54. No Turning Back (Patreon)

A/N: Hey everyone! I swear these chapters are still supposed to come out on Friday, I'm just... bad at doing that, I guess? I tried weed for the first time on Thursday and it absolutely fucked me up in the worst way possible, so I kinda needed to take a recovery day. Turns out I am an unimaginably wimpy lightweight. Oh, well! You may all rest assured that the horrors of my mind emerge fully sober. Also! Content warning for the chapter! Stop reading if you don't want spoilers. Gone? Okay. CW's for self harm, suicidal ideation, body autonomy problems, gore, and... some intense emotional scenes about personhood, relationships, and abuse. Yep, this one is a doozy. Sorry about that!



The entire right side of Helen's body, starting just below the shoulder, is gone. Well, I shouldn't say gone-gone; it sits a floor below us, leaking blood slowly since no heart is attached to pump it anymore. I'm regrowing body parts for her in its place, sealing up the wounds with new organs and limbs, but I find that it's hard to honestly call any of it Helen's body. Her body was split in two. I'm just… filling in the gaps with something horrific and selfish.

With the aid of the incantation, my spell works its magic at rapid speed, scales blooming out to copy the shell of her missing torso, organs twisting and growing within to fill the inside. A macabre ballet of sick, corrupted flesh twists inside my friend, shaping her into something inhuman. Something comfortable, something right… at least to me. I've never liked humans, have I? I've always struggled to get along with them, to care for them. The maximum number of human friends I've had at any given point has been… what, four? And that number is rapidly dwindling as I peel the humanity away from them as some kind of perverted thanks.

And worst of all, Helen's scales are beautiful. Dark brown with streaks of green, a stunning forest camouflage that's firm and smooth. I love it, I honestly do, and the realization that I love it, the recognition that inhumanity is genuinely beautiful to me rushes into my brain and has to be rapidly slapped aside, locked up, and shoved into a corner so I can continue dealing with this crisis. Helen is still in critical condition, and her so-called 'healing' is far from over.

Even while the torso is still growing, her missing hip and leg begin to twitch into existence as well. Scales unfold into a limb one after the other, blooming down into a fairly-normal knee at first, but all-too-quickly becoming an ankle. No, wait. A second knee, this one reversed. And it is at this point that I start to realize exactly what my spell is doing to her.

The scales crawl up her shoulder, up one side of her face, and I have to shift her head to the side as some of her teeth fall out. Her spine elongates into a tail, squirming as small green feathers perk up along the upper ridge. At the same time, her one mutated leg grows a fully-functioning foot, tipped with claws on the toes. Including one particularly massive, oversized claw that curves wickedly, designed to hook into something and refuse to let it go.

I recall once that I likened Helen to a velociraptor. Not a real velociraptor, since who knows what those are even like, but the pop culture kind, the Jurassic Park kind. The kind that you look at and see the claws, the teeth, the inhuman stare, and you think to yourself "holy crap, this is a terrifying monster that can kill me." So you run away, you lock it out, you drive it off, you fight it like you would fight a horrifying, dangerous monster. But all the while, the raptor expects this, and when your defenses fall and the jaws close around you, it's not just because the monster can kill you in a straight fight. It's because the monster knows you don't want a straight fight, and it is outsmarting you.

That's how I've always thought of her. A monster. A killer. A murderer. But one that keeps winning because everyone remembers her strength but forgets her cunning. Helen is analytical, decisive, comfortable with both her raw power and her capacity to set deadly traps. Whereas I'm the monster who fights on instinct, all tooth and claw and mindless abuse of my natural advantages, Helen is careful. By the time she strikes, it's already too late. What better form for her than this?

…Except, y'know, maybe her own body, or failing that, a body she could at least have some personal influence over. I have no idea if she'll want to be this way. I have no idea how much she'll hate this form, struggle with it, curse it, despise it. Perhaps I've read her personality well, and my subconscious projections will fit her like a glove. But… I doubt it. I'm not that good with people. Too much of this is my projections, fears, and insecurities manifesting physically, taking up root in Helen's body like a horrific fungus. And the fact that it makes her so, so beautiful is its own kind of horror.

Helen's body no longer weeps blood. Her breathing starts to stabilize. She's safe, she's going to survive. But the changes continue, even if they're slower than before. Scales start to replace skin along her right arm, claws piercing out of her fingertips. Sharp, deadly fangs grow into the spots left behind by her missing molars. And to add insult to it all, to further drive home how fucked up my head is for somehow directing all of this, Helen's flat chest—her right breast exposed since her clothing didn't regrow—starts to expand, shaping out into exactly the sort of just-a-bit-bigger-than-your-hand that I find most attractive.

…Just like Alma's breasts have become. Fuck.

Goddess, why would you give me this spell? Why would you give anyone this spell? What's the point of a spell that makes people beautiful if it's so profoundly horrifying? What's the point of a spell that helps people understand me if it also gives them such a good reason to hate me? Magic is supposed to be a gift. It's supposed to be something we love. It's… no. No, fuck you. Don't you dare tell me—

I do love the spell. I know I love it. Sure, I hate it too, but that really just makes the love extra exciting. As the Goddess flows around me, holding me and patting me and telling me it's okay, She regails me with delightful stories of torrential emotions, mixing like warm air with a cold front into a tornado of drama. Lovers killing each other in fits of passion, hated rivals growing close… these are classic stories, to be sure. But the best mixtures stir within the humid container of only a single mind, the internal struggle between the inherent contradictions that exist within everyone. Altruism and selfishness, ambition and laziness, disgust and desire… these impossible coexistences, these endlessly opposing internal forces, they define the sapient life of Her favorite worlds. And when things that do not fit are forcibly combined together, oh how pretty are the sparks that fly.

I shudder, both horrified and enraptured by Her explanation. More contradictions. The Goddess coos, holding me ever tighter. Wanting to never let go. She loves me so, so much. Of course She'd give me a spell to make other people like me. Of course she'd want to indulge my worst tendencies, my most disgusting flaws. At least this time, She reminds me, I am not forcing my will on another out of selfishness. Helen was going to die. Forgiveness is certainly possible, in light of the circumstances. So perhaps I should spare a little worry for my own life? My organs are also leaking out, after all.

…Oh cheese and crackers that's right I miscasted a Transmutation spell. Unfortunately, my first response to being nearly murdered by my own Transmutation magic is to quickly cast more Transmutation magic, which seems vaguely insane. Fortunately, it does seem to be exactly the correct way to reverse the problem. Which… makes sense. My body starts to untwist itself, my still-unnamed self-transformation spell forcing me towards an ultimate, singular form. I note idly that my Transmutation magic actualizes the self, but corrupts others. I guess it makes sense. I am, after all, an Order mage; it is an element invariably given to those who think their way is best.

I heal myself as best I can, undoing the damage the Goddess dealt to my flesh while I, inevitably, also accelerate the changes of my body back home. But I guess I don't have to care much about that anymore. I am officially out as a monster. The box is open and I can't close it again. And that's… nice. It's really really nice, actually. So I guess I don't have to worry as I heal myself up. I can just keep myself and my friends alive, all while apologizing about how fucked up I've made them along the way.

Helen starts to wake up. Here it comes. It was nice being friends while it lasted.

"Helen? Oh Goddess, don't freak out, but I—"

"Hhhhow the fuck am I alive?" Helen groans.

"I, um. I sort of turned you into a monster."

"...What?"

Half-delirious, Helen strains her neck to look down at her body, blinking in disbelief a few times at the lopsided, left-and-right half-monster body, from her heavily mutated leg to her big scaly tit.

"...What!?" she repeats.

"I, um, sorry. Sorry Helen. You were bleeding out and I guess missing multiple vital organs and no one else could save you so I just, um. I had to, but…"

"You had a spell like this the whole time!?" Helen asks, sitting up and flexing her right arm as it slowly grows a plumage of green feathers. "Woah. This is fuckin' wild. I was sure I was a goner, no order mage I know could have saved me from something like that."

Probably good Ida can't understand her. …Though that would still be the least of my worries.

"You've got a weird-ass healing spell, but it's better than dying," Helen shrugs, struggling to stand up on two very different legs. "We should probably clear the area. Goddess's tits, this is funky. And I have tits! Hannah, why do I have tits? What the fuck, these are so weird."

"Um," I say, having absolutely no answer that makes me not seem like a creep. Because, y'know, I am one. I'm somewhat distracted from the question as Helen stands up and her pants, having also been cleaved in half, immediately flop open and reveal the space between her legs. Helen swears and grabs them with her human arm, shoving them back into place.

"Man, you should've told me you had something like this," Helen tells me. "Seems like it could make a person way stronger and faster if it wasn't so… halfway? Which I assume is due to the whole 'me only having half a body' at the time."

"It's… not really a spell I like using," I tell her. "It's kind of a last resort."

"Why?" she asks, limping over to the others, her second knee dragging across the ground as she tries to use it like a heel. Something she'll need to get used to, I guess. "Is there some horrible cost? Are all my wounds gonna come back when the duration wears off?"

Well, fritter. This is it.

"No," I say. "Helen… it's permanent."

She stops and stares at me, the relief of survival slowly sinking away into fear.

"...What?" she asks. "Hannah, no, it's not… Transmutation magic is about change, it's not… it's never permanent. Not on other people."

"I've named the spell, Helen." I know how my spell works, Helen. "Your human half is going to change and shift over time until your whole body is feathered, scaly, sharp-toothed monster. You're going to have to learn to use new legs. A tail. And… maybe a diet change. And… you'll just be like that. Forever. I'm sorry."

Her slowly-growing tail swishes behind her as she stares down at herself.

"...Oh," she says quietly. "Okay. Yeah. I guess… I wouldn't tell anybody about a spell like that either."

"Yeah," I agree. And then, because I have to say something else, I have to apologize again, I continue. "I'm sorry. It's a wretched spell, but it was the only way I had to—"

"To save my life," she cuts me off. "Yeah. I get it. I… I don't like it. But I get it."

We're in earshot of the others by now, who are all staring at us in silence for various reasons. Sela seems mildly interested, judging by the fact that it bothered to turn its head our way, but as usual it declines to speak. Ida just doesn't understand what we're saying, but she also knows exactly what I did. She watches with an impassive expression, though her hand stays tight around the handle of her gun. Kagiso, meanwhile, is confused. About what, I'm not sure, but she watches us with the bewildered expression of someone who thinks a conversation has passed her by completely.

"Well, we're still in enemy territory," Helen announces, resuming her limp back to the others. "Let's move."

"We still need to find Alma," I remind her. "Someone has to know where she—"

"I know where she is," a sudden voice speaks from nowhere, and I leap nearly five feet in the air, activating Spacial Rend in a panic. All of a sudden, I notice a group of three people behind me, two women and a man, all human, barely fifteen feet away. Everyone else responds with similar surprise, Ida suddenly bringing her weapon up as Kagiso rapidly crouches down to grab some rocks.

One of the women is Madaline. All of them are Chaos mages.

"Peace," Madaline says, raising her hands in surrender as she takes a step forwards.

"What are you all doing here?" Helen asks, narrowing her eyes.

"I just want… to talk to my friends," Madaline insists, a lazy smile stretching up her face.

"...Maddie, they probably just killed a bunch of our friends," says the female mage I don't recognize. She's tall, probably six feet or slightly above, but she seems a little too young to have properly filled out that height, all knobbly knees and gangly arms. Her hair is cut around jaw-level, and she glances around with instinctive paranoia. Her elements are Chaos and Space. "If you're gonna insist on coming here you should at least acknowledge that."

"I made sure… our friends were smart enough to run," Madaline hums reassuringly. "Run or hide… is what they needed to do… when the time came."

The young man with them glances at Madaline with a frown, but says nothing. Chaos, Light, and Transmutation. Three elements, huh? He has buzz-cut hair, and he's closer to Madaline's rather short height than the other girl's. It's easy to see he's the most physically fit of the three by a longshot, but his muscle is all taut and lean, built like a runner or a swimmer. His gaze on his ally only lasts a split-second before it returns to us, almost unblinking in intensity.

"Did you say you know where Alma is, Madaline?" I ask, terrified out of my mind at the prospect of meeting multiple Chaos mages, but priorities are priorities. If they wanted to ambush us with anything other than words, they could have easily done it.

"If Alma is the name of the pale girl… who speaks a foreign tongue and hides herself in a strange edifice made of soul… then yes," she nods. "She fled… into some nearby caverns. We had people keeping watch on her, although they have… certainly been recalled due to the crisis you've caused. She is, to my knowledge… safe. Though she may be getting rather hungry and thirsty, by now."

"Hannah, this is obviously a trap," Helen scowls.

"This whole conversation was obviously a stupid idea," the tall Chaos mage grumbles.

"It's not," Madaline insists to both of them. "Making allies is never stupid… and a trap would defeat the point of it."

"But why are we making allies with our enemies, Maddie?"

"If I hated people… who killed for survival… I would not have many friends, Thea," Madaline smiles. "Follow me, Hannah."

She turns and starts walking away, the other two Chaos mages glancing nervously between her and us before they start to follow. After only a moment's hesitation I start to scuttle after them.

"Okay, wait, hold on," Ida says. "Can you explain what the fuck just happened? Who are these guys?"

"Um, they're Chaos mages in the cult," I tell her. "I talked a lot with one of them while I was imprisoned, and… now she's here to lead us to Alma for some reason."

"And you're just following her?" Ida asks. "Stockholm syndrome much?"

"If you have a better way to find Alma, I'm happy to hear it," I snipe back. Ida sighs.

"Y'know what, fine, okay. But if they try to speak a spell without someone warning me first I am going to shoot them in the head."

"I'll, uh, let them know," I say. "Ida says to warn her before you invoke the Goddess, or she'll attack."

"Of course," Madaline nods.

"At least you have one sane friend," Helen sighs, limping along. I'm tempted to crawl up her back like I normally would, but it feels… wrong to do it now. Like I'm not allowed to use her any more than I already have. I continue scuttling along the ground, my small legs rushing to keep pace.

Madaline makes sure to walk just slow enough to more or less force us to catch up, though, shrinking the distance between our groups as we approach a stonerot-lined crevice in the rocky earth. The sickly green fungus is quite a bit more terrifying up close, just because it's easier to see how much of it there is. It's one thing to be told that stonerot is devouring the pillar, to see the evidence of its spread from who-knows-how-many miles away, but it's another thing entirely to see fields of it up close, eating away at the world too slowly to see but quickly enough that the evidence is everywhere. The stonerot is thickest inside little dents in the ground, and after a moment's thought I realize that it isn't because stonerot prefers to grow in divots, it's merely that it's making them.

"Rot detected," Sela chirps. "Warning: do not allow any to contact this unit's frame. If any rot contacts this unit's frame, clean it immediately. Failure to do so could cause permanent damage."

"Don't worry Sela, I'll keep you clean," I promise. It clicks an affirmative, which I personally find suspiciously close to a thank-you. It's been weirdly nice since I rebuilt it. I guess thinking about it, getting strapped to a table and disassembled would probably be unimaginably terrifying. …But do Crafted even think that way? I guess they might, since they were made by humans.

"Wait, that fucking Steel One is alive?" the tall Chaos mage—Thea, I guess Madaline said her name was—gapes. "They just carry it around with them?"

"It is… as I told you," Madaline hums. "Hannah makes friends… with her enemies. Is that not how the two of you met, Helen?"

"Yeah, I'm not having this conversation with you," Helen grunts. "I'm all for Chaos mage solidarity when the situation calls for it, but you're just using it as an excuse to get what you want. Fuck all of you."

"I've been… completely honest with you," Madaline frowns. "If you want to be a hero… there's no better path than saving the world."

"Hey, check out this cool thing I found," Helen deadpans, shifting to hold her clothes together with one arm and pulling out a stone sculpture from her one intact pocket. It depicts a young woman, possibly a younger Helen, holding her hands over her ears and screaming, clutching the sides of her heads hard enough to draw tiny pinpricks of blood. Madaline blinks at it silently for a moment, and then simply turns away to continue leading us to our destination. Huh. I'm tempted to ask Helen what emotion that sculpture destroys, but I have absolutely no desire to talk to her for some reason.

…Wait. Oh gosh, what the heck, Helen? That is an awesome spell. …I think I'll express my jealousy later, though. Our group follows the crevice until it starts to open up into a thin, canyon-like cave, a crack in the world that looks like someone tried to peel apart the Pillar until it split open. A carved pathway leads downward, unnaturally smooth as it sinks into the depths. We follow it until the crack closes up above us, natural light blocked away in the underground depths. The cave is still lit, though, a combination of seemingly-natural glowing stones and artificially-installed wall lamps. The color of the light is inconsistent; one moment we're walking through a glow of dull, amber orange, and the next minute it's a beautiful teal. It's calming, in a way. It's quiet down here, and we're alone with our thoughts.

At least, we're alone until we come across a pair of perforated corpses floating in midair.

"What the fuck?" Ida whispers, raising her gun to fend off whatever completely unknown threat caused this.

The corpses are two dentron, a man and a woman, the centipede necklace around their necks revealing them as cultists. They float in midair, completely motionless, the dried blood around their bodies and pooled on the floor below them outlining some kind of invisible structure. Multiple holes in their bodies, each as thick as a fist, seem to be the spots by which they're held in midair.

"We're here," Madaline announces, and walks forward to knock on the air. Her knuckles impact something solid, and light ripples out from the impact zone to reveal the door to Alma's magical house, blocking off view to the corpses inside.

"Go away," Alma's voice calls out from within. "Go away!"

Uh. Holy cannoli, this is pretty bad, isn't it?

"Alma!" I call out. "It's me! I'm here to save you!"

"Hannah!?" Alma shouts, seeming even more distressed. "No! No, no, no! Stay away! Just leave me here!"

"Fuck that! Quit being a dumbass and get out here!" Ida snaps.

"No! Go away!"

Oh Goddess, she sounds like she's having a panic attack. She's not in a good mental state right now.

"...Ida, could you open the door for me?" I ask.

"Was gonna even if you didn't ask," Ida grunts, opening the door and stepping inside. I smack one leg against the wall, though my tiny size means I can't get enough force going to show the whole room. In response, Ida just raises her gun and shoots the wall, visibility blooming from the impact point in an instant, immediately revealing everything. The entry hall of the house looks relatively normal at first, with a beautiful tile floor and the multicolor-speckled walls I've come to expect from Alma's soul house.

Except that the beautiful entry hall ends only a half-dozen feet in, rapidly transitioning into a macabre spike trap, unable to hide itself back in the walls because of the bodies clogging the mechanism.

"I think this… is where we will take our leave," Madaline hums. "I hope… you can help Alma. If you could warn your friend that we will be incanting something as we depart… I would appreciate that."

"Yeah, okay," I say absently, staring with horror and hunger at the bodies. I haven't eaten a good meal with this body in a long time. "Ida, they're going to incant something and leave."

Oh, wait. They're leaving. I should say something.

"...Y'know Madaline, if you want to help me beat the Goddess at her own game, I could really use the assistance. You don't have to go back to the murderous, torture-happy cultists."

"Fuck you, Founder's Kin," the tall Chaos mage growls. "I don't even know why we're bothering with you. They're not fucking cultists. They're the closest thing we have to a family."

"She's right, Hannah," Madaline agrees. "Besides, the easiest way to foil the Goddess' plans… is to simply kill you. Next time we meet… that is likely what we will be doing."

"Then why aren't you now?" I press. "Come on, Madaline. There has to be a better way than this. We both know that. Let's find it."

"I will look in my own way… little apocalypse," Madaline hums. "You look… in yours. In the meantime… I'd appreciate it if you could help our kindred spirit. This Alma… is a lot like us. Don't you think?"

"I… yeah," I agree, swallowing awkwardly. "Yeah, I guess she probably is."

"Send her home, then," Madaline smiles. "We all deserve… a good rest. Goodbye, Hannah."

"Where are you going?" I ask.

Madaline brightens up at the question, turning to stare with mirth at her tall companion. Thea sighs, rolling her eyes at some joke I don't quite get. Even their hitherto-silent male companion cracks a smile, bumping Thea lightly with his shoulder.

"Anywhere But Here," Thea incants in answer, and all three of them vanish, leaving us alone with the corpses.

And, somewhere deeper in, my girlfriend who made them.

"Hey, so like… the person who made this is your friend, right?" Helen asks as she and Kagiso enter the house. "Could you give me the rundown on her spell?"

"Uh, yeah," I confirm. "She's… Barrier and Pneuma? So I guess she makes a big house out of her soul somehow. The walls are all magical, so I can't cut them with my spells."

"Hmm… I might be able to," Helen muses. "But we probably shouldn't try. Barrier and Pneuma combos tend to be the sort that backfire if broken. Y'know, if your own mind is the substance your wall is made out of, and then your wall breaks…"

"Oh gosh, yeah, let's not do that," I agree. "I do not know why there's a giant slam-spikey-walls-together trap here, though. She's never made anything like that before."

"Hmm. She sounded pretty far away," Helen notes. "Do you know the spell's name?"

"Uh, no, I don't think she's ever named it."

Helen carefully steps forward, examining the bloody trap hallway in front of us.

"...Not until now, by the looks of things," she muses.

Ah. Yeah. That could explain it.

"I take it we can't just politely ask her to remove the death traps in our way?" Helen asks.

Oh, right. I mean, it's worth a shot.

"Alma!" I call out. "We're coming to get you!"

"Don't!" she insists. "You'll get hurt!"

"Sorry, it's sort of non-negotiable. So is there any chance you could guide us around the traps or shut them off or something?"

"Shut them off?" she says, her throat letting out a humorless laugh. "As if I could ever stop hurting people. That's all I do, Hannah. Hurt people and get hurt. That's why I have to be alone."

"Okay, well, I think you're having a panic attack and you might feel better about this later, but only if we get you back home and feed you a good meal," I shout back. "So just sit tight and we'll be there soon!"

There's a pause.

"...Please don't," Alma says, so quiet I can barely hear her. "I don't want to fall in love again. I'm so stupid when I'm in love."

Oh. That… that hurts. A lot. But I guess if she wants to dump me over the whole 'teleporting her alone to a hostile universe' thing, that's extremely fair, honestly. I definitely deserve it.

"Any luck?" Helen asks.

"No," I answer. "I don't think she can control the traps at all. She might be even more stuck than we are."

"Oh, ouch. Okay, then we just have to figure out what triggers them and how to avoid getting squashed," Helen shrugs, limping away from the trap. "Shame the murderbot can't move, a working Steel One Death mage could probably just walk right through this. Hmm… well, how durable is your Order mage friend? I assume she's not a healer, since you had to fuck me up so bad."

I mentally grimace, staring at her mutant dinosaur leg and the way she's still trying to put weight on it like she has a heel.

"...She can heal, she just couldn't heal you," I explain. "You've gotta walk on your toes, by the way."

"Huh?" she asks.

"With your new leg," I clarify. "You're walking on it wrong. You have two knees, and pressure goes on the balls of your feet. The leg is… hmm, I don't actually know the word in Middlebranch, but in English it's 'digitigrade.' It'll still be weird while your left leg is normal, but you should get used to walking that way."

"...Oh," staring down at herself again. "Right."

"Did I just hear you say 'digitigrade?'" Ida asks, a smarmy grin on her face. "Did Valerie teach you that word?"

"Uh… yeah, I think so, now that you mention it," I confirm, thinking back.

"Heh heh heh heh," Ida chuckles. "Called it."

Well, I don't know what that's about but I doubt it's important right now.

"Ida, do you think you could be the one to check out the traps?" I ask. "We need to figure out how they're triggered and how to avoid them and stuff."

"Huh," Ida frowns, rubbing her chin. "Okay, sure, I can probably do that. But only on the condition that everybody else has to try to beat me to it. That way I can flex on you."

"...Really?" I ask.

"Yeah, really," she says seriously. "Why, you scared to compete against me? Come And Have A Go, If You Think You're Hard Enough."

Oh. Oh! Right, she's literally better at doing things if she's competing for it. I quickly explain the plan to everyone, and with us all working together (by competing independently) Ida manages to figure out the trap. It's… time consuming, especially because my spatial sense—which would normally be perfect for finding traps hidden in the walls—can't detect Alma's magical soul house at all, leaving me stuck with mundane sight like everyone else. By the time we bypass the first we've already found a second trap just beyond it, this one even harder to deal with because it's not half-open from having corpses embedded in it.

"Stop it," Alma wails. "Just leave me alone!"

"I'm not going to do that," I call back. "Not while you need help."

"Of course you fucking won't!" Alma snaps. "You never left me alone. I kept trying to push you away from me but you wouldn't take the fucking hint. You got me talking about my books, you took me on a mall date, and I knew it was a shitty idea, I knew it was just going to ruin both our lives, but I didn't think it was going to be this bad!"

"Okay, got it," Ida announces. "The pressure plates are here, here, here, and here. Just don't step on those tiles, and we're good."

I quickly translate for everyone, and Kagiso supports Helen as we shuffle carefully across, possible answers to Alma's words churning in my mind.

"Why did you think you were going to ruin both our lives?" I ask.

"Because that's what I fucking do, Hannah!" Alma moans. "Do you just not notice how fucked up I am?"

"I… saw a few red flags maybe, sure," I confirm. "But they're the sort of things people need help to work through. And I wanted to help—"

"Don't. I can't be helped. And I don't want you of all people trying to help me!"

"Okay, stop," Ida orders. "There's another trap here, everyone get looking."

"I fell in love with you so fucking fast," Alma sobs. "It took like, one day of having someone actually pay attention to me and actually care. I was addicted to you instantly. That's why I avoid people, you fucking idiot! I can't stop my stupid brain from doing this. And I can't stop myself from ruining it whenever I do, either. I'm insane, Hannah. I don't even mean Jet, I mean I literally can't stop myself from repeating the same mistakes over and over and over. I don't have self-control. I don't have agency. And I don't deserve it."

"Okay, step where I step," Ida orders.

"Don't say that, Alma!" I cry out. "You're a good person, and—"

"I'M NOT A FUCKING PERSON!" Alma screams.

And then, quieter, she continues.

"That's why I let you abuse me."

My mind goes blank, pain and terror clawing away inside my brain. W-what? I…

"It's okay, Hannah," she says. "It's fine, Hannah. Don't worry about it, Hannah. Don't you get it? I had to say those things, because I couldn't lose you. I couldn't stop being obsessed with your attention. I'm not healthy, Hannah. Stay away from me. I'll just get everyone hurt. At least when I'm alone I only hurt someone who deserves it."

Oh, no. No, no, no, no. What have I done?

"I… I'm definitely starting to feel like I deserve it," I say, utterly horrified. But I'm a fool for being surprised. Twisting Alma's bodily autonomy like that, not to mention bringing her here in the first place… I just. I'm so disgusting.

"See?" Alma says. "I'm still hurting you."

"Hannah, come on," Ida presses. "Keep up. You're the one that has to actually send her home."

"I… but I…"

"Yeah, yeah, you'll traumatize her horribly," Ida gripes. "And she can go complain to her therapist about that after we get her home. Come on."

Right. Right, yeah. Okay. Solve the problems I can solve, clean up after my own mess, and then… well, if never seeing her again is best for her, I'll have to live with that.

Alma's horrific trap mansion only gets worse as we head deeper in. Not in the sense that the traps get more numerous and more dangerous, only in the sense that the house gets… well, worse. Manifested in an underground cavern, the cave structure often overlaps the soul house, creating terrain that we have to either avoid or let Helen carefully obliterate a path through. The rooms between the hallways get more elaborate and painful, too. On the wall of one room hangs a giant mural, depicting close to a hundred different copies of Alma viscerally murdering each other to a backdrop of lava and brimstone. Though instead of gore, Alma's bodies bleed nuts, bolts, and metal scraps. There's nothing inside her but a broken machine. Ida has to yell at me again to get me to stop looking at it, and I barely manage to turn away with a shudder.

When we finally spot Alma, her situation seems similar. Smashed statues of herself lie in pieces around the room, her knuckles bloody and raw. It's unclear if she even notices us; she's just sobbing uncontrollably in the middle of the room, hands over her face. Ida keeps her eyes out for traps as we approach, but the room itself seems safe.

"I'm sorry," Alma chokes quietly. "I'm so stupid. I shouldn't have said any of that. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Ida groans, shoving her gun back underneath her jacket as she approaches.

"Stand up," she orders.

"What?" Alma asks, stiffening as she turns to stare at her. "Ida?"

"I said stand up," Ida repeats, holding out her hand. "Quit wasting my fucking time."

Alma flinches, looking like she's about to panic even harder, but she still shakily reaches out to take Ida's hand and lets herself be dragged to her feet.

"Sorry," Alma mutters again.

"Why do you keep fucking saying that," Ida asks, "if you don't even want to be forgiven?"

Alma says nothing, and Ida pushes her lightly towards us, guiding her and forcing her to rejoin the team. Hesitantly, I scuttle forwards, trying to psyche myself up for a dimensional travel spell.

"Woah there, Hannah," Ida grunts. "As much as I'd love to yeet her ass to another dimension, your spell to do that makes you pass out, which might really fuck us over considering the bad guys know where we are. Worse, Alma's spell doesn't end until she walks out her own front door, right? So what happens if it's still active when she ends up at Valerie's place?"

"…They both get trapped in a magical death castle," I realize. "Right."

"Yeah. So let's get her out of here, set up a safe, defensible camp somewhere, and then send her home. That work for you, Alma?"

Alma just shrugs helplessly, seeming completely drained.

"Good enough for me," Ida grunts, and forces Alma forward again. "You step where I tell you to step. Try to hurt yourself and I will not be happy."

I hate how Ida is treating her, but who am I to talk anymore? And it certainly works, it gets Alma through the traps without any incident, and before I know it we're back in the cave, Alma's mind palace disappearing behind us. Alma shudders, her tail starting to twitch again, twisting around to snarl breathlessly at us.

"There you go, that wasn't hard, right?" Ida asks, pulling an energy bar and a small canteen of water out of some of her many pockets. "Eat and drink now. Can you do that while you walk?"

"Yeah," Alma confirms, taking the items.

"Good," Ida nods. "Hannah, could you ask your extradimensional friends if they know any good places to make camp around here?"

"Ida wants to know if you guys know anywhere we could safely camp nearby," I repeat for her.

Helen staggers towards us a bit, still struggling with walking on her toes with just one leg. She and Alma glance at each other, and then Alma glances down to me, as if actually recognizing my tiny spider-body for the first time. Helen claps Alma on the shoulder, giving her a small, lopsided smile before addressing the rest of us.

"...Normally, I'd hide in a cavern just like this one," Helen answers. "But considering how close we are to enemy territory, we'd better head back to the surface and find a different one."

I translate that for Ida and she nods.

"Alright, let's get going, then."

We carefully backtrack through the caverns, on constant lookout for ambushes at every corner. None arrive. The cult seems to have fled to lick its wounds but that's no reason to drop our guard. Helen, Ida and I may have torn through most of their fighters like tissue paper, but that might just mean they're going to be all the more ruthless when they eventually come for revenge.

I stay silent for the trip, hanging around Kagiso mostly just to keep my distance from Alma. I keep watch on her, though, my anxiousness never letting me stop freaking out over how horrible of a person I am. So it's easy to see the subtle yet inevitable changes, now that she's outside the bounds of her spell: her ears start to perk up instead of droop, her steps get surer and more deliberate, her tail stops coiling protectively around her and instead seems to try to stay as far away from her as possible. …And, of course, she starts looking around in absolute bafflement regarding everything that's going on.

"...What the actual fuck?" Jet whispers. "Ida, did you get us high?"

"Nope," Ida grunts. "This is real. Sorry."

"...But what's… how… oh. Oh, that is a big tree."

"Yeah, I've been trying not to look at it," Ida admits. "We've kind of been in a life-or-death situation since the moment we arrived here and I figure if I let myself get enraptured by the scenery I'm gonna end up having a complete fucking breakdown before we're totally safe. And, y'know, can't have that shit."

"Oh, fair enough," Jet nods, peeling her eyes away from the impossible magical planet-tree. "That makes a lot of sense for sure. I definitely feel like I'm gonna have a freakout if I let my mind linger on anything for too long. ...Is that Hannah?"

"Uh, yeah, I'm Hannah," I confirm, waving a forelimb. "Hi. And also sorry."

"This is your fault, then?" Jet asks.

"Like usual, yeah," I confirm.

"Heh. Yeah, like fucking usual," Jet agrees. "Can we get back?"

"Yeah," I confirm. "Or, uh, at least I'm pretty sure I can send you back."

"How reassuring," she deadpans. "What day is it?"

"On Earth?" I ask. "Sunday."

"Motherfucker," Jet swears. "Two weeks in a row! Two weeks in a row she skips my day and now I wake up in a goddamn fantasy land."

"Goddess," I whisper. Could I even avoid correcting people if I tried?

"So I assume that's Kagiso," Jet says, pointing at the dentron. "Which would make the weird broken android skeleton Sela, and the… half-raptor woman Helen? Did you seriously fuck up somebody else, Hannah?"

"...She was bleeding out and I had no other way to save her," I mumble in halfhearted protest.

"Awesome! Well. I… do not know how to react to any of this, honestly."

"Stretch your wings and get used to it?" Ida suggests. "We're probably going to be walking for a while."

"...I think I prefer the wings bound up," Jet frowns.

"Suit yourself, but now's probably the best time to stretch them. Fantasy land doesn't exactly raise an eyebrow at magic bullshit."

"I guess that's a point," Jet agrees. "Is that a gun you're holding, by the way? Where did you get a gun?"

"Are you kidding?" Ida asks. "My dad's a rich southern republican. We have tons of guns. He nearly died of joy when I asked him to take me to a shooting range."

"Oh right, money. Have you had to use it? The gun, I mean."

"Jet, I've killed like fifteen people today," Ida snaps. "We had to rescue Hannah from torture cultists and your dumbass headmate from herself. It's great to see you again, seriously, but could you quit jabbering and just walk for a bit?"

"...Oh," Jet says quietly. "Yeah, uh, can do."

We descend into silence after that, and an hour or two later we find another hole in the surface of the Pillar that Helen thinks will serve as a good campsite. It's not a deep, complex cave system like the place Alma ran off to, but it provides good cover in every direction, only has one way in or out, and is easy to keep watch from. Pretty much perfect for people on the run.

We do not, unfortunately, have much in the way of supplies. Our backpacks, camping equipment, dried food, and pretty much everything else we were traveling with is still somewhere in the cultists' crumbling base, or possibly just gone altogether.

Thankfully, Ida brought enough energy bars to feed a small army, and I can hunt the collection of small bugs that skitter around the surface of the pillar, munching on lichen and stonerot. We set up as best we can, but we barely have enough extra clothing to help Helen cover up, and even that is just Jet lending Helen her sweater.

Still, we'll make do. We made it out of that horrible, horrible place, and that's what matters.

"Thanks again, Ida," I tell her as she strips off her outer jacket and bunches it up into a pillow. "Y'know, you don't have to get ready to sleep. I might only be able to transport one person at a time, but if you just wake me up after I pass out transporting Autumn, I'll be able to transport you, too."

"Mmm. You sure about that?" Ida asks. "Would the Goddess put a limit on the number of people you can transport at once and then let you get away with such an obvious workaround?"

"...Huh," I frown. "I'm not sure. Maybe?"

"Well, you can experiment with someone else on your 'maybe,'" Ida grunts. "I'd rather sleep on rocks for a night."

"I guess that's a good point," I admit.

"Of course it's a good point," Ida smirks. "I'm perfect, remember?"

I open my mouth to warn her about arrogance, but I find that the words don't come. Instead, I can only think back on the day, on all the ways Ida risked her life to save mine. And even further back than that, the little ways she helped me all throughout this hellish shift in my life. How can I criticize her after everything she's done? I'd be dead without her.

"Yeah," I agree. "You really are, Ida."

Her smile… actually drops a little. Smushing her makeshift pillow into place one last time, Ida stands up with a stretch.

"Do you mind if I have a chat with you, Hannah?" she asks. "In private?"

"Uh, no," I tell her. "Of course not."

Ida nods, walking up the path into our little cave and back towards the surface, where Kagiso is currently keeping watch. Ida uses a series of hand signals to ask Kagiso to head back and let us keep watch instead, to which Kagiso simply shrugs and departs. Finding a decently-sized rock, Ida hops up on it and sits down, staring silently up at the impossibly massive world tree. She's quiet for a long, long time before she finally speaks, but after today it's hard to mind the silence.

"...Do you know why I love you, Hannah?" she asks.

"Buh?" I respond with my usual loquaciousness, absolutely not having expected a confession all of a sudden. Or… is it a confession? Is she just—

"Goddess, Hannah, cut the gay disaster shit," Ida groans. "Let me rephrase for your pathetic alloromantic mind: do you know why you're my best friend? Even though, yes, I'm aware that I am not your best friend. That title is Valerie's until you finally nut up and date her."

"...What?" I manage.

"I'm asking you a question, Hannah," Ida scowls. "Answer it."

"I… no," I say. "I mean, no, I don't know why you consider me your best friend."

I certainly haven't done anything to deserve it.

"Thought not," Ida sighs. "It's a lot of things, really. Like yeah, you've got your giant pile of flaws, but we… mesh, I guess. Your flaws are things that don't bother me much, and your strengths are things I really respect. I mean, that's how any relationship works, I guess. But I guess I care about you most because you're the only person who really gets me, and still likes me anyway."

"I… I'm not sure I understand," I admit. "You're like, one of the most popular girls at school."

"Oh woo-ee, I'm one of 'the most popular girls at school,'" Ida repeats mockingly. "Hannah, that doesn't fucking matter. You know that doesn't matter, that's one of the things I like about you. You don't give a fuck about being popular. You do your shit and you walk right through anyone trying to stop you without even remembering their damn name. It's fucking hot, honestly."

"Um," I manage.

"But to actually address your objection, yes, I am popular. Lots of people like me. But none of them know me. Conversely, of the people who know me, none of them actually like me. Like Valerie! She knows what I'm about, and she fucking hates my guts. Because like, yeah, why wouldn't you hate a narcissistic, manipulative rich girl who gets her rocks off on fucking with people's lives and pretending that's okay? That is what any sane person who's actually smart enough to see through my layers of bullshit and charisma would think. And since anyone who isn't smart enough to do that isn't worthy of my respect… well, I'm kinda stuck without any peers, aren't I? Except, of course, for you."

I'm starting to feel like this day has been a little too much all at once. I can feel my brain shutting down as I try to absorb all of that, most of my thoughts summing themselves up as 'why me?' or 'that can't be right.' But I guess it would disrespect my friend to dismiss her like that. Still…

"I… don't feel like I understand you," I admit.

"Oh yeah?" Ida asks. "How would you describe me, exactly?"

"As a fae that replaced an actual human child at birth," I answer without hesitation. Ida laughs.

"I like that," Ida chuckles. "Always have. And I guess fae are often portrayed as incomprehensible, but… so are 4D eldritch freaks of nature, monster girl. You know me. You know I'm full of shit."

"Uh… sometimes you go too far, I guess," I admit. "But that's just how you are. You hold other people to the same absurdly high standards you hold yourself. But a lot of people do that."

"See?" Ida says. "There it is. No pedestal, but no judgment. Do you know how rare that is?"

"Uh, I'm a super judgemental person, Ida," I protest.

"But not to your friends," she protests. "I mean, look at you! You're literally running around with a group of mad murderers, one of which you've described as actively genocidal. And then you defended it! I just… do you realize how crazy you are? I love it. I fucking love it!"

She grins, passionate and joyful.

"I killed fifteen people today," she says, half conspiratorial and half… like she's bragging?

"Hey," I warn her. "Don't get comfortable about that. Don't downplay it. It shouldn't be something that's easy."

Ida grins wider.

"You're absolutely right," she tells me. "See? I need help, too."

She hops off the rock, reaching down to pick me up and lift me to eye level.

"So don't you fucking ever let me catch you saying I'm perfect again, you hear me?" Ida demands. "You'd better criticize me. You'd better speak your goddamn mind. 'Perfect' is exactly what I want to hear you say, but it sure as hell isn't what I need to hear. Not from the one person I actually listen to. You get me?"

I take a deep breath, reaching out with my weird little slowly-changing bug limbs to wrap her into a hug. She brings me in closer, and I just squeeze her for a little while before I let go.

"Okay," I promise. "I get you."

"Good," Ida says, and then she lobs me underhand back towards the camp. I squawk and flail in the air for a bit before landing with a thump. "Now go send Autumn back to our world. I'll keep watch."

"Fine," I grumble. "Jerk."

She cackles, and I start to head back.

"Hey, Hannah," Ida asks. "How many people would you kill for me? Like, if you had to."

I pause.

"Uh… I'm not sure I can put a number to something like that," I answer.

"But more than zero?" she presses.

"Oh, I mean… yeah, I guess so," I confirm. "Definitely more than zero. I've killed a lot more for people I've liked a lot less. Which… wow, that's a really fucked up thing to be able to say."

"Heh, yeah," Ida agrees. "I'm gonna be so traumatized because of today."

"...Sorry," I mumble.

"I know you are, Hannah," Ida answers. "And I forgive you. I'd do it all again in a heartbeat."

Gosh. That's… for some reason, that hurts to hear.

"Just don't die for me, okay?" I ask her.

"Eh, nah, I won't die for you," Ida assures me. "But I'll fucking live for you, Hannah. If you need me to."

I can't say anything to that. Any words I think of just feel cheap. So I crawl back to camp alone, my heart racing with confusion.

It's time to head back to Earth. I hope it's not a mistake to leave Ida behind.