Animator vs Animation: The Dark Web

Chapter 22: The Aftermath (Part 3)

authors note: This chapter is split into three parts; this is the third and final part. Please read the previous parts to get the context of the plot. Happy reading!

The hours passed through faster than The Chosen One could track.

The noon of the bright broken sky beamed as he stood outside of the archive, slowly stretching his arms and rolling his shoulders. The hollowhead looked out amongst the townspeople, as the final fractures on the streets smoothened with seals of fresh pavement. They worked fast and efficiently, reclaiming the patches of their town's determination they once lost.

And the rest of his friends and allies remained, dozing their wasted hours away.

Inside the archive, The Second Coming and the Color Gang huddled near a bookshelf, their heads slumped on each other's shoulders for support in an awkward yet affectionate gesture. A few feet away, the Officials rested apart from each other, but not distant; even in their sleep, they were always within reach. Among them, the two ex-Hunters seamlessly blended with them. Driftwood curled near Mountain Mist and Turquoise, whereas Valhalla lingered closer to where the rest of the three Officials remained. And Lace White and Rouge stayed awake, watching over the group.

Just them sleeping together—it almost resembled a family, their pasts blurred into a connection closer than they would think.

The Chosen One didn't need the rest. Hollowheads didn't typically need basic necessities unlike mortal stick figures do—no eating or sleeping required—but he could understand why his allies, especially  The Second Coming, engaged in such things. After everything that happened, they deserved a moment.

Before his thoughts could go further, Rouge approached him from behind. He stretched his arms up, absorbing the newfound warmth of the Dark Web's once cold sky. He stood there, staring into the dark blue, before casting a glance at The Chosen One.

They both exchanged curt nods, but from there on, they stood in awkward silence. The tension wasn't uncomfortable, but felt a little uneasy.

Hoping to lighten the mood, Rouge held up a hand. He couldn't help but feel a little curious—of the future. He crossed his arms. What was he, and the others, going to do after all this?

The Chosen One looked away, pondering for a moment, before he gestured a hand out to the sky. After this, they were going to go back—that simple. And if the others were comfortable enough, they too could come along. The Chosen One shrugged. If any, he didn't mind the extra company.

But Rouge rubbed the back of his head, a little skeptical. He then tilted his head slightly, his gaze locking with The Chosen One's. If that was the case, then—how exactly were they going to return?

The Chosen One pondered again, but this time—he didn't have a clear answer. He stared off back to the street, catching sight of the townspeople cleaning their supplies and tents up.

The town has been rebuilt. The last remaining remnants of the Codeborn's destruction have been mended.

The Chosen One lowered his head, rolling his shoulders up in uncertainty. Rouge looked back to him, seeing the hesitation, before giving him a pat on his shoulder.

Rouge gave him a considerate tilt of his head. His softened expression said everything. You'll figure it out. You always do.

The Chosen One lifted his head and glanced back at Rouge, taken aback. The Chosen One didn't expect any reassurance, least of all from Rouge—the one who didn't trust him since the beginning.

Rouge's hand trailed off of The Chosen One's shoulder. The hollowhead lifted his head higher, encouraged, his expression softening in return. Deep down—he appreciated it, more than The Chosen One would like to admit.