Her soul ached fiercely, and her heart was little more than slivers at this point. Sunset felt beyond shattered as she huddled against the rigid basalt wall, curled up into a fetal position, tail curled around herself and wings of shadow and flame closing off the outside world as she wept, lost and alone in the bowels of some twisted underworld prison, feeling despair gnawing on her. Spike was missing, she had no idea which way to go, there were bruises and scrapes on her body that hadn't been there before, and she couldn't stop thinking about the fantasy she had just escaped from. Twilight had felt so real, and the way her voice murmured, “I love you,” against her lips had made her feel like she was flying under her own power.

Those words were something Sunset had not heard directed at her since she had outgrown the awkward, adorable stage all foals went through, where they were all fat bodies and disproportionate heads and flailing limbs, and everypony loved them. The amber mare had long since grown accustomed to the lack of them in her life, had pushed away and squelched the begging need for that emotional affirmation until it withered away, and been replaced by the drive to prove herself worthy of any such praise and adoration…a drive that had been her undoing. So she stopped, reassessed, and told herself she was content with whatever affection and praise was given when she did her best to be a good person, something that had been working just fine. Sunset had friends who accepted and cared for her, who wanted to stand with her, a school full of students and even some adults who respected her efforts to change and be better, and a best friend/girlfriend who had given her a taste of family and accepted her despite her flaws…

Even The Fight had only left her shaken and wounded, not broken…but hearing those three words so freely from a Twilight that seemed so very real…

Sunset had never realized how badly she wanted…needed…to hear them.

Or return them.

She felt more isolated and alone than she had since she first arrived in the human world; even as the bully and the villain, she’d still had minions in Snips and Snails—for all their lacking intellect and annoying fawning over her, they had been…company that drowned out the sound of her thoughts. Not to mention how she’d grown accustomed to the companionship she’d acquired after the formal, in friends that were just there, always available, be it through text messages late at night or company during school, or being willing to drop everything if she truly needed them….and now they were all out of reach.

Even the voice in her head was silent.

—Still here,— came the whisper, laden with their shared pain. —Just…not a lot to say.—

It helped, but it did nothing to banish the despair on its own, and all she could do was wait for the metaphorical bleeding to stop.

How long she cried was…indeterminable…but eventually the former unicorn forced herself to put her emotions back in their boxes and tucked them away as best she could. It was hard, and she was still holding on to sanity by pure stubbornness, but the pain receded and the tears dried up.

—She was right, you know…The Twilight in the dream. There’s still a chance we can…talk it out, even if we end up having to send her and Spike back without us.— Her other side sounded exhausted, the same bone-weary tiredness she was feeling. —That’s…something…and right now, we need something to hold onto, or we risk getting caught.—

All she had now was that tiniest flicker of hope, that maybe things could be fixed…that she might be able to get a chance even if she couldn't get both her and Twilight out of this sadistic realm…and if she could find a way to leave too…Maybe then…

—We at least owe Sparky the truth.—

She did. Sunset stretched her wings up and away, felt them disappear into the aether, waiting to be summoned.

The voice cleared its non-existent throat. —Are you okay?—

“We have to be,” she growled, her voice rough. “Twilight can’t afford for us not to be.” Pushing herself to her feet, Sunset stared down the two ends of the tunnel, hoping to see some hint of Spike.

Nothing. Now how was she supposed to know which way to go?

—…we always knew before,— the voice murmured. —Feel, horn-head. Which way does our soul tell us she is?—

Sunset frowned, but closed her eyes, and reached for that deep spot in her magic, the part connected to her mark, the part that hummed under Twilight’s touch. At first, there was nothing…but then…

It was like a fluttery tug, like fingertips hooking her wrist briefly and pulling just enough to move her hand in a direction. Honeysuckle tickled her nose, and she realized she did know.

“That way,” she said with a touch of surprise. “Why didn't you tell me before that we could do that?”

—Besides the fact that you would have ignored it? It's not like we’ve been on good terms until about half an hour ago, you know, and plus…it took us months to put this much of ourself back together, horn-head, on top of everything else that was happening. The fact that we can pick Sparky out of a crowd of thousands with our eyes shut was…something we just did without thinking. We didn't really need it as anything more than it already was. There was never a reason to think about it or mention it. Now we do.—

The rebuke made her hang her head. “I really was unreasonably stubborn, wasn't I? I’m sorry.”

Her inner demon let out a conciliatory sound as only a pony could. —It's behind us,— the voice responded. —Sunset Shimmer was foaled stubborn. Whoever our mother might’ve been, we probably gave her a nightmare of a time even before we drew breath.—

That coaxed a humorless chuckle from her. That's fair. If the doctors got our age estimation right, the week we were born was probably the worst one for a mare to foal in years.”

—What was it? Three hurricanes along the eastern coast, an earthquake in VanHoover, and an eruption near Thrace that made weather management a nightmare for the next half a year?— It joined her laughter. —Lot of ominous omens around our origins.—

“Omens? Really? You know divination is mostly muck water runoff from a broken sewer pipe.” She began jogging down the passage. “For every pony with some kind of clairvoyance, there's a dozen bogus omens, dreams, and warnings.”

—True for the most part…but there's the other kind that has nothing to do with divination and everything to do with the movements of energy and magic. Even if they had nothing to do with us, such uncharacteristic disturbances so close together did indicate some kind of shift in elemental or magical energies.—

Ugh. She hated when she lost a debate, but her demon wasn't wrong. “I’d hardly call those omens though. They're more like visible manifestations of invisible events. Like symptoms for an illness.”

—Isn't that what an omen is though? A visible warning and manifestation of something you can’t see?—

Sunset snorted. “We’ll ask Sparky for clarification on the semantics when we get to her.”

—Before or after we kiss her breathless?—

“Like she’s going to want to kiss us like this? Monstrous she-demon is not exactly the kind of thing that screams ‘sexy fun times’ to anyone remotely sane.”

There was laughter in her mind, rich and amused. —Oh, bright moonlight, you have no idea, do you?—

“What?” Sunset scowled as she ran, talons digging into the stone to keep from slipping on the shimmery, rainbow hued patches. “You can't possibly think Twilight will look at me like this and have any reaction beyond freaking out.”

—Bet.—

“Fine. Be prepared to lose—ACK!”

She skidded to a halt, flailing with seven limbs to avoid entering another of those strange illusions of a place she knew. In this case, the street outside her loft, and it was only rapid flapping of her wings that propelled her back in time. “…horseapples…” The illusion of her human world home remained, and a glance back the way she’d come revealed something even worse: a wall where there had been a tunnel. “Now what do we do?”

—Don’t think there's much choice but to go forward.—

Sunset ran claws through her mane. “Want to take bets on the emotional damage it's going to go for this time? Maybe a life where I didn't meet Sparky after the formal? Or one where she hates me?”

After considering that the demon hummed a negative. —I…don't think so…all things being equal, and Sparky being herself, it would take a great deal of interference to make her hate you. The kind of situation that would push Twilight Sparkle to hate someone is not the kind of thing that even we would have done at our worst moments…not and left her alive to hate us. Even when we were a demon, we only tried to kill the princess quickly. We had no taste for suffering. So Hate seems…unreasonable. Apathy, perhaps, because she doesn't know you, but that's fairly neutral, because it's just a lack of emotion rather than negative ones.—

She stared at the illusion. “Once more unto the breach then.”

And then she stepped through.

Just as the illusion with Daybreaker had done, crossing into it passed through some kind of membrane, and assaulted her with smells and sounds that matched her countless memories of the worn street with its eclectic array of row homes, businesses, and alleyways. Gazing one way, then the other, Sunset saw no one, though she dimly registered that she was now in possession of clothing, though her form was…still less than human. Her tail lashed in agitation. “The others have all given us a form that matched the setting. Why not here?”

—Probably because whatever is going on here needs us like this. Be cautious.—

Sunset growled irritably, wrapping her tail awkwardly around her waist under her coat and stuffing her hands in her pockets. If she was careful, maybe she could pass as someone in a costume. All the same, she kept to the shadows and hurried towards the loft, wanting to get inside where she’d feel less exposed. Thankfully, it was quiet, and she got there with no issue, getting the door open with the aid of her hidden key in the fake painted rock sitting in a plant pot with a cheerful flower bush on her steps.

Inside, she sagged back against the door, trying to get her bearings and game plan a way out of this illusion with a measure of rapidity. That was when blue-green eyes noticed something out of place: there were framed photos on the table where she normally set her books and keys. Sunset frowned, and took a closer look.

The most notable of them contained a human couple with an infant. Both seemed young—maybe Cadence and Shining’s age?—and happy, gazing at each other and the squashy human foal with fondness. The man had a curling lion’s mane and beard in a rich, earthy red-brown, set against moss green skin. One of his eyeteeth was golden, and he had several piercings in one ear, marked by simple black rings. Under the protective arc of his arm was a woman, her skin a pale blue-touched white, and sun-bleached platinum-blonde hair held back in a practical ponytail. Her eyes were a dark teal, but Sunset saw the shape of her own human form’s cheekbones and eyes in that smiling face. And the somewhat ugly form of the human offspring between them possessed her own amber skin and very short red-and-gold curls.

“Uhhhhhh….”

What even was this? A sick joke? She certainly was not laughing. Were these supposed to represent the parents she didn't remember or even know the names of?

—Fascinating. Not that it really does anything for us, even if they are accurate. These are humans. No cutie mark, no tribe.—

Sunset reached a hand out, intending to pick up the photo. “I prefer to assume they are as much a fake as anything else this place has shown us. Honestly, I stopped asking—”

“Don't touch that! It's not yours!” The voice was her own, harsh and sharp, but it hadn’t come from her.

Sunset released the edge of the frame and it clattered to the table, before falling over. Her shock was so great that she offered no resistance as a figure shoved her away to right it and check for damage.

It was herself…or another version of herself, thicker in frame with heavier, wiry muscle, but several inches shorter, and with hard, fierce eyes. She was dressed in leather and spikes over a faded Nirvana shirt, her hair shorn yet still wild, and she had a row of piercings in each ear. There was a scar along her eyebrow and another on her chin, faint but noticeable.

And she was angry.

“Not that that ever stopped you before,” the other Sunset sneered.

“…what?”

—Huh. This is weird. She’s like…a Punk us. Punk-set?—

Please don't.

—She looks like she stepped out of those stupid movies Dash likes.—

Still not going to be rude here.

Ignorant of their conversation, the girl glared at her. “You heard me. You're really good at taking things that don't belong to you, stepping all over everyone as long as it gets you your goal.”

Taken aback, Sunset hesitated. What exactly was this illusion getting at? What was it that it was trying to dig out of her?

The copy of herself rolled her eyes when she didn't answer, taking in her expression. “Look at you! You’ve done this for so long and so often that it doesn't even register that you're doing it!”

Her hackles bristled and Sunset laid her ears back. “That’s not true—yes, the old me did crush her opposition or anyone in the way, but I’ve worked hard to move beyond that, to do better. I’m not that mare anymore.”

Those eyes were diamond hard, staring back at her, the face so like her own glaring at her. “I am the old you.”

She blinked. “…no…you aren't.” Sunset certainly had never looked like that. Even if her human body had been disturbing, Sunset had been vain enough to manage her mane--not always an easy task with her kind of curls--and avoid scarring. Not to mention, she was fairly certain that the remnants of her former self were in the very demon side she had just accepted as part of who she was.

“I was here before you. I was here first! Where do you think I went when you came through the portal? When you waltzed into a place you didn't belong and took over my life!?” Arms crossed defiantly over the illusion’s chest.

Sunset shook her head. “This,” she stated, making a hand motion to indicate the loft itself, “isn't your life. I made this for myself—you had nothing to do with it.”

The other Sunset snorted derisively. “How can you be so sure of that? How do you know this life wasn't supposed to be mine? It should have been mine—I was here first! But noooo. You had to take it for yourself! Just like you always have!” She got into Sunset’s space, each word like a hammer blow. “Just like you did at Celestia’s school and with the princess as her student, shoving another unicorn out so you could have their spot!”

“I—”

Any attempt to speak was cut off. “You did it with Magic too, and you're even doing it now! Claiming to be something you have no right to! You, an Element of Harmony!? Who would actually trust you with a responsibility like that?!” She huffed. “So don't sit there and play innocent.”

“I’m not,” Sunset said tightly, forcing herself to breathe and control her emotions. “But I looked for you, once I realized the world had counterparts to ponies I knew. I tried to find you, to the best of my ability.”

Spreading her arms, the doppelgänger stated mockingly, “Well, here I am, in Hell, and it's all your doing.”

Rubbing her temples, Sunset struggled to keep calm. “How? How is this somehow my doing? I never found you—not in any records, not in any photos, nowhere! You weren't raised by Principal Celestia, and I have no idea who my parents were, so there's no names I could have searched. I even had a professional look, just to be sure, because as much as I used to be okay with trampling over others, the one being I never wanted to do that to was another Sunset Shimmer.”

The declaration was met with mockery. “Do you hear yourself? Even when trying to be altruistic, you can't help but be self centered and look out for number one! What makes another Sunset Shimmer so special?”

Her temper flared. “Because I know how awful it is to be Sunset Shimmer!”

That seemed to give the fake Sunset pause, and the real one couldn't stop herself from just venting some of her anger and frustration. “Being Sunset Shimmer is lousy enough without another Sunset kicking you in the dirt alongside everypony else! It's a life that is a mess right out of the gate—I was literally abandoned to die in a forest fire as a newborn! I have no idea who my parents were or why I was abandoned, and instead of having a family, I ended up with a mare who didn't want a foal, unable to be adopted because I was magically unstable and dangerous, and then spent my whole life being reminded of just how unwanted I am! Being Sunset Shimmer is knowing that you don't matter! That nothing would have been any different if I was never born!”

Her voice had started out level, but had escalated into yelling as she built up emotional momentum. “I wanted to matter, and when I realized I didn't I ran away to a world where I mattered even less, and I realized that the universe itself seems to hate me. The good things I get are just setting me up for having further to fall, more to be hurt by! Being Sunset Shimmer is a fate I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy!”

Sunset finished her rant, chest heaving like she’d run a marathon, tears in her eyes and her throat feeling ragged from the yelling. From the back of her mind, in an almost soft tone, her demon whispered, —Horn-head…—

She ignored it.

“Oh yeah,” the other Sunset snarked at her. “You have such a hard time. It's so hard to be adored by your schoolmates, surrounded by friends willing to bleed and die for you, bound to someone who is everything you could ever want in a partner. It must be utter torture to be you, to live the life you’ve lucked into.”

“I didn't ‘luck’ into anything!” she thundered. “In the last six months I have fought and clawed and struggled for every moon-blighted, Tartarus-touched inch!And I still don't feel like I deserve it, deserve them, because I was a monster to most of them once!” She scrubbed furiously at her eyes. “I don't feel like I deserve any of it. Not their forgiveness, not their acceptance, none of it.”

Curling her lips back in something like a snarl, and the words she uttered at Sunset were icy. “No. You don’t. You don’t deserve any of it. Not the friends or the school, and certainly not Twilight Sparkle…” The doppelganger advanced on her, and jabbed an index finger into her chest. “…But more than anything, you don't deserve the magic you stole! You have done nothing to prove yourself worthy of it, you acquired it through theft and deceit, and the first thing you did was seek to use it to destroy!” That finger jabbed her again, painfully. “You have no right to that power, and all that comes with it! They should be mine! I can protect Them, unlike you!”

Stolen? Was…was this about the magic behind her Pony-Ups? Why…did that matter so much? “I…don't even know what you’re talking about,” she admitted, swallowing her anger forcefully. “Yes, there is some kind of lingering Harmonic magic as a side effect of what happened with the Crown…but I didn't ask for it or try to keep anything. I was not exactly in control of what the Rainbow of Light did or didn't do to me that night.” Sunset pushed the hand away from her firmly. “And however it happened or why, I’m doing my best to use it for good, to help others and to protect the people around me. I’ve changed from the mare who first put on the Crown.”

“Liar! You have stolen before and you're here to steal now!” The other figure began to draw her fist back, and Sunset braced for a fight, still trying to figure out what exactly was going on. This illusion was far less coherent than any of the other events that she’d experienced in this nightmare world.

—Sorry, horn-head. This is escalating into something else. My turn,— the voice said, and then Sunset found herself shunted to the side in her own mind and body. “Enough.”

Her opposite number froze.

“Your accusations are unfair, and based on incomplete knowledge and assumptions.” Her voice was sharp as her inner demon spoke for them both with firm calmness…yet Sunset could feel the magic behind it, magic being pulled up from the depths of her soul and thrumming with Harmony’s power. “Nothing was stolen, and it was not the kind of decision made solo. Not with what was happening at the time, and all parties involved.”

Fists clenched, the illusion countered, “I was never consulted!”

Sunset felt herself frown, and give a small headshake, all outside of her direct control. It felt strange and disorienting, and it reminded her far too much of the events of the formal, when she was trapped inside herself, watching the madness and violence being inflicted outside herself. You know, I liked it better when we scared the Fearlings.

--Said I was sorry…that wouldn't have worked here.-- A flicker of that magic brushed over her part of the mindscape, laden with apology, before the voice addressed the illusion again. “No. You weren’t. You didn’t need to be. It was something that had nothing to do with you. A decision was reached all the same, and it was an agreed upon course of action by all involved. Without that agreement, any sparks struck would flicker and die, rather than ignite anything.”

This was officially taking a turn for the weird—it was the voice in control, but for all it sounded like her…it was too dry and detached. Not to mention the whole conversation was steeped in allusions and inferences to something Sunset wasn't privy to…about…the Elements? About that…half conversation in the white void where the mirror reflected her evils to her and broke her? Had…she agreed to a punishment there? Or was it about the Harmonic energies she could access with her friends? Why would a fake Sunset in an illusion in a prison for demons care about that? And if it was, how was that part of some nebulous punishment and agreement she could not recall?

As she observed—she could do little else—the other Sunset seemed to shrink in on herself. She gave another glare and thrust a hand out towards Sunset. “Why her?”

To be fair, if this was about her part as one of those channeling the magic of the Elements, Sunset was also pretty curious about the answer. At first glance, she definitely seemed like the last pony any of the Elements would choose.

“Maybe you would understand better if you weren’t so busy being petty with all of this. Taking away our guide, twisting the labyrinth around on us…throwing us into illusions and trying to tear apart our psyche--which we just managed to get back together, by the way, so thanks for that. You made this personal.” The voice was scathing as it chastised…was this the mind behind Hell? “You overstep, with this. This was not a defense of yourself, or to ensure your prisoners remain in their cells. You have separated a guide from his chosen charges, in his duty as a guide, and you hold a soul falsely imprisoned that does not belong here. You’re breaking your own rules.”

Sunset watched the way Hell’s warden—wearing her face, which was creepy—crumpled under the declaration.“Fine,” she—it?—bit out irritably. “Show me then, if you can.”

And just like that, Sunset was standing once more in a cavern of basalt and shimmering obsidian. She could move again, and she jolted as she was suddenly back in charge of her limbs and balance. “What in the name of Discord’s lopsided apples was that all about?!”

Laughter rippled from the other side of her mind, relieved, desperate, oh-crap-I-can’t-believe-that-we-survived laughter. —Gorgon’s horns! I can’t believe that worked!--

“...what?”

--I wasn’t sure, but it felt like something was off so I went with it. Turns out I guessed right--they were attempting to force a particular outcome with all of this. The separation of us from Spike was deliberate, and, as suspected, not allowed, all for them to be able to confront us.— The voice huffed. —We’ve learned something though. For starters, Hell really does not like us.—

“So that was…what? The mind behind these tortures? The warden?”

—Hell itself. There is no warden. This place protects itself.—

Sunset shuddered. “Great, I’m stuck in an entire dimension that has a spear marked for my flank. I’d be more surprised, but at this point, it's starting to feel like just another Friday.” Then she redirected. “You’re…not just my dark side and what's left of the demon I turned into, are you?” She fought to avoid curling her wings around herself, but she couldn't stop her arms from hugging herself. “You...know too much…about things I don't. Like what Tartarus is really like. Or the rules demons and other things I’m not aware of have to follow.”

Silence stretched, and then the voice responded quietly, —Not entirely, no…it wasn’t a lie either.—

Mind racing, Sunset started putting pieces together. “…so what? Part of you IS the demon I became, but the rest is…something else?”

Another long stretch of silence made her hackles prickle before the voice in her head answered. --Not all of the demon was salvageable--a good portion was purged of corruption and dark magic. What’s left is a good portion of me.--

But not all. Sunset chewed her lip. “...You know a lot about the Elements. About what happened when we put on the Element of Magic…but you’re not Magic. And…you’re tied into the magic I have now--you were using it…or were part of it when you were in control just now.” Bracing herself, she asked, “Is…is my theory correct? About the Elements being aware? Capable of thoughts and feelings, not just Artifacts? Something talked to me when I put on the Crown…”

--...I…know enough to tell you that the theory is…on the right track, but also not entirely right.-- Uncertainty filled her awareness, but she wasn’t sure if it was entirely hers or coming from the voice in her head.

“...Are you…also some kind of representation of the Elements? Some leftover magic from when Magic turned me into a demon? Or…some kind of lost Element? A new one?”

—…we…I…don't know.— Her inner demon admitted.

“Why not?” The redhead was really getting tired of half truths and non-answers about the magic in her life.

—Look, horn-head, that was a really busy night for us. Putting on Magic, transforming into a demon, getting into a fight, and then getting blasted into a crater by the Rainbow as it scrubbed the corruption and dark magic out of us…that's a lot. If there was a clear answer, I don't know it any more than you. Everything in us has been fragmented and scattered, and it was only after the Sirens that I could even start putting things back into some kind of order. Even now, everything is incomplete, missing huge pieces, filled in by…the process that allowed Sunset Shimmer to survive that night. Sometimes knowledge comes to me, but I can't tell you how or why or where it came from.—

“…ugh. Why can't anything ever be simple!”

—You know the answer to that.—

Tail flicking in annoyance, she curled her lips in a way she avoided around humans. “Because I’m Sunset Shimmer, and the universe loves to see me suffer.”

Sunset knew it was a whiny complaint and more than a bit childish; her demon had a point, and even her own memories sometimes had weird edges to them she couldn’t remember them having before. Becoming a demon had done a lot of damage and left a lot of scarring on her soul…and if it was now more an amalgamation than just hers…

Sweet sunfire, what had the Elements done to her? Was she even really Sunset Shimmer anymore? Had she been since she woke up in the crater? Or did she just believe she was because she was mostly made up of Sunset Shimmer’s memories and feelings?

--If memories and emotions don’t make a being who they are, then what does? You are still Sunset Shimmer--the Elements cannot make you into someone you are not. They can cleanse darkness, repair damage, and give you a bit of perspective, but for all the power of Harmony, it cannot make someone new out of whole cloth.-- There was…something like an apology from the back of her psyche. —I’m sorry, horn-head--this was kind of why I didn’t go into the details when we were dealing with that binding spell. Truth is, we’re a mess, damaged and repaired, scarred and fractured…but…together, you…me…We are all of Sunset Shimmer. Whether or not that was always the case is unknown, but we’re in this together now, and that's how its going to be going forward.—

That was…a little reassuring, she decided, even as she slid down a column to sit and process. It didn't help with the lack of real answers, but she could at least count on the voice to have her back and act in their best interests. Especially when it came to Twilight… she had not imagined the intensity and passion in the demonic figure in her mind when they had talked about their shared feelings for the human girl. She also knew…that the voice was telling the truth. She could…feel it, in the same way she felt her cutie mark.

It still frustrated her, because it felt like she would never be able to unravel the tangled mess of her magic and her mind in a way that would be satisfying. Every answer only seemed to give rise to a dozen new questions…and always at the worst possible time. It was on her mind now, but she had far more important things she really needed to be doing, like getting Twilight out of Hell so that they could stop Sombra and save the school.

And probably the world, since he seemed to have designs on that too, which Sunset took serious umbrage with. As terrifying as the humans could be, she happened to very much like the world being intact so the humans she cared about could keep living there.

—Are we done feeling sorry for ourself yet? Because Spike’s on his way.—

Growling, she pushed herself to her feet. “Yeah, I’m done. I can process the disaster of my life when I’m not stuck in a dimension that actively hates me, and the lives of my friends and Twilight aren't at stake…but I swear, I might sleep through Spring Break. Or have a mental breakdown. I’m…not sure which is more appealing at this point.”

—Can't see anyone blaming us if we did.—

“Either way…the rest of my questions and all of this with the Elements, and you, and my magic…it can wait, but we will be talking at some point. We can't just…keep ignoring it. I can’t. Something happened to us, and whatever it is, Hell knows about it, and we have various inklings and feelings about it. So…don't think you’re off the hook.”

With that said, Sunset turned to greet the bounding form of Spike-the-Hellhound.

Author's Note

*hides in a bunker to await the inevitable explosions*

So...yeah.

Things.

Turns out magical realms can be petty assholes too.

And yeah, Sunset's...got some real rough self-loathing going on still. She's working through it, but...like...its a lifetime of shit, guys.

I will admit, this chapter was hard to write. We went through a dozen iterations before we found one we liked, and I still rewrote it three times to get it to where I was happy with it.

Still!

The plot doth thicken!

And yes, I know exactly who Sunset's parents were and what they looked like in Rubicon. Their whole story is scratched out in my files. Sadly, this is probably as close as you'll get to that....some Maybe human form versions in manufactured photos in some otherworldly illusionary backdrop for an argument. Maybe. Because like...Sunset cant recall them, so whose to say Hell has access to that knowledge. ANd if it does...then that raises other questions.

Anyway.

*enjoys cookies and cocoa in the fallout bunker waiting on the week's comments*