Show My Balls
Warning: sex, master/slave, dehumanization, testicles

"So," the skinny man mused as he stared down at the dark-skinned girl, "Why the fuck did you kick my balls?"

She stared up at him with unfocused yellow eyes through her hair, panting as a man at either side held her arms and forced her to bend at the waist. For a long time, she remained silent, before she finally dropped her head and spoke. "Fur-give me, mastuh? I got jealous when you looked away fur-om me... Purr-lease...?" She looked away, cheeks red. Her eyes and ears burned.

Her master chuckled. "Show my balls how sorry you are, Poppy." With an open hand, he waved toward his groin.

Poppy nodded and pulled forward quickly, breaking free of the two who held her. She knelt in front of the man as she purred loudly, rubbing her cheeks against his groin through his coarse pants. "I'm soooo sah'y, mastuhs! Sooo sah'y!"

The man allowed her to continue for several moments, then pressed his hand into her white curls and pushed her away a short distance. "Good," he whispered as he watched her stare at his groin, "Now, lick them."

Poppy hurriedly untied his trousers, then pulled them open. She coaxed his balls from within using careful fingers, and then moved his cock out of her way and pressed her lips against the soft bags below. His shaft rested against her face as she gave suckling kisses to her master's injured balls.

His cock began to harden against her face as her tongue and lips explored. His skin stretched and released with every lick and suckle.

Finally, her master shoved her face against himself. Her nose nestled beneath his cock, and she opened her mouth the breathe. Slick sweat ground itself up her nose.

"Suck them."

The order from above was all it took for her to shove her jaw forward and pull one side of his sack into her mouth. Her lips closed around it, and she moaned.

She shifted her weight forward. Her groin ground against the ground as she sought a better angle for her face, one that might let her breathe. She found it, and sucked in air through her nose.

His stench dizzied her, and her eyelids fluttered. Her tongue pressed against the testicle in her mouth while she moaned. Scratchy bristles on her tongue pulled at the skin as drool escaped to wet his trousers.

"'Atta girl," her master praised, and her purring began anew.

She increased her efforts, sucking and licking in patterns until a slight metallic flavor entered her mouth, and her eyes snapped open and upward, wide with fear.

"The other one," he grunted.

She nodded and pushed the first from her mouth, switching to the other as she treated it with more care.

It tightened in her mouth, and his cock twitched against her face.

Poppy whimpered. At this rate, he'd finish to only this. Her pussy throbbed as it ground against her clothing.

"Time for the real apology."

Poppy looked up, and his hand grasped her by the hair. He yanked her back, ball 'popping' audibly from her lips as he shoved her open mouth down his full length and into her throat, not bothering to let her wet or prepare herself first.

He held her there as she squirmed, and her moans vibrated against his glans while he looked to one side. "No food for her, and lock her in that belt so she can't touch herself—" The word cut short as he grunted.

Thick seed caught in her throat, and he kept himself within it even as her squirming became writhing, and he felt her teeth against his flesh. He shoved a thumb against one of her molars and let her bite her cheek instead.

He drew himself from inside her, then tossed her aside as she vomited back his 'gift'. His laughter sent a chill through her body, and she looked back towards him.

"From now until you die, your master is my balls. They'll feed you, if you're good to them."

She stared a few moments as her mouth hung open, before she began to cough.
 
A Hot Shower

"K, you need to take a shower," Marshall urged. Patient as he was, and tolerant as he was, K was especially stinky, and even a week after they escaped Hell, red dust still clung to the androgyne. "I'm not letting you avoid it again. I'll be right outside."

With that, Marshall pointed firmly to the freshly-emptied communal washroom. "There's nobody else in there," he promised.

K remained still aside from swaying on his feet for a long time before he nodded, the movement tiny. He stank of nerves.

Marshall waited another moment, then sighed. "Go on. I'll wash your clothes. You're tired of sand grinding against your skin, aren't you?"

It was subtle, but K's head lifted just slightly. In the next moment, he dropped his backpack and slipped out of his shoes before he entered the washroom.

It was mostly stone, with showers along two walls and two large baths at the left front. Sinks with mirrors lined the right front, and the back of the room appeared empty. Not a single privacy wall offered K a place to hide in the room, but as he looked toward the doorway, he spotted Marshall guarding.

It helped untie the knot in his gut, if only a little.

K finished stripping, covering his chest as he tossed his clothes past the man. Face red and eyes stinging, he darted to the furthest shower and cranked it on. It hit the farthest edge as K stood directly in the stream, and held his breath.

The water started out cold. K didn't expect it to change. He had no magic to activate the hot water.

He forgot that in this world, that wasn't needed.

The water quickly grew hot, and then burning.

K backed away, and his foot slipped on the wet stone below. He shrieked, and before his head could hit the floor, Marshall was there.
 
Coping
Warning: death mention

Elizabeth sat behind her desk, waiting. She fidgeted with an old bullet s she alternated between looking at it and at the door. The expected knock came, and her eyes locked onto the door. "Enter," she called, and the door opened.

On the other side, Seela held the end of a chain, and entered the office, pulling along the offender at the other end.

A sullen brunette behind Seela glanced up at Elizabeth, and then scowled as she looked away, but took the offered seat, and as Seela exited, she opened her mouth to speak, only to frown as she saw Elizabeth raise one finger.

Elizabeth rose and strode across the small office, then drew a rune on the door in chalk before she returned to her seat and steepled her hands, staring at her chained guest.

"Bio," Elizabeth greeted.

"Hey," Bio answered.

Silence stretched between them for a long time before Elizabeth sighed and sat up straight, weariness etched into every feature.

"Bio, why in the hells are you here?"

Bio bit her lips, then let them slide out before she answered, "Yer crony brought me?"

"No. Why are you in the Hunter headquarters?" Elizabeth's eyes narrowed. "Why did a Hunter have to take you into custody? You are supposed to be keeping a low profile!" Elizabeth clasped her hands together tightly to keep from smashing her desk as she leaned forward, waiting.

The prisoner huffed. "Ain't mah fault Ah cain't find mah totem..."

"You're not going to find it," Elizabeth snapped, "Because I had it hidden!"

Bio's gaze locked onto Elizabeth, and she sat up straighter despite her shackles. "What?"

"I took it to prevent you doing something stupid and permanent."

Bio began to stand, but Elizabeth remained seated, one brow raised. A moment passed, and Bio returned to her seat. "Why?"

"I've witnessed Sinclair dying twice before, and he returned both times. I'm sure he's going to show up again."

Shackles clinked as Bio clenched her hands together and lowered her face. Her voice lost its belligerence, becoming meek. "Y'think so?"

"Yes."

Bio closed her eyes and shuddered.

Elizabeth kept going. "He went out of his way to see you and Rare before his form died in Utopia. Before he met you, he kept returning for Rare. I believe that when he returns, he'll be looking for you two again."

Bio's shoulders sagged, and she buried her face in her hands.

Elizabeth's voice softened. "Why are you crying?"

With a sniffle, Bio stammered out, "Ah miss 'im... Ah... Ah need 'im..."

Elizabeth bit her cheek to keep from scolding her over saying such a thing, and instead stood. She walked around the desk and stood beside Bio, and let her hand rest on the other woman's shoulder. "He gave you something to do while you waited, you know."

Bio looked up, her gaze an unspoken question.

"The pocket dimension. He wanted you to explore it and enjoy the discoveries you make within. Six told you this, did she not?"

Bio sniffled and looked away. "Mighta not heard it..."

"Id—" Elizabeth cut off as she noticed the flinch, and cleared her throat. "It's alright. High emotions tend to do that to people." A pause, and then, "Why did you end up in custody, anyway?"

"Ah... mighta gotten inta the way of some Hunters doin' their jobs and did it for 'em cuz they were muckin' it up." Bio looked up, a small half-smile teasing at one cheek.

With a quiet chuckle, Elizabeth shook her head. "I'll smooth it out, then send you home for some rest and a good meal before you begin your exploration."
 
The Return
Warning: death mention, suicide attempt

Footsteps echoed through the chill hall, and dust left undisturbed for years rose and swirled.

The long hall held few doors, all but one of which were closed. Lights from the open doorway flickered into the metal-walled hall, scattering through the stirred dust as voices, sounds, and music suddenly cut off.

"What do you want?" a harsh voice from the room asked as the footsteps grew close enough for the denizen to hear.

The person who entered said nothing, but paused for a moment before continuing.

"I asked you a question—" the harsh voice cut off suddenly as its owner and the intruder looked at each other.

The denizen wore loose clothes in what may have been vivid colors years ago. They hung against her near-skeletal figure as she stared, brown eyes wide.

For centuries, this intruder had been dead. She saw him die, dug through his corpse to try to find any bit of him still alive, but found none. He left her to feel alone, an outsider among a family that knew each other, with only a pocket dimension as comfort.

He left her to become a personal doctor to a cat and to deliver six dead kittens. She had to lock one into stasis for its own survival.

The dimension felt empty even in its wonder. None walked beside her.

Because he left her.

He promised to show her the multiverse, to bring wonder back into her life, but his death created his failure as the beauty of discovery faded.

All these thoughts and more swirled through her mind at once until they landed on one word—one name.

Sin.

Others called him Sinclair, Elliot, or Sinner. Firstborn, father, or lover.

To her, he was simply Sin, and as he stood before her, her hand reached for the gun that rested on the side of her chair.

"Had this dream too many... too many times," she stammered quietly as she lifted the gun to her head and pulled the trigger, eyes not daring to leave the man who failed to save her, even as the trigger clicked and the gun refused to fire.

Sin closed the distance and pushed the gun away. Calm grey eyes stared down at her, but her gaze didn't rise. Again and again, she clicked the trigger, even as Sin pulled the gun from her hand, until it fell away to the ground.

Her eyes lifted again to his face.

"You died," she croaked, "You died, you died, you died..."

Sin ignored her words as he pulled her to her feet and held her. One hand cradled her head against his chest, his heartbeat slow and steady to her ear as he waited, lips pressed to the top of her head.

Her quiet repetitions continued, even as his grip around her tightened.
 
The Slap
Warning: anger

Elizabeth's eyes blazed as she marched through the portal. White fury sent an unseen wind whipping around her robes. Her lips formed a pale, thin line, and wide eyes stared forward at the object of her anger.

She stopped in front of Sinclair, staring with undisguised rage as she drew back her hand, with just enough restraint to keep from lethal force as the clap resounded in the silent yard.

Before he could fall, she grabbed him by his shirt to catch him.

"Why in the seven hells did you wait this long?" she demanded in a harsh whisper. "Do you have any idea what you've done in waiting this long to return? YOU. YOU get to find Bio and Jerry and make sure they're safe!"

She inhaled sharply through her nose.

"Take Poppy, Penny, Elli, Bear, and Falren, and this phone." Her voice shook with her anger, and she shoved a phone into Sinclair's hand. "Take whoever else you want as well, but get going immediately. The Council. Is. Coming."
 
Return to Torment
Warning: sexual description, rape, self-harm, mental illness

Poppy woke, hands clapping over her mouth as she looked around in the darkness. Her John remained asleep, even as she noticed cooling liquid on her face—tears.

Slowly, careful not to wake the man, Poppy slipped from the bed and to the bathroom. Quiet as she could, she retched into the toilet and flushed it, wincing at the loud rush of water in stark contrast to the silent night.

Her stomach churned as her nightmare played in bits and pieces through her mind, and she dry-heaved into the toilet.

A dribble of semen down her thigh, and she froze in place, unable to move or breathe until suddenly, she threw herself into the shower and cranked it to its hottest setting. Her skin reddened and burned, but she didn't care. She began to scrub herself, every inch, inside and out.

She took a brush to the inside of both vagina and anus, scraping until white bristles came out pink, and her muscles spasmed. She leaned against the wall and slid to the floor of the shower, panting as she gripped the brush tight. Her shoulders banged against the shower wall as she let the water run over her face.

She crawled back into her John's bed just in time to look at him and find him glaring at her.

Empty-eyed and thoroughly bruised, Poppy stumbled through the door at the address written on her hand. Heavy bass and the vibrations of the music hit her before anything else did, and her gaze lifted from the floor.

A man in a suit, his limbs far too long and his head stretched, stared at her with lifted eyebrows and a broad, too broad grin.

She turned, stricken suddenly in terror, before countless hands grasped her and dragged her to Loki, where she trembled and stared up at him.

"Worlds shatter, and look who's back as a whore!" he shouted. Riotous laughter rose from the fae around.

Loki's voice.

That sadistic crowd's laughter.

She knew them despite the centuries—the sounds never left her alone for long. They visited at night, when none could protect her. They taunted her, and clawed her defenses.

In a blink, Loki was there. He pulled her to his feet with his long fingers wrapped around her wrist, and she only stared. Her mind refused to comprehend this as anything but another of her recurring nightmares, even as Loki's free hand began to roam her flesh.

"You know," he said simply after a few moments, "You're no fun like this. How about I make you... forget. Forget all about last time, all about how the everything ended and broke, forget all about... everything." His eyes narrowed as that impossible grin grew further.

She couldn't answer. Her mind felt fogged being in this place. She didn't know if she answered or not before Loki assured her it would be all better soon.

... That was right, she and Elli were looking for the Elixir. Where was Elli? Did that... thing catch him? She shuddered.

"Elli?" she called in a trembling voice.

"He's not here. I saved _you_." A strange being, the nearest of those in the strange club, grinned as he gripped her nipples and pulled hard.

A sudden squeal escaped Poppy, and she stumbled forward.
 
An Impossible Wish
warning: death mention

From across the Multiverse, the last Firstborn could hear it. Isolated with his eternal companion, he heard a name—his own—not one that he used in the company of others, but one that he might have longed to hear another being say.

He'd long ago killed the others who would have used it.

He lifted his head from his work in time to witness a portal open a short distance away, and it closed after a human-like woman stepped through.

She looked human only at first blush, but it didn't take long for differences to become apparent.

The most obvious of these differences was a black, crown-like growth that emerged from her forehead.

She was tiny, for one—the size of a child. Her body was unnaturally narrow, her bust was several times too large for her figure, and her head and especially her eyes were just a little to large. Very little of those eyes' whites were visible around her red irises, and she stared at the Firstborn with the direct and tired gaze of someone too tired to perform a social dance.

"There you are," she murmured in English and stepped toward Sinclair. "I am told you are the Sinner. You perform impossible feats, sometimes on accident. Curiosity drives you forward, and you leave destruction in your wake..."

She reached forward, and small fingers wrapped around his hand.

"In all of existence, there is nobody better suited to grant my wish. Please, Sinner, kill me."

Pain erupted in her head at those words, and she stumbled. It echoed in her mind, millions of voices screaming, while at the same time, the horrible pressure of her crown increased. The skin at the base stretched as the black spires grew, until finally...

Her vision turned white.
 
Freedom's Agony

Through the agony, Jade spoke. Through the bleeding in her forehead as the crown grew more than it ever had. This was her breaking point, but what Silver promised...

What Silver promised she could have, this was the only way, and she'd been so good for so long but it never brought her reward. Here, now, they would either succeed or she would fall into madness.

"The shields are just past this door," she breathed, gripping Silver's sleeve tight with one small hand. She wanted this. She wanted to either fall into madness, to cease being herself, or...

Or to know what it was like to be free.

"The passcode is... nine zero two six one zero."

The five tones sounded, and she lifted her head to watch as Silver held the hand of an officer to the reader, then held the matching earpiece in range of the sensor.

After a few moments, a quiet beep, and the door hissed as the seal opened. The door parted, and Jade stumbled forward, catching herself as she approached what kept her here—what kept her from being found by those Silver was so certain must be looking for her.

She sat at the desk, she opened the laptop, and she looked the screen over.

Blood ran down her face, but she ignored both it and the black spots in her vision as she began to input the command to deactivate the shields.

"Jade Mortimer-Senate. Stop."

The voice immediately halted her fingers, and she tensed as her head throbbed.

"Ignore him," Silver said, bringing merciful relief, though not enough.

Jade finished typing the deactivation command, and she readied to hit enter.

"I have your dice."

Jade stopped, growing still.

With those, there was an easy way out. With those, she could enter that darkness again, that blessed darkness with no pain, that she entered any time her heart stopped, and she remained until it started again.

She would never have to return to her painful world if she had those dice.

Thud!

She jerked and started to look back, but a chill hand stopped her. Another reached past and hit the enter key for her, saving her that agony. Lips pressed to her temple, and then, "Nice of him to give those to me," Silver joked.

Jade shuddered with a restrained sob, and looked up at Silver. "I... need an order... something simple," she begged.

"Touch your nose," Silver ordered, and as Jade did, her agony ebbed. With the deed done, with her betrayal of the Unifiers complete, she no longer had to think about it. No longer was actively doing it. "And now," Silver said, to figure out the next step." Another kiss to the temple, and Jade closed her eyes.

"I... need rest," she whispered.

"I'm sorry. We can't rest here."

Jade nodded and started to rise, but fell back into the seat, blinking rapidly.

Silver watched a moment, then simply bent and lifted her up, holding the tiny woman close to herself as she made her way from the room, stepping over a man's fresh corpse.
 
Waiting Rooms

Ah, the waiting room...

She'd been here before.

Jade sat, quiet and prim, and looked toward the man who sat across from her. He was tall and slender, with long blond hair and beautiful blue eyes.

He always seemed sad.

She knew she wouldn't be here long, so she walked to the man quickly as he stared down at a thick book, and as her shadow fell over him, he looked up, meeting her gaze.

"You always seem so sad," Jade murmured. A moment of hesitation, and she cupped his face. A tear ran down his cheek, and a thumb brushed it away. "I wish I knew how to make you smile, my lord." She smiled at him.

She never understood why, but always when she saw him, she felt a stirring in her chest, and got the impression he was not only important, but for him to be unhappy was worse than a sin—it simply should not be.

Stronger than they looked, his arms wrapped around her. He began to apologize, to sob, and she blinked, stunned, as he called her sweet endearments and stroked her hair.

"Little bird, I'm so sorry—"

She blinked and her back straightened as her mind slammed back in time.

_Her father hugged her and stroked her hair as she hiccuped through her sobs, gripping the leg of a broken doll.

"Little bird, I'm so sorry..."_

Jade's arms suddenly wrapped around the man. "Father...?" she asked finally, and his grip tightened. He nodded into her shoulder, and she inhaled sharply.

She closed her eyes tight, and the warmth of his arms around her disappeared.

Before she opened her eyes again, she already knew, but she opened them anyway, hopeful until she saw the canopy over her bed.

She had not truly died yet.

"Please," she begged in a tiny voice, but her request died on her lips as a throb of pain in her forehead reminded her of the futility if such a request.
 
Midnight Meetings
RoSe

A week came and a week went.

"Rare?"

Poppy's voice, speaking without an accent, caught Rare's ear, and the two stared at each other a moment before Rare patted the seat beside her on the bench-swing where she sat stargazing in the balmy summer night.

"Have a seat," she invited, pale eyes on Poppy as she sensed Poppy's troubled scent.

Poppy fidgeted in place a moment, then nodded and hurried to suddenly sit beside her.

They remained quiet for a time as Rare awaited the inevitable, and Poppy struggled with memory and emotion, until the cat sniffled, rubbed her nose, then started to rise with a muttered "Nevermind."

Rare caught her by the sleeve and simply held it. "I want to help," she assured as she watched Poppy's shoulders shake, "Please let me."

Poppy whimpered quietly, then sniffed aloud and looked back. "'Ow do you... 'andle it so well...?"

Rare knew what the question meant, and she slowly pulled Poppy down beside her as she stared forward, feeling feline eyes glued to her.

"Honestly? Not as well as you think. For me... it's... normal. For you? For you, it shouldn't be. It's going to hurt. It hurt a lot when I was young, before I knew my place."

Rare forced a deep breath.

"I hated it. I have always hated when I haven't had control over my own fate, my own body, my own life. It was worse when even my greatest efforts could do nothing."

She scowled, then looked at Poppy. "I can't do jack fucking shit about what happened to you, but I can offer hugs. Support. An ear. A shoulder. That sort of thing."

In the next moment, Fluffy hair pushed against Rare's chin, and quiet sobs came from below. Rare stroked Poppy's back as they held each other tight.

They were the things Rare had wished for so long ago...
 
Overgrowth

Over the years, the small Ober-bush grew. It blossomed in the spring, but never went to seed, and it grew. It grew and a nook formed on its roots that encircled and cradled the graves of Poppy's kittens.

Elizabeth planted flowers beside: poppies to honor and remember the fallen. She planted others, as well, and turned the grave site into a beautiful garden.

And the garden grew, and it resisted weeds, and no other graves joined them.

But the bush became a tree with bulging trunk and branches, and its branches spread wide.

When the shadow of the growing tree touched the house, a dream visited Felicie.

A familiar face, grown from the tree in the yard, stared down at her. The face was big, and the tree was larger than life.

Its eyes opened to reveal rainbow-hues that stared down at her, sadness in their gaze.

"Felicie" and "Pretty" slid from the face's lips both at once, overlapping and sending its sorrow out to her.

He sounded tired.

His thoughts assaulted her, all at once in a stream.

"You hurt me. That scent on your body was a dagger. I felt dead inside since I smelled it. It still hurts. Death didn't end the pain. I hoped it would. You betrayed me. You rejected me. You rejected our unborn child. My heart hurts. I can't trust you. I have to stay for Elli."

The babble of thoughts faded one by one into silence, followed by a single question.

"Why?"

One word carried the weight of all he said before, and though the face showed no emotion, iridescent tears sliced down the tree's bark.

"WHY."
 
Too Many Minutes
Warning: angst

Two thirty one in the morning.

Bio had always known it would be like this. She and Sin shared a bond, but his heart didn't burn or yearn for her like it did for Rare.

Rare, who had done nothing to look for him. Rare, who feared him—who he hurt so deeply and thoughtlessly. Rare, who nestled against him, wrapped up in his arms, peaceful and pretty and holding his seed inside of her body.

Jealousy flared.

For so long, she fought against the emotion that now rose. She had been so certain that if she only had a little bit of Sin's attention—just a shred of affection—she would be fine.

Watching them now from her side of the bed, harsh bitterness tightened her throat.

Rare hadn't even wanted Sin, but she was the one who got him. Bio felt no doubt that if Rare asked something of him, he would only pause long enough to figure out _how_—and that was the thing. Rare _wouldn't_. Rare asked nothing of Sin, and perhaps that was why she held his heart so firmly.

Bio slid from the bed with an absent-minded lie about needing to use the bathroom, then left the room—ignoring the attached bathroom entirely. Bare feet padded down the upstairs hall and then the stairs.

Two lefts after the bottom, and then another, and she stood in front of Jerry's door.

She stopped her hand just before touching the knob, and she closed her eyes, trying to banish the moisture at the corner of one eye.

She didn't want to show Jerry her pain. He had enough of his own, and—

A realization came unbidden to her mind.

How would Jerry feel, if she sought him out after reuniting with Sin? Would he feel like she did now—more alone with a person than without? What if he loved her, and this whole time, she'd been doing to him what Sin did to her without realizing?

These thoughts mingled and spiraled, even as her hand slowly lowered itself back to her side.

"How selfish am Ah?" she asked in a tiny voice, more to herself than anyone else, too choked to make more than a creaky whisper. Her arms slowly lifted to hug herself, squeezing tight as she stared at the bottom of the door, not daring to look up as she let her feet carry her down to her lab.

"He loves 'Liza, anyway..." she tried to console herself as she descended. If she remembered right about what Poppy said, she found Jerry surrounded by photos and print-outs of dark-skinned women with light hair, masturbating to them furiously.

What chance did a pale woman with dark hair have? Least of all one who'd drilled at his teeth and forced him into playing nurse for everything but his own operations? He went along with just about anything, and she'd taken advantage so much without even noticing.

She forced a deep, unsteady breath as she heard an electronic voice to one side, but didn't catch what it said.

"Uh?" She looked up toward the approaching AI in its hoverbot chasis.

"What's wrong, Mistress?" the digital voice repeated.

Her lips twitched to one side, but even that small smile faded as quick as it came.

"'Couldn't begin to put it to words," she managed as she continued down the stairs and into her lab.

Her eyes landed on her bed, then drifted toward Jerry's favorite chair. How many late nights had she offered to share the bed, only for him to sleep on the chair? When had she given up offering?

Had he even noticed?

Would anyone notice that she went to bed with Sin and Rare, but wasn't there anymore?

Would anyone notice if she just wasn't there at all?

The last thought brought her pause. Logically, she knew they would. She was the family's doctor. Aster lived in the nursery in her lab. The girls and Jerry were down there often, and Elizabeth demanded she emerge for at least one meal a day.

But the answer she felt in the hollowest parts of her chest was _no_.

She wouldn't be missed. Sin was there, now. He could easily take over the doctoring aspect. The girls would be fine—they still had their parents, why did they need a stupid woman like her around? Penny was healthy now, and Valiant had never been sick.

Besides that, she was stupid and broken.

Surely, it would be a relief to have her gone now that she wasn't needed anymore.

At nine-thirteen in the morning, Bio sent a text to each person in the house.

```Everything will be ok now. Bye.```

She reached toward her machine—the same that almost punched Valiant and Penny from existence. There was neither a deep breath nor hesitation.

She wore only a dead stare and dry tears as she began to make the final adjustments.

All that was left was to press the button and wait for it to finish its calculations.

As she placed a finger on the button, she noticed how it trembled, and stared at it, unable to will herself to press down—to send herself away and out into the void between universes.
 
A Look At Cass

"Does it bother you also that we only know of now-Captain, and not past-Captain?" Public Relations Officer Zozz'zu asked as they looked to Navigator Krrm.

Krrm bobbed his antenna once in assent, but said nothing as he watched Captain Cass Scian stare at the stars through the wide windows.

"I am going to ask of past-Captain again during games night," Zozz'zu declared quietly. "Past-Captain must surely have glory-filled past, and being modest."

"Zozz'zu is going to ruin the shared crew recreations period again," Krrm buzzed silently to warn the rest of the crew, but did not answer Zozz'zu directly.

"Get back to work," Cass called absently as she looked back at them.

Of course, when 'night' came and it was time to get together for games, Cass arrived to find only Zozz'zu present. She gave the avianoid a smile, and Zozz'zu assumed she was in good cheer.

"The games night is upon us. I am prepared!" Zozz'zu declared. "I will triumph!"

"It is being of useless if nobody being of coming," Cass answered.

Zozz'zu went still. The smile was a lie! Their contented fluff slicked back in uncertainty. "Captain is displeased?" they asked.

"Nobody being of coming because everybody hearing Zozz'zu of luining night."

Oh no. She was getting worse.

Zozz'zu trilled softly and raised their loosely-balled talons to try to calm the captain. "I am sorry. I do not intend to ruin the games night. I only want to ask about past-Captain, before Captain was Captain."

Cass turned and left the room. "No glolies," was her quick answer.

Zozz'zu's fluff slicked down all the more, revealing an awkward-looking body structure. Their jaw hung open, eyes wide and showing their whites, before they hurried after Cass. "Wait! Wait! I sorry! Sorry sorry!" In their stress, they reverted to 'baby speak'. "I sorry! No be mad? Sorry?" Each word sounded more chirp-like than the last.

Finally, Cass stopped in front of the door to her quarters and looked back at Zozz'zu. "Stop asking," she said, then shut the door almost on Zozz'zu's face.

Zozz'zu spent the whole night keening and pacing, but by morning, Cass seemed to forget the previous night.

"Good morning!" she greeted with a broad grin as she left her quarters. "You are looking skinny. Come with me to breakfast!"

Zozz'zu stared at her, only to squawk as she grabbed them by the claw and started toward the mess. She acted like Zozz'zu had not asked a forbidden question!

"Zozz'zu is... forgiven?" they dared to ask.

She stopped and looked back, the cheer gone from her face. "Maybe!" She then grinned broadly and dragged them into the mess.

"Goooood morning!" she crowed to the other crewmembers who were waking—and some who were eating their shift-end meal.