responsibility you’re shouldering for her. You feel a little choked up, like you’re about to cry. Based off the past few years, you won’t manage it, but you tip your head down anyway.
Saying bye is hard. And you really hope it’s not bye, even though it sort of is.
JOHN: i’ll see you later.
You look at Callie as you rise into the air, already gathering wind to blast off back home and gather your things.
JOHN: W3 M4K3 OUR OWN LUCK
The wind roars around you as you fly, and in moments you’re back in Salamander Village. Even if you weren’t used to a bird’s-eye view, the sight of your cube-shaped white house would stand out among the trees and the pipes.
Wind skates along the street before you touch down, humming along the pipehomes and rattling your mailbox. Your feet meet the sidewalk a moment later, and you walk up the front path on foot. No matter how long it’s been, flying into your house has never been a habit.
With a sigh, you shut the door behind you and look around the empty house. You frown at the mess and the lack of swelling climactic feelings. You wash the dishes in the sink, take out the trash, and brush your thumb over your Nick Cage collection. You put your Con Air CD in your sylladex. Then you look across the lifeless room, again.
You could write letters to everyone, but it’d probably be strange. You haven’t seen Kanaya or Dirk and Jake or Jane in a year, probably. Your closer friends and your sister, maybe. But you’re not sure what you’d say to them. And this isn’t goodbye. You won’t let it be.
You don’t even bother with pen and paper. All your love and all your thoughts of them will be what you use to zap to somewhere you can spare them the pain.
>John: Zap.
JOHN: BLUH! this sucks.
Love doesn’t really put you anywhere specific. You’ve warped into Con Air enough that it’s stopped being funny. You’ve also zapped into nothingness when you tried to picture your vague love. You zapped to Rose and Kanaya’s wedding when you tried to use theirs as an example. Now you’re back in your house all over again, pressing your fingers into your temples and screwing your eyes shut.
JOHN: c’mon stupid retcon powers!
JOHN: do something this time!
JOHN: i want my friends to be safe and happy
JOHN: why can’t love be enough for once!
JOHN: i want to save them.
JOHN: even if i have to go on a stupid quest.
JOHN: even if i have to suffer for their sakes.
JOHN: i’ll bear the burden.
JOHN: i’ll suffer for them.
JOHN: ...
JOHN: .....
JOHN: FUCK!
You zap.
Like every other time you zap, your feet aren’t on the ground when it happens. Unlike every other time you zap, wherever you are has abnormally strong gravity. It feels a little like you’re wearing a heavy vest— Which is why you trip on air and fall like a dope despite being levitatey and a God of wind.
You catch yourself before you make some crucial error like falling on your face and breaking your glasses the moment you zap somewhere relevant. Your palms thump against musty old wood; the floor of some old shed or unused building. The light is dim, enough that it takes you a moment to note how odd it is that…
JOHN: is this *blue wood?*
Your query goes unanswered, because suddenly you are being kicked very hard. You tumble across the room, smack your face on a creaky old blue-wood chair, and break your glasses.
???: Ho+w Did Yo+u Get Here?
JOHN: ow!
JOHN: shit, my glasses!
Your vision is splintered. One lens of your glasses is cracked in spiderwebs that are impossible to see through, and the impact has them askew. The intact lens lets you see the floor very clearly, but that doesn’t help you when you turn to face the barely-lit room and see jack shit.
There’s footsteps creaking on the wood, and a leather boot is in front of you. You try to right yourself, but before you can, a hand cracks across your face. Your glasses fall away, their clattering not-quite masking the whisper of a blade being drawn.
???: I Asked Yo+u A Questio+n Stranger.
???: It Is In Yo+ur Interest To+ Take Me Serio+usly.
The voice is familiar, in the chittering-chuffing pronunciation all trolls have. You might call it an accent, or a dialect, but every troll has an accent, in a sort of individuality that is very hard to describe. You don’t think about it much. Her words are all measured and firm, just like Kanaya. It’s different in some ways, and definitely older. She sounds grim, and she’s missing the sarcasm she got from Rose.
Your racing thoughts are interrupted by the cold metal at your throat. It prods your chin up, and you can only see a blurry shape of jade and darkness with piercing orange eyes. Your mouth opens, but you don’t know what’s happening, so you don’t really know what to say.
???: Please, give him a m9ment.
???: Y9u d9n’t kn9w where y9u are at all, d9 y9u, stranger?
???: Do+n’t Tell Me Yo+u Expected This.
???: I didn’t.
JOHN: i can’t really see so i don’t think i have any idea at all where i am.
JOHN: so how i got here is really vague.
JOHN: i mean, i did the zappy thing. but i guess you don’t know i can do that?
A second set of boots comes closer. You wait very nervously, but the figure becomes visible as they lift a small lantern. It shines with artificial white light that paints the room in dramatic light.
The first figure is wearing a jade dress, with a ratty cloak over her shoulders and well-worn boots on her feet. She still manages to look quite elegant. Her horns look similar to Kanaya’s as well. You can’t really see the hook-shape, because everything is still very blurry, but the hair-shaped blob is the same. The blade at your neck is small, a little more than a foot long.
The second figure is wearing a dark cloak and simple clothes. His horns are smaller and redder. He’s short, but still has to look down to see you. He holds the lantern high, light shining over not-Kanaya’s shoulders and painting his thick, calloused hands. His free hand pushes his cloak aside, where a handle is attached to a very curvy weapon.
???: It’s n9t a tr9ll. Perhaps *this time* we try getting al9ng first?
???: It Is A Po+werful Psio+nic.
???: Ho+w Did You Appear In A Place Where Minds Sho+uld Be Weak And Dull?
JOHN: oh i’m not like a troll psychic person haha!
JOHN: it’s more like magic.
JOHN: actually, the zappy thing is
JOHN: OW OW OW
Not-Kanaya is getting very tired of your wandering bullshit. They’re far too weird and hardcore to like it. Really, you should stop thinking of her as anything like Kanaya, because you’re pretty sure this person has never heard of Sburb or Sgrub or whatever. This person, you think, is a true Alternian, and has never left this planet’s soil.
???: Yo+u Sho+uldn’t Lie To+ Me No+t-Tro+ll.
???: Wait.
???: N9t-Tr9ll, where d9 y9u 6elieve y9u are?
You screw your face up and think. Weirdly strong gravity, trolls calling you not-troll, blue wood, and a world that might not have Sgrub. Or is it before Sgrub? It’s hard to tell.
JOHN: am i...
JOHN: i’m on alternia, aren’t i?
???: Yes, unf9rtunately f9r y9u.
???: Where did y9u c9me fr9m?
JOHN: that’s kind of complicated.
JOHN: i guess the easiest way to put it is:
JOHN: i’m from another dimension.
???: Why have y9u traveled here then...?
The reddish one leans closer, voice quivering with excitement. He’s close enough that not-Kanaya has had to shuffle aside, and he’s kneeling down to eye-level with you.
JOHN: i’m trying to stop a demon guy from being born.
JOHN: but the zappy thing kind of uses a
JOHN: subconscious focus?
JOHN: i’ve had other people use foresight powers to tell me where to go...
JOHN: but this time, i had to figure it out on my own.
The two trolls look at each other. The blade shifts away from your throat, but it lingers at the edge of the lantern’s light, still drawn. The reddish one smiles as he gets closer.
???: Y9ur alien magic relies 9n pr9phets?
???: *I’m* a seer of my people.
???: I think y9u were drawn to me!
???: I see visi9ns 9f a w9rld that d9es n9t suffer as this 9ne d9es.
???: May6e what I’m seeing is a w9rld with9ut this dem9n!
JOHN: maybe...
JOHN: but wherever he appears is always bad.
JOHN: so i’m not sure how you’d see a world without him before i showed up.
???: Why Wo+uld Yo+ur Appearance No+t Be Part Of The Visio+ns?
JOHN: the zappy thing is kind of...
JOHN: ...
JOHN: well i don’t understand it really.
JOHN: but it basically rewrites reality.
JOHN: in other words, i’m not supposed to be here.
JOHN: visions and stuff don’t really work because i’m not here until i am.
JOHN: does that make sense?
???: Yes.
???: No+.
???: 6ut what I see is an Alternia with9ut strife, culling, and 6rutal rulership.
???: It is a free Alternia, without 6l99dcaste 9ppressi9n.
???: It is n9t a perfect w9rld, 6ut it is safe. It is happy.
JOHN: wait a minute.
JOHN: alternia without all the bad stuff...
JOHN: does it have, like, the civil servant higher castes?
???: ...Yes.
???: Are y9u a traveler fr9m my visi9ns?
???: Is a 6etter Alternia really 9ut there?
JOHN: i think a better alternia is *before.*
JOHN: oh, right, it was *beforus.* heh. what a dumb name.
JOHN: so, this is another stupid convoluted thing.
JOHN: ...
JOHN: i know trolls have different reproduction and familial dynamics and stuff, it’s still sort of confusing to me.
JOHN: but i know you sometimes have ancestors who are just like you.
???: The Co+ncept Of Ancesto+rs Is A Wiggler Myth.
JOHN: maaaaaaaayyyyyyyybe.
JOHN: the one girl i knew who was really into her ancestor basically just took all of her worst traits actually.
JOHN: but!
JOHN: i think *you’re* the ancestors.
???: Excuse Me?
???: She’s right. It’s imp9ssible.
???: I’m... N9t a6le t9 c9ntri6ute genetic material.
JOHN: because your blood is mutant for a troll, right?
JOHN: wait put down the sword i’m sorry!!!!
???: Explain Yo+urself Immediately!
JOHN: your descendant also has red blood!!!! which is normal for humans like me, but super rare for trolls!
JOHN: i actually think it’s because you two are the only red-blooded trolls ever.
JOHN: we’re all kind of clones made of ghost goo.
???: WHAT THE FUCK ARE Y9U TALKING A69UT!?
JOHN: haha oh that’s more like him!
JOHN: you’re karkat vantas’ ancestor!
???: ...!
JOHN: and i bet you’re kanaya maryam’s ancestor!
???: ...!
JOHN: you share signs, right? i can’t see yours because i don’t have my glasses. :(
???: I d9n’t have a sign.
???: I d9n’t 9ften go by my name, haha.
???: 6ut y9u kn9w it anyway.
???: I guess I really have a descendant...
???: I am Kankri Vantas.
KANKRI: This is Por—-
???: Maryam is fine.
JOHN: that’s so cool!
KANKRI: And y0u...
KANKRI: An alien psi9nic wh9 kn9ws 9f 9ur names, futures, and distant w9rlds...
KANKRI: what is y9ur name, Traveler?
JOHN: i’m john egbert! :B
MARYAM: Ho+w Do+ Yo+u Kno+w Our Descendants John Egbert?
JOHN: haha you can just call me john.
JOHN: and your descendants...
JOHN: well, they played this game that created my universe.
JOHN: some stuff happened and they didn’t get to enter it, so instead we spoke through messages and worked together to create a new universe for all of us!
JOHN: and that’s where i came from.
MARYAM: Yo+u Did This Thro+ugh A Game?
JOHN: it’s kind of a game and a weird dimension...
JOHN: it’s also how reality reproduces!
JOHN: and i sort of stumbled into the power to move beyond it
JOHN: that’s why i said i’m not supposed to be here and i rewrite reality.
JOHN: but if you’re kankri then i’ve met...
JOHN: well another convoluted thing.
JOHN: but basically you’re not the first version of yourself.
JOHN: and you have memories of that version!
KANKRI: S9 this 6etter Alternia... This 6ef9rus...
KANKRI: It existed, f9r a time, and my visions are 9f my 9ther self’s life there...?
KANKRI: ...
MARYAM: This All So+unds Far-Fetched.
MARYAM: Alike To+ A Wiggler’s Fantasies.
JOHN: i know it’s hard to believe...
JOHN: but i don’t know much about this stuff!
JOHN: like i said, i didn’t mean to come here.
JOHN: i meant to come to a place i could undo lord english’s influence before he arrives.
KANKRI: L9rd English w9uld 6e this dem9n y9u sp9ke 9f, then?
JOHN: yeah...
JOHN: he’s an unkillable time demon guy.
JOHN: and a total asshole!
JOHN: and because of his time stuff he’s sort of—
JOHN: ahem
JOHN: HE IS ALREADY HERE.
KANKRI: but if you can rewrite reality...
JOHN: :B
JOHN: i’m gonna un-ALREADY his HERE.
JOHN: ...
JOHN: it’s just that i don’t know where to go to do that.
JOHN: there’s too many weird details and complicated time loops involved!
JOHN: he’s created at the end of the universe and then travels back in time, so...
JOHN: he has to make the universe end, but he can’t do it himself?
JOHN: UGH!
JOHN: apparently mine was destroyed because you can’t escape the miles.
JOHN: but in order for that to happen, our universe needed to get cancer.
JOHN: in order for THAT to happen, karkat had to be worried about winning the game...
JOHN: in order for that to happen, all the super tough lusii had to get prototyped...
JOHN: and for that, there had to be a horrorterror here.
JOHN: which i guess might be because lord english is killing all the horrorterrors, so it fled here???
JOHN: you see!!! it’s all just stupid and self-fulfilling!!!
JOHN: i hate paradox space i hate paradox space i h
KANKRI: SH99SH THE FUCK UP!
JOHN: :o
MARYAM: :o
KANKRI: This is all very c9mplicated.
KANKRI: And I’ll say it right n9w: Y9u might be insane
KANKRI: 6ut it d9esn't matter if y9u are 9r n9t. Y9u're here n9w.
KANKRI: Y9u have seen a 6etter Alternia, even if y9u are n9t a its subject.
KANKRI: Y9ur st9ry may 6e delusi9ns 9f an 9vergr9wn wiggler, y9ur v9ice that 9f war6led insanity. 6ut this dem9n 9f y9urs stirs g99d within y9u. F9r y9ur t9m9rr9w, we are allies t9day.
KANKRI: F9rgive Maryam’s hesitati9n. We are n9t s9 arr9gant as t9 turn y9u away, Traveler.
KANKRI: 6UT.
KANKRI: Y9u need t9 understand me. Are y9u listening? Are y9ur r9und human hearing 9rgans attuned?
JOHN: yes.
KANKRI: G99d.
KANKRI: We can help y9u on y9ur missi9n.
KANKRI: And y9u can help us on 9urs.
KANKRI: I’m sure y9u kn9w that my hem9n9maly w9uld have me culled.
KANKRI: 6ut it is a 6lessing. It is a cause for my visi9ns, and the perspective t9 understand Alternia’s cruelties.
KANKRI: I will 6e your seer, J9hn.
KANKRI: I have 6een waiting f9r a sign, and if y9u are red-6l99ded like y9u say, perhaps that sign is y9u.
KANKRI: W9uld y9u help me? If y9u are a str9ng questant, if y9u intend t9 pry away the claws 9f th9se wh9 harm the w9rld.
KANKRI: Y9u speak 9f n9t just fighting the dem9n, 6ut 9f rem9ving him 6ef9re he arrives. 6ecause, I assume, y9u understand his influence is m9re sinister and his r99ts are m9re widespread than his presence.
KANKRI: Perhaps, t9gether, we will pull it all up 6y the r99ts. We will t9pple the p9wers that su6jugglate us.
KANKRI: T9gether.
Kankri takes the sickle from his belt in a slow, deliberate motion. The silvery metal shines in the light. When he brings the curve of the sickle to his palm, and slides it across the meat of his hand, red blood beads, glistening in the light like grubsauce in the sunlight of a planet you may never see again.
You reach out, hand bared upwards as if to receive a blessing, or a gift, or the apple from a tree. Kankri’s sickle is sharp, and it cuts your hand in such a gentle motion that you don’t feel the sting. There’s only the throb of pain as red blood spills over the stain of grubsauce on your palm. It blends together into the red of something new. A promise that makes your head spin with the gravity of its terms: A revolution, to breathe freedom into Alternia.
Kankri sets the sickle at his belt. He cradles your hand with his uninjured one, with his cool alien skin rough like sandpaper against your wrist. He shuffles closer, and sets the cut in his palm against yours. Your fingers gently squeeze at his calloused hands. His squeeze back at your tender skin. His blood is cold, but alike to yours.
You wonder if this bond is a blessing, a gift, or a forbidden fruit.
You smile at The Signless as your blood flows together. Together. You will bring freedom and bonds. Not of pity or hate, but of something thicker.
You’re still on your ass, but he’s kneeling there, ahead of you. Your blood blends with that of the only other redblood on Alternia. You half-remember Karkat’s furious rant about troll religion, of something more significant than clown horseshit. You know there was a figure of kindness, called the Sufferer, called the Signless. You know your friends don’t take him too seriously, Earth-C’s pantheon being what it is. The Signless? A childish hope. Yet he is here, his hand is in yours, your blood is intertwined. You wonder if you can compare to him. Your fleeting godhood distant and fading, like the breeze, while this mortal remains for millenia.
Following the spirit of the moment and the swelling sense of something like honor in your chest, you shift onto your knee, matching Kankri. You take a breath and set your shoulders, and you are taller than him. Across time and ancestor-descendancy, Vantas is still short. You lift his hands with yours, and bow your head to kiss his knuckles.
JOHN: together.
-
What the fuck.
No, seriously. I’m not even going to bother with hiding. You think I’m not here just because everything else is in the hands of some autistic teenager? We’re not in the shitty vaccum-seal guarantee, we’re not canon, what the fuck are we doing, exactly?
If John ‘you’ Egbert fucks this up, he’s going to kill everyone. SkaiaNet bonus content you might’ve missed, yes, but if he ‘pulls the roots’ too hard, he’ll retcon retcon, and everything dies.
On the other hand, he left without saying goodbye. Sure, ‘bye’ is usually a waste of words, but in this case, it would’ve been nice to tell him how stupid this is. Or maybe fix this idiot’s timeline outright. Calliope’s right— I’m not supposed to. But the alternative is that everyone dies. Real tough call, there.
Fuck.
Meat or candy, John. And you ate a fucking bug.
Incredible.
None of the events of this Earth-C actually matter. In fact, John might alter them. Maybe he’ll fuck with Vriska’s past and she’ll never become the kind of person who kills ghosts to find treasure. Maybe he’ll stop troll jesus from dying.
I toss the old projects aside. I don’t need any of them, or any of the plans for the other Gods.
Either we’re dead, or what John’ll see when he comes back is the sharp end of my sword.
Most of all, I want to do it myself. So I’ll stick around.