Heroes of Dreamland Rewritten, Book 3: Stars Amidst Darkness

[àc̸c͠ȩs͏s_ǵran̢t̕ed҉.̢AZU͟ ͏2̸.͝0̧]

2817-11-20T09:53.239851+00:00 nintendom[エベ.AZU]: Log Update Start

"It's working," I whisper in relief. I fall back into a sitting position. "Thank heavens. It's working."

The large central monitor holds the view of Planet Popstar from orbit. Overnight, the splotch of black kept spreading and growing like a cancerous tumor, slowly sucking the color out of the planet. Even the halos began to fade. I was getting seriously worried that the heroes weren't going to figure out what to do.

But now, little patches of light keep spreading one into another, growing bigger as they go. I clench my gloves into tight fists and let out a tiny sigh of relief. Tears still stream down my face.

At least the main ones are okay.

The running death feed on one of the other monitors, though, tells me that not all of the inhabitants of Popstar were so lucky. It's all random monsters, of course; nobody terribly important. It still breaks my heart. I can feel each of them disappear. I can sense their soul passing on. In many cases, I can feel their history all but disappearing. No one is left to remember them. The memories aren't necessary anymore.

But I never forget a soul. Even if all I remember is names and dates of life, I never, ever forget a soul.

"I hate climactic moments," I whimper. I fall onto my side on the desk and hug my gloves to myself. "Too many people dying all at once. It's too much to process."

The wars were the worst, of course. So many people dying at once in a steady stream that never stopped, never let up, for decades upon decades. The quiet pinging of the death feed going off in a continuous stream, each quiet, innocent chime another needle in my already raw and aching heart.

It's climactic moments when I realize just how useless I really am. It's climactic moments when I realize that everything I try to do is nothing more than a farce.

I let out a single sob and hug my gloves around myself tighter. At least the death feed is slowing again, as the patch of light continues to spread and cover more and more of the planet. Within an hour, the dark gas will be gone. The light's already spread to and cut off the source. Now it's just a matter of getting rid of what's left so that it can't self-replicate anymore.

The heroes have saved the day. Soon they'll be celebrating. Good for them. They deserve it. They deserve a break. Thankfully, nothing's scheduled to happen again anytime soon.

Honestly, we're nearing the point where very little is scheduled at all, but we're not quite there yet. We have some time left, still. We're not quite to the end game.

One of the other small monitors starts chiming with a new warning. I sigh and half close my eyes at the reminder. Of course, we are actually to the end game; we have been ever since Meta Knight didn't die.

I don't care. I'm seeing this through to a happy ending if it's the last thing I do. No warning or bug is going to stop me.

I sit up. My imaginary body feels so heavy. I don't feel exhausted, exactly, since I can't sleep or rest. I have no need of those things, anyway. Despite that, 'exhausted' is the closest word I can think of to describe this almost-sensation.

The heroes might be having a break. I wish I could afford to take one. It's been far too long that I've been running myself so hard.

I reach out with one glove and double-tap on the chiming monitor to see what's up. "What is it this time? You upset with the timeline again?" I ask of it under my breath, just a little bit annoyed. "Get over it already. I'm not letting you change it back."