Into the blackness, Your heart is darkness

SPOILER: Click to show

{TUESDAY IS OFFLINE}"Mars, Tuesday has received a new message on UNOVR."

Tuesday, as her name tends to imply, often isn't online for long on days other than Tuesdays. Generally, it will be at night and for an hour or less, with the exception of when she logs in to participate in an specific event or when Mars is on one of the long flights he frequently takes (bless in-flight Wi-Fi, truly). This is part of why he had a few warranty-breaching modifications made to his WorldScreens, such as this one. Because, after all, if someone sends Tuesday a message while she's offline, it must be something important, right? Wouldn't want to miss out on a sudden dungeon or something...

"Open message."

The moment he sees it, a wave of regret washes over him. Of course it's not something important. Of course it's not one of Tuesday's contacts telling her about a sudden event. Of course it's motherfucking starlitlover.

"...I'm going to kill him." Mars sighs, mentally counting to twenty and coming to a decision before one single button is pressed. "Emily, I'm going to need you to buy me about an hour or so. If anyone comes to my office, tell them I'll be back soon."

This shouldn't take long.

---

TUESDAY IS NOW ONLINE

She has no interest in returning to place. She has no interest in bringing her Pokémon here. Not even if people online keep talking about the potential perks of allowing Bunya to perform tests on them. It's not worth it in her opinion. Tuesday knows well just how fucked up this game can get.

She had warned Adarsa out of concern, because no matter what had happened between them, Mars still found himself caring enough to not want to see him going through what Mistra has to offer. Clearly, it was a mistake. Clearly, Adarsa deserves what will happen here today.

But, if she thinks that, if Mars thinks that, why did Tuesday log in and come to the edges of Mistra? Why does she stand here while sending starlitlover a message?

It's complicated.

Tuesday said:

You're still such a fucking child.

Is she trying to piss him off? Yes. She's provoking him. Maybe, just maybe, that will keep him distracted... Distracted for long enough for her to find him.

"Be careful when we're in there, Chariot... There's going to be danger." Tuesday tells the Whirlipede by her side, who jumps on the spot in excitement. She sighs, petting the Pokémon's armoured hide. "I'm counting on you."

And with those words, she steps into Mistra, a Whirlipede rolling by her side. Tuesday's attention remains fixed on the map her UI displays at diminished opacity, searching for the familiar sight of a friend marker while refusing to look at her surroundings. She knows what awaits her if she dares look around her.

The problem is that even if she doesn't want to look, the shadows shift and change, taking forms she cannot escape in her peripheral. Broken glass on the ground... Spilled blood... She knows these sights, and pulled from every memory where they have haunted her, they appear all around her as she walks deep and deeper into Mistra.

CHARIOT'S HP: 300/350

"It's not real." Her voice is but a whisper, smooth soprano voicing a firm reminder as a city materializes all around her. A familiar city. But... Why? She had followed the marker on the map in search for Adarsa, so why had she ended up here?

"ADARSA?"

You should call him by his username. He's just another player in the game, not your friend... No one here is actually your friend, especially not him. Tuesday reproaches herself as she walks, attempting to ignore the broken glass on the sidewalk. With Chariot right by her side, she follows the blinking dot, but nagging feeling tug at her with every warning sign. No. Focus on finding Adarsa. What Mistra is trying to show you doesn't matter...

Think that as she may, it's at that moment that she pauses. Right there, on the sidewalk before her, clearly spelt upon concrete by ink-black liquid, are words that are too familiar to her. Words Mars has known since he was a child, and words that now bring uneasiness to his heart.

FORTIS NUMQUAM PEREAT

"No..." If those words are here, then doesn't that mean that he might be here as well? But, how? He's dead. There's still your memories, though... UNOVR could bring him to life here...

Golden eyes widen.

"Shit... ADA! ADARSA, WHERE ARE YOU?"

Tuesday runs now, yelling starlitlover's name as loud as her lungs will allow. She needs to find him. She needs to find him before he does. He who had taken everything that once mattered to Mars.

CHARIOT'S HP: 250/350

Have you learned nothing at all?

Deep and stern, the voice drips into Tuesday's mind — a thought that does not belong to Mars. Intrusive, alien, and yet a voice he knows well; one he should have stopped hearing years ago but that still haunts his dreams all too often. A nightmare. It always reproaches him. It always mocks him. It always looks down on him. Now, it does so with Tuesday as well.

They all leave. Everyone always leaves you alone.

There's a house, but while to Adarsa it may look like his childhood home, through the golden eyes of Tuesday, to Mars it looks like his own. Not the magnificent villa of the Marzán family, but the one from before. A small and simply house like any other; one that's etched into his memory despite how young he was. The house where he lived with his father before his father left him too.

It's just like that night. The broken windows, the glass on the floor, the lone lamppost, the solitary figure approaching...

Panic overtakes Tuesday's heart, childhood fears rising from where they had been buried six feet underground... But, wait—... That's not—... Is that starlitlover?... What is he doing here?... Why is Mistra showing her this?... Is it also showing it to him?

At that moment, a different kind of panic washes over her. He can't see this. He can't know about all the memories that often make Mars wake in cold sweat; all those memories he kept from him for his own sake.

"Ada!"

He'll leave you too. Just like he did before.

Tuesday forces herself to ignore the voice in her mind, reaching for Starlitlover to stop him from going any farther.

"We can't go in there." In a rare occurrence, her voice trembles. She's worried about what awaits them in the house, yes, but there's something more, something else, a feeling most would never expect from someone like her...

"We need to get out of here."

Tuesday is afraid.

CHARIOT'S HP: 200/350

He never listens to you, does he?

No. Never. Agreeing with that cruel and chastising voice makes Mars' blood boil, and oh how he wishes he didn't have to. How he wishes he could defend Adarsa. How he wishes he could tell his grandfather he's wrong about him... But, no. Emilio Marzán had never once been wrong about anything, no matter how much Mars may still despise even the memory of him.

Why would anyone ever listen to you?

Why? He had wanted to protect him. Even now, he had just wanted to protect Adarsa from the horrors of Mistra. He had warned him. He had demanded that they leave. Just as Mars has always known things to be, Adarsa follows no one's wishes but his own, and their wishes always seem to contradict each other. They always had and they probably always will.

In truth, Tuesday can do no more than give a gentle squeeze before letting go. She stands at the threshold, refusing to step in and also refusing to look at what awaits them within this long gone home. Mars knows what's there, regardless of who they see, just like Tuesday doesn't need to look at her hands to know that they're now covered in the crimson blood that has been spilt because of him.

You can't protect anyone. Especially not from yourself.

Mocking, the voice laughs coldly in her head, and Tuesday's hands close to fist, knuckles white within gauntlets. "It's not real." She whispers without looking at starlitlover, perhaps a reminder for herself as much as it's one for him. "None of it is real."

The blood is warm in her hands, dripping drop by drop...

CHARIOT'S HP: 150/350

Her blood runs cold.

"No... You can't..." It's a different and a different voice, but the tone is there and so are the actions and the words. The click. The fear and desperation in Adarsa's eyes. The blood that marks this once beloved home as the field of a merciless battle.

You once said I have no power over you. Look at yourself now.

The voice mocks her even now, reminiscing on the last conversation they had; on the vengeful promise Mars had made back then. He had had his revenge. He had vanquished the monster in his life. He had escaped from the shackles his family had bound him with since he was a child. Emilio Marzán had died many years ago and Martín Marzán had gone to America to start a new life. And, yet...

And yet Tuesday steps forward.

I will always have power over you.

"Let him go. Now." She demands, her tone just as cold. After all, one monster had indeed been vanquished, but the cruel truth is that in the process another may have been born.

CHARIOT'S HP: 100/350

Family.

Looking out for each other.

Kindness.

Each statement is like a slap in the face, aching and filling Tuesday with anger and hatred. It's not just the hatred that Mars feels towards the man these scenes remind him of either. It's his hatred for the one now holding the weapon and threatening Adarsa; the who is so obviously scaring him. His hatred for the corruption that is doing this to them. His hatred for everything that stands in his way. Hate and hate and hate and hate and hate.

"Kindness?" Tuesday echoes as if the word itself were a joke, a humourless chuckle escaping lips rosy and cold. She takes a deep breath despite the situation before her; grounding herself, looking up, and standing straight. Only then does she look at starlitlover again. "Ada, just remember that that isn't actually Darcy, okay? It's the game trying to fuck with your head."

'Trying' is a huge understatement. It works. It works too damn well. But, see, here's the thing, while some people respond to terrifying situations with shock and tears, that's not the case for everyone, and Mars hasn't cried for a very long time. He knows his own fears painfully well. He knows where they come from, he knows why they're there, and he knows that they won't go away. Now, that in itself pisses him off above all else.

True to her name and Mars' own, Tuesday stands her ground in this battle, eyes of gold falling upon this figment of corruption that has dared to take the form of Adarsa's brother and Mars' own grandfather all in one go. She reaches back, a hand firmly grabbing onto a steel hilt adorned by what was once the circlet of a pretense princess.

"You're wrong. You don't know kindness and you're not the only one with a weapon." No matter what happens, no matter the outcome, she will never go down begging and crying. Tuesday fights. Mars fights. That's the whole reason he had long ago been given that name. 'You love fighting everything that stands in your way.' She had told him in a laugh back then, and god damn it all, she had been right even to this day. "Here's the answer to your question: I choose you."

She lunges at the corrupt creature, tackling it to the bloodstained floor in an attempt to free Adarsa and reach for the weapon. Her own dark blade digs deep and crimson spills over a carpet that had already been ruined long ago. There's no time to consider whose blood that might be.

CHARIOT'S HP: 50/350