SCREAMING MUST ENSUE==>

Your first reaction is to begin screaming, but that would be a stupid waste of time, so- Wait,  what's that sound? Oh. It's you, totally screaming. 

Sketch doesn't react. You realize that he looks a little different than usual. His hair is a little darker. There's a bit more of it. Yeah, he's definitely younger. You're still in a memory world. Whatever. 

He talks into a walkie-talkie and walks toward a red minivan. You're in a parking lot that probably deserves better examination. 

Sketch: Trust me, Danielle. That thing will be out of it's crevice in no time. Well, be ready, that's all. Or you'll die, and your teammates will die. Not a good look, huh? Remember, both Alice and Audrey have kids now. Don't want to orphan anyone, do we? 

Audrey... Wasn't that the name of Wren's mom? You decide to get your bearings, and look around. Not specifically for anyone, definitely not.

LOOK AROUND ==>

You glance around the parking lot. It's outside a shopping mall, which you recognize as the Southbound Mall. Said mall is currently an abandoned shell, but at this point in time, it looks fully operational, if closed. It is nighttime. The mall was basically doomed from the get-go, given that it's on an island with a disproportionately impoverished population, but it hung on from the late seventies to the early two thousands. Given that Wren and Alex's mom apparently have already had kids, it must be the latter. Wait... Didn't Wren's mom die on a mission? You sincerely hope you're not about to bear witness to your best friend being orphaned, but the logic by which this demon slurry you drank functions makes you think that's a pretty likely outcome. 

There's an unsettlingly deep and wide crevice in the asphalt, and something about it disturbed you, even, more than your average parking lot cavern would. (So, a lot.) You have no doubt something you'd rather not see is going to crawl out of it any second now, so let's quit lying to ourselves and do what you always meant to anyway.

LOOK AROUND (FOR TRACY) ==> 

The mask is off, and you're embarrassingly infatuated. It's gross, honestly. You look around, and you see them, and your brain constructs a dozen metaphors to describe your happiness, none of which the omnipresent narration intends on addressing, since they all suck. They're wandering alone, further off in the parking lot. They don't see you.

They look kind of upset, actually.

Oh jeez.

They look like they've been crying, maybe? You really have no idea how to approach the situation, but you know you should do something.

What do you do? 

~~ 

rrrrr... i'm not happy with this part, it's a hasty replacement for a first attempt at one, which i lost permanently, because my tablet sucks.... bear with me. 

ASK IF THEY'RE OKAY==>

You're actually very uncertain as to whether this is the right thing to do... But you think about it and decide that it's at least something. You wave at them, and they turn and do a double take, before walking briskly up to you. Yeah, they've definitely been crying. The fact that something could have happened to make them so upset makes you feel like hurling the whole earth into the sun.

YOU: Hey Tracy. Are you alright? 

A pause.

Tracy: mmm... No? 

YOU: I, yeah, I get that, sorry. I didn't know what else to say. Uh, I guess a better question would be: do you want to talk about it?

They shake their head.

Tracy: No... Sorry. Nothing personal, but the vision I just had was. Um. I don't want to talk about it. I'm really glad that you're here though.

You nod, and wait what are you doing. You're putting your hand up. You're making a fist. No. There's no way you're doing this. You are. You're putting your fist out for a fist bump. They smile and accept. That was really dumb. You have no idea what you're doing.

YOU: (i have no idea what i'm doing)

Tracy: You're doing just fine, Aberdeen. 

You said that out loud. You're crashing. It's over.

What do you do

Sam (I'm sorry if he wouldn't wear this shirt; I didn't know what an "unstylish t-shirt" was so I looked up it up but all the pictures were of shirts... um that I'd rather not draw, so then I just pulled one of my shirts out and copied it 'cuz my brother says I'm like the least stylish person ever, so... that's why. I do love this shirt though. :D and yes the unicorn really does look like that on the shirt. Also you will see that I didn't color anything. This is because I was too lazy. I'll come back and color it later (except for the skin. I usually don't color skin (see Wren and Diana) bc it's too hard to find the right colors :/).)

THANK THEM ==>

YOU: Thanks. I guess.

Tracy: For what?

YOU: I dunno. For putting up with me. For letting me be an awkward freak when I should be consoling you. For thinking I'm cool, somehow, when obviously I suck. I guess my swagless looks and cringe fail personality captivated you. I don't know why anyone would want to put up with me.

Tracy:... Okay, firstly, none of what you just said describes you in the slightest. I think you're neat, dude. I think we could be okay together, if slightly codependent possibly. But you're... It's like you build a Russian nesting doll around yourself, and you can only be yourself when you're completely desperate. I like that part of you. 

YOU: The desperate part? 

Tracy: Yeah. Your cringe fail personality captivated me. You're like a bug encased in amber, and buddy, I am doctor John Alfred Hammond. Let's make dinosaurs happen. 

All of that sounds good to you. And that's how you know you're done for. And then the fog starts flowing from the crevice.

In your adolescent folly, you have forgotten where you are. Namely, in a dream world, in a parking lot, beside what looks like a gate to Tartarus. Steam, fog, smoke, whatever it is... It flows up from the crevice, and a sharp noise comes with it. And then the first set of hands come out. Clutching into asphalt, clawing. Like human hands, but with elongated fingers and a leathery look to them. Then another set. A third. You stop keeping exact count at the seventh. 

The minivan behind you rumbles. Some sort of standoff between whatever subterranean abominations the mall parking lot holds and Sketch's doomed Six is clearly imminent.

One of the underground things pulls itself up fully. It looks humanoid, like how a rabid coyote looks like a dog, or a wolverine looks like a ferret. It has leathery skin all over, big white eyes. It's hairless, with a wide mouth full of... Well, not fangs, not exactly. Black gums too. It looks all around gross.

Tracy: Hey, I might actually have an idea what these guys are.

YOU: Okay. I don't.

Tracy: Some forums I've been on, cryptozoology stuff, I don't know... They call things like these Crawlers. Supposedly they're like, the rats of the monster world. There were a few obviously doctored photos. Though, I guess they might not have been doctored.

YOU: Current evidence would point to that as a distinct possibility.

Suddenly the minivan is roaring toward you, blasting Creedence Clearwater Revival of all things. You're about to find out if you can get hit by a car in a dream. What do you do?

SHUN A NEW EXPERIENCE ==>

You decide you can go without learning how the tread marks on a tire taste. Tracy also decides that this is a valid perspective. The two of you dive into the lot to avoid the car.

Tracy: Well... Apparently you can scrape your knee in a memory, so it's probably good that we avoided being, you know, ground into mulch. 

YOU: Well, it's always been my dream to not die. So far it keeps coming true. 

That's the dumbest quip you have ever made. That's the dumbest thing you've ever said. Your brain is rotting. The car screeches to a stop at the front of the crevice. The "Crawlers" peer at the minivan. Sketch steps out. Flanking him are three young women. The oldest two bear a remarkable resemblance to Wren and Alex. You decide that they're probably Aubrey and Alice. The youngest looks a lot like them too. You don't know her name.  Stepping out of the car are what is clearly a younger Terrance Zhu, and Danielle. Also, a young African American woman with a limp. She looks pissed, also she has a sword. Always an interesting combination. 

Alice(?): Dad. There are a lot of these guys. I don't know if we can take all them.

Sketch: I regret to inform you that you are going to have to. You will face far worse challenges than a few homeless cavemen. And don't call me dad.

Aubrey(?): Look, what do you want us to call you? There's no comparable word in English. 

Danielle: Nor Hokkien.

Sketch: Danielle, you have less than a say in family affairs. You have a negative say. And yes, I attended to your delusions when you were younger, Aubrey, but you have grown. 

Alice: Are you going to let Alex or Winton call you Grandpa? 

Sketch: For a while, I'm sure. Look, let us put this bickering aside, and fight the battle at hand, yes? Alice, sweetness, remember what I taught you. If you shoot for the moon and miss...

Alice: You die in the cold abyss of space.

Sketch: Right. No room for failure. Kill the Crawlers.

They do. The swordswoman uses her sword, the others use sticks, hammers, and pipes from the back of the car to beat back the advancing Crawlers. You think a bit about the weird conversation between Sketch and his daughters. Of course, the mayhem around you is distracting.

The first person to be injured is the youngest Hawthorne, the one you don't know the name of. She's knocked to the ground by a crowd of Crawlers, and Terrance, who seems to be the designated medic, scoops her into the minivan. Your view of him may be warped due to him being known to you mostly as "Diana's Dad," but he's always seemed incredibly laid-back to you. Seeing him high-strung as he is now makes you wonder how much of that is genuine calm, and how much is self defense over everything he must have seen. 

The swordswoman is next. After shish kebabing so many of these freakish things, you guess it was only time before they got her. They pile onto her, and you know she's a goner. Thankfully Tracy distracts you before you see anything grisly. They beckon you over to the open crevice.

Tracy: How deep do you think this thing goes?

You look down. It's black, but you see a faint blue, maybe. Water? You're not sure. 

You: Dunno. Deep, for sure. 

Tracy:... Wanna try to get in? 

Huh. Sounds risky.

Do you climb into the hole?

PROBABLY NOT==>

YOU: Yeah, sorry man, but it's gonna have to be a major no from me. 

Tracy: That's fair. I guess we don't really know what's going on down there. 

YOU: Or how deep it is. 

Tracy: Yeah... No spelunking. Got it. 

The two of you turn back toward the ongoing battle. Alice and Audrey are fighting, tooth and nail, toward the fallen swordswoman, although she's clearly dead. Alice is screaming her name, over and over. "Margo." Aubrey swings mean right hooks at the Crawlers. Jeez, she does look like Wren. More than an ordinary parent resembles their child, really. You look further back to see Danielle clobbering Crawlers with a sledgehammer, and Terrance beating them back with a... Pool cue? Sketch is standing near the car, watching. It honestly creeps you out. He's just... Watching. 

Aubrey turns to Alice, shouting over the cacophony of violence. 

Aubrey: Alice! Go back to the car. Get the explosive. I'll get Margo. 

Alice: Are you sure? 

Aubrey: I know I can make it. We need to at least be able to destroy their nest. 

Alice nods, sprinting back to the minivan. Aubrey turns back toward Margo's body, and trudges through the sea of humanoid flesh. You are privately relieved that you didn't crawl into a monster nest and get blown up. 

Aubrey leaps toward Margo, only to skid a little too close to the edge of the pit. She lets out a sharp release of air between her front teeth, and walks a little further back. She wisely walks with her front facing the crevice, but unfortunately leaves her back exposed to the Crawlers. You see it coming from a mile away.

An unusually brave Crawler leaps toward her. It latches onto her back. She hitches forward, but rights her balance. She tries to shake it off, but she slips. The two grapple on the ground for what feels like forever but is probably a few seconds. And then the two fall into the pit, both struggling, and both are consumed by the darkness. 

Alice screams her throat raw. Terrance stares, open mouthed, and you wonder how much of this guy's attitude, the man you know mainly as Diana's Dad, the guy who never raises his voice or looks anything worse than slightly bemused, comes straight from this moment. You wonder how much of his personality was built in self defense. 

Sketch: Okay. We need to blow up the nest and leave. Margo is down, Aubrey is down, Aniston is in critical condition. We torch the place and run. 

Alice: Dad, Aubrey is still down there. She might be okay, we need to-

Sketch: It's a nest. There are hundreds of them in there. She's not okay. 

Alice looks at him with disgust.

Alice: She has a kid. You owe her the chance- 

Sketch: She had her chance and failed. No room for failure. I owe her nothing.

Alice: Then you owe Winton the chance to grow up with a mother. We can't leave her. 

Sketch: I'll raise him myself. We torch the nest and go. 

Alice: I'm not letting someone like you anywhere near that kid. You're not a general. We are not heroes. There were six of us and now there's four. We're not killing Apophis for you, so why can't you just be what you always should've been? Be our dad, and look out for us-

He cuts her off, cold fury growing in his voice.

Sketch: You're not heroes. That much is suddenly incredibly clear to me. I am aware. You are failures. I don't need a step-by-step dissertation on how exactly you messed this up, because I. Saw. It. I am torching the nest, and leaving. 

Alice looks desperately at Terrance. He nods swiftly, and swings the pool cue at Sketch, who grabs it out of his hand, and slams it into his leg. Terrance collapses, and Sketch walks around the car, pulling out a box. It's black.

Danielle: Please don't do this, sir. It's not-

Sketch smiles widely. It's the most unsettling thing you've ever seen. 

Sketch: If my own flesh and blood cannot persuade me, why would you possibly think you can? 

He throws the box. 

It falls into the hole. 

Green fire shoots out, illuminating everything. A glass tube, a lot like the cloning tubes you saw in Hastur's lair, shoots out, shattering on the ground in front of you.

You look at Tracy. They look at you. You both know, instinctively, that this vision has almost ended. You both know that whatever the next thing you experience will be, you will have to go it alone. They kiss you goodbye, and it's the most terrifying thing that has ever happened to you, and it must look ridiculous, but you don't care. You lean in, you close your eyes, and you know that when you open them, all of this will be gone.

You open your eyes.

~~~

yo! no command necessary, since ill be gone for a few days. terrible stopping point, i know and apologize. chapter two of act two is almost finished! i can't believe it. wish me well on my trip and whisper to your children of the day i promised i would return.

I decided to add Tracy and tried a lot of things with them that didn't work, plus I have no idea what's happening here. Enjoy! :D :/ :) (<-- that was probably a confusing spew of emoticons but yes). (I skipped the lamp bc I'm supposed to be sleeping btw so bye-)

...

You blink. The place you're in is white, blindingly so. You're glad to never be without your subtly-ironic-but-mostly-blindess-preventing prescription shades. Nonetheless, the light is nearly excruciating. You blink again, this time making out a shape in the light. You think it might be a person, and it's familiar voice assures you of that notion.

???: Hey, what's up, man?

You force yourself to look. It's...

What?

It's you. You, or at least a copy of you, is standing, right there, in dumb shades, waving at you like an idiot. You look down and see one significant difference. He's wearing that broken record shirt you love so much. And a sword is stuck in his chest. Right in the middle of the record, and out his back. This doesn't seem to be bothering him very much. 

YOU: You're... Me?

Sam(?): ... Yep. 

YOU: But... I'm me.

Sam(?): Huh. I didn't know we were stupid. Okay, look, if it helps, you don't have to, like, literally think of me as being you, because I'm not. I'm barely even, I dunno, like, a duplicate or anything. Probably not sapient. Think of me as...

He sighs, tapping his foot on whatever surface you're standing on.

Sam(?): I'm, like, a really good metaphor, I think. But, I'm able to appear to you physically, because you drank a potion and conked out. And now we have to have a chat. 

YOU: And then I'll Awaken.

Sam(?): Yeah. Or die, maybe. Okay.

He claps his hands together.

Sam(?): Why do you think you deserve to Awaken?

He pauses long enough that you can think. You settle on a decent answer.

YOU: I guess I've been through a lot. I... Want to be able to help my friends, and not be a burden.

Sam(?): Okay. That second bit is admirable, I guess. But the first bit... Think about Wren's mom. And Alex's, and Diana's parents. They went through way worse, yeah? They didn't get to Awaken, beyond sword chick. Three of them died, and it sucked, and then the rest of them got to live knowing they failed. So, clearly, suffering doesn't necessarily mean you deserve success. So, uh, returning to the question at hand. 

YOU: I... I'm prophesied to-

Sam(?): Look, okay, gonna butt in and be a jerk again, sorry on advance. But, yeah, the prior visions you had weren't, like, random. They were, um, meant to... To make you think, and maybe realize some things you just wouldn't have been realizing in different circumstances. So, you know, back to the first vision, those guys were every bit as prophesied to succeed as you. Only half of them Awakened, they all died. So, yeah, going back to the question, we're almost there, dude, we are making this happen. 

You think. For a while, honestly. And you can't think of anything. At all. 

YOU: I don't deserve it, I guess. I can't really make my own case. I just... I just want to help my friends, you know? They're my favorite people. They deserve my help. They need me to be better than I am. I love them. 

He smiles at you. He puts a hand on your shoulder. 

Sam(?): Look dude, to the capacity that I can feel anything, I am feeling mad familial. You're like a brother to me, for this period of time in which I exist. I'm so proud or something. You get it. 

YOU: Sorry? 

Sam(?): We can't earn this, man. We don't deserve it. We're the Knight. That's a nice word for a servant that sometimes gets a sword, you know? We help others, at our own expense. And so, in a paradoxical sense, you've earned this, by not earning it. Also, sorry about this, but there has to be a price paid. 

YOU: ... What? 

Sam(?): You kinda cheated, using the whole Oracle shortcut. So, you know, gotta pay your pound of flesh. 

YOU: You really ruined the moment, dude. 

Sam(?): I know. Hold on.

He yanks your shades off your face. You feel his fingers close around your right eye. You are intently aware that it is your own hands holding your eye and shades. 

An intense pain flares in your right eye, like a neutron star filling your socket and overflowing into your skull.

You open your eye.

~~

Once again, we briefly acknowledge the series nature as an RPG parody!

SAM'S level increased from level 6 to level 20 in one fell swoop! He attained a new rank: KNIGHT ASCENDANT.

The next part will end chapter two of act two. Expect that tomorrow, probably!