A Hero in the Dark: 2nd Edition

Chapter 134: Bittersweet Day

From total darkness to heavenly light, I'm watching myself. How? How am I watching myself? I look around—at me, at John, Henri, Lola, then down at my hands. My hands? They're blue and transparent, like a cobalt ghost, and by that, I'm scared. Am I—

No. I can't be. I run to John, surprised by my speed, and fall to my knees in front of him and that other me. I hold my alien boy by the shoulders, gripping him hard, shaking him, begging him to look up, but he doesn't. He doesn't react. His eyes are lost on other me. "John, please, don't cry. Look at me. I'm right here." He doesn't, and that breaks me, long until my hands fall away.

Apart from his cries, there's nothing else to hear, not until... I hear him. "He cannot hear you," Setrákus says, and I grit my teeth at the flare in his voice, until finally, I find the strength to face him. He's a cobalt, transparent figure like I am.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I spit, though I want to scream.

He waves a hand, flickers, and his blue shape wavers until his appearance changes. It's so seamless, more so than when Eight or Isabela shapeshifted. My jaw falls upon watching his face fall away; Pittacus Lore's replaces it. "You?" I'm stunned. "You brought me here? Why?!"

For a moment, he tilts his head. "I didn't," he claims. "You brought yourself here."

"What do you mean?" Am I dead?

"Yes, I'm afraid so," he says, lowering his head.

"What?" I feel like I should be angry, or confused, but I'm at a loss for words. I don't know what to feel. "So... that other me... in his arms... that's real, and I'm a... a ghost?"

Pittacus nods, and my face falls. I turn back to John, watching as he cries and clings to me, while he pleads for me to open my eyes. "You can stay with me," Pittacus offers.

I'm surprised he'd even suggest such a thing. "Stay with you? I don't want to stay with you. I want to go back. I want John!"

"I tried to tell you," he goes on. "I could not warn you directly—it was outside my parameters—but I had hoped you heard the song set out for you."

"Yes, I heard your little singsong melody, or whatever was going on in my head, but you didn't tell me anything about signing my death certificate!" I exclaim. "How was I supposed to know what you were doing anyway?! Nothing you ever say makes any sense."

He seems to consider that for a while, looking away. "I apologize," he says, eventually. "I should've been clearer, somehow."

"Yeah, you should've been. Now what am I supposed to do? What's going to happen to him? Or Lola? I was supposed to go home in two years."

"I cannot say."

"Why?! Why can't you say?"

He shakes his head. "Emily, you expended all your energy. You gave up your life for us. I don't know how to repay you for that."

I cross my arms. "You can start by sending me back."

He remains impassive. "I would if I could."

"What?" No, this can't be true.

"It isn't in my power."

"But you're Pittacus Lore."

"I'm not a God. I cannot control death."

"You can't keep me here," I say, boiling under my skin—essence? Whatever I am in here! "You know I have a daughter now. You can't take me from her."

"I'm sorry, but like I said, I can't control death. I tried to warn you, and you proceeded. I am not at fault." I want to scream, but frankly, I can't muster up the energy. "Besides, to be fair, you knew of this outcome at one stage or another."