to the depth..., Chapter Four

It feels as though you have always pitied Eridan Ampora – and now, at last, you have the chance to prove it.

Captor had caught you completely off-guard, knocking you unconscious before you had the chance to get your wits together and even try to resist him – and when you'd woken up, a message from Eridan had been waiting, with a file and a set of instructions. Hours would pass before anyone put the pieces together and realized that all four of you had been played; yourself, Aradia, Vriska – and Eridan. Vriska had been the one who found the ancient frog temple, and took pictures of the runes she discovered inside, but Captor was the one who forced her to pass them on to Eridan, who would go on to use them to write the code for the game you all found yourselves trapped into playing. Meanwhile Sollux had once again stolen Vriska's will, and forced her to plant the seed of an idea in Aradia's mind – an idea which she had then perfected and taken to you, and you of course had played your part perfectly. Captor was free to do as he willed now – and the entire planet was going to pay the price.

While you, browbeaten and defeated, following Eridan's instructions and entered the Medium as Captor's client player, Aradia and Vriska were holding a hurried conference. They decided to take the problem to Kanaya Maryam, a seadweller who had once been Vriska's friend, and she in turn brought the matter to Princess Pyrope's attention. But by then Captor had already escaped Pyrope's grasp, using the power he had over your life to threaten your moirail into cooperating and acting as his server player. Feferi turned to Tavros for help into the Medium, Tavros contacted Makara – and so it continued. Even Pyrope had no choice but to fall in line with Captor's plan, sending first her own morail into the Medium, and then calling on you, as the first player in the chain, to assist her.

But you refused. It wasn't easy – in fact it was the hardest thing you had ever done, to openly defy royalty like that – but you still refused.

All twelve of your friends and closest acquaintances had made it into the Medium – except for Pyrope and one other. Eridan was to be left behind; as far as Pyrope was concerned, he and Captor shared the blame for your race's extinction in equal measure, and it would be only just to leave him to face the destruction he had wrought. Eridan protested, of course; he had not realized what he was doing, he'd thought it was just a game – but in truth, you wouldn't have cared if he had known all along. You could not allow Pyrope to leave him behind, even if it did mean defying the princess and inviting her moirail's wrath. But that could wait for later; you had another crisis to deal with.

You stand now on the roof of Captor's rebuilt hive, the glow of the gates floating directly over your head. Before you lies spread the Land of Brains and Treasure – but your interest lies elsewhere. Feferi's voice lilts into your ear through the portable computer you alchemized, assuring you that Captor broods over his success on one of the floors below your feet. He hasn't even bothered to conceal himself, and why would he? Regardless of this game's true purpose, he has perverted it into the means of taking revenge against the troll who killed him – and as he reaches into Eridan's mind and prevents him from acting as Pyrope's server player, he wants all who remain alive to know that he has won.

Or so he thinks.

You race down the stairs, trusting Feferi to steer you right, and burst into Captor's old computer room, still full of the charred remains of his old hiveframes. He's seated in the middle of the floor, hands pressed to his metal temples; an open husktop lay nearby, displaying the interior of your own hive, but such is his arrogance that he isn't even facing it.

You don't even give him the chance to look up, barreling straight into the center of the room and reaching for his head. One sharp twist, and it will all be over – but he bats one of your hands aside without even looking. The other hand bounces off the side of his head, leaving a deep but harmless dent. And then Captor turns, kicking your legs out from underneath you with a casual sweep of his leg, and you fall, landing on your back with another force to knock the breath out of you. Feferi shrieks in your ear; you wince and cut the sound before scrambling to your feet.

"I saw it coming, but I still don't believe," Captor says, likewise standing. "An arrogant blueblooded prick like you, defending a mutant? What's your deal, Vantas?"

"None of your gosh-darned business," you snap, falling into a loose approximation of a fighting stance and wishing you'd spent more time training. It's too late now; you're just have to hope your strength is enough to finish this. "Maybe I'm just doing what I should have done sweeps ago and putting you out of all our misery," you add, not wanting him to pry any further.

Captor grins. "Yeah, that'd be a pretty nice feather in your cap, wouldn't it? The princess might even forget the way you were mouthing off to her just now." Unbelievably, he spreads his arms, leaving his guard completely open. "So do it then. Come at me, bro."

It has to be a trap, but it's also the best opportunity you're likely to get. You throw yourself at Captor, launching a fist into the center of the chest you built with all your strength – and his lips part on a cry of pain as he rises off the floor and goes flying, hard enough to break through the opposite wall and disappear, his scream trailing behind him...And then drowned out by a sudden concussion that rocks the entire hive.

You rush to the hole in the wall, but can see nothing. Whatever was left of Sollux has fallen down into the abyss surrounding the mountain on which his hive rests, the scattered aerial brains fluttering madly through the disturbed air. You turn your portable computer back on and query Feferi.

-- cavalierGrotesquerie [CG] began trolling cultivationCurator [CC] –

CG: WHAT HAPPENED TO CAPTOR?
CC: ) (e exp(_oded! O:C
CG: ...
CG: I GIVE UP.

-- cavalierGrotesquerie [CG] ceased trolling cultivationCurator [CC] –

CC: Aw, don't fee(_ bad, Karkat!
CC: I'm sure you'(_(_ bui(_d something that doesn't exp(_ode SOMEDAY!
CC: It wasn't even rea(_(_y your fau(_t this time!
CC: We(_(_, I mean, it kind of was, but not in the way it norma(_(_y is.
CC: Wait, that's not what I meant either.
CC: You're not even (_istening to me anymore, are you? ):C

Indeed you aren't. You deploy your own husktop, connecting to Eridan's computer – and are relieved to find him already in the middle of assisting Pyrope, apparently none the worse for wear. You immediately begin to deploy the necessary equipment – and find yourself interrupted by another message, this time from the very person you are trying to help.

-- corruptedAnatomy [CA] began trolling cavalierGrotesquerie [CG] –

CA: fuuckin took you long enouugh
CA: what happened to solluux
CG: I DO NOT WISH TO DISCUSS IT AT THIS TIME.
CG: BUT I SINCERELY DOUBT HE WILL BE TROUBLING US FURTHER.
CG: ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?
CA: yeah im fine
CA: almost got th fuuckin princess taken care of too
CA: whiny little fishbitch
CA: anyway i know were on a fuuckin time limit here buut can youu at least answer one quuestion for me
CG: I SUPPOSE SO.
CG: WHAT DO YOU WANT TO KNOW?
CA: why
CG: BEG PARDON?
CA: why are youu doin all this for me
CA: i mean
CA: standin uup to th princess fightin solluux
CA: makin youurself my fuuckin server player
CA: why

Your palms feel clammy, the back of your neck damp with sweat. You find yourself wishing ruefully that you'd remembered to bring a towel with you.

CG: BECAUSE I PITY YOU.
CG: ...I HAVE FOR SOME TIME NOW.
CA: oh my god
CA: oh my god ow
CA: what the fuuck
CG: ERIDAN?

This isn't the reaction you'd expected – and as you minimize the chat window and take another look at the viewport, your horror grows.

CG: ERIDAN, WHAT'S WRONG?
CG: COME ON, PLEASE TALK TO ME.
CA: i dont fuuckin know
CA: it juust
CA: it fuuckin buurns oh god

He's clutching the side of his head in pain, scarcely able to type. As you watch a convulsion wracks his body, nearly knocking him out of his grubstool. It's only belatedly that you realize what must be happening – and your suspicions are confirmed an instant later.

-- garroteCondemner [GC] began trolling cavalierGrotesquerie [CG] --

GC: --Her –Honorable Condescension surveys the courtroom balefully, shark-like eyes at last fastening on the dastardly blueblood who dared defy –Her.
GC: By what means, s--He wonders, could t--His miscreant possibly justify –His actions, bordering as t--Hey did on outright TREAC--HERY?
GC: Does –He know the standard penalty for treac--Hery, --Her –Honorable Condescension wonders?
CG: I – THAT IS, I MEAN
CG: THE HAPLESS BLUEBLOOD THROWS HIMSELF ON THE MERCY OF THE COURT, AND BEGS HER HONOR'S INDULGENCE TO GRANT HIM A SHORT RECESS
CG: FOR HE IS EXTREMELY BUSY RIGHT NOW.
GC: Busy wit--H t--He ot--Her traitor, no doubt!
GC: - -Her –Honorable Condescension is not amused by all t--His treac--Hery going on in   –Her contacts list!
CG: DOES IT STILL COUNT AS TREACHERY WHEN THE ACCUSED HONESTLY BELIEVED HIMSELF TO BE ACTING IN THE BEST INTERESTS OF THE STATE?
GC: >8O
GC: T--Hat remains to be seen, Mr. Vantas.
GC: In any case, --Her –Honorable Condescension is in a generous mood, and will allow you ten minute's time in w--Hic--H to braid your own noose.  
GC: T--Hat is, she estimates, roug--Hly all t-He time CA –Has left before –He faces –His own execution.
CG: WHAT?
GC: Deat--H by Glub. >8]
GC: Quite a fitting end, don't you t--Hink?

-- garroteCondemner [GC] ceased trolling cavalierGrotesquerie [CG] --

Oh god. Oh no. Oh god.

CG: ERIDAN, YOU HAVE TO LISTEN TO ME.
CG: YOU'RE HEARING THE VAST GLUB RIGHT NOW.
CA: oh fuuck
CG: I KNOW, I'M SCARED TOO.
CG: BUT IT'S NOT TOO LATE. IF YOU CAN JUST GET INTO THE MEDIUM, YOU'LL BE OKAY.
CG: BE STRONG.
CA: what the fuuck are you fuuckin talkin abouut be strong
CA: do youu have any fuuckin cluue how muuch this fuuckin huurts
CG: UH
CG: I CAN TAKE AN EDUCATED GUESS?
CA: fuuck off!

This isn't going at all how you expected. Eridan is still clutching his head in pain – when he tries to stand up, he staggers and has to clutch his desk for balance – and you've already deployed all the equipment he needs to enter the game. There's nothing more you can do except watch as he makes his torturously slow, unsteady way to the alchemeter, the platform already littered with a collection of glowing, bright red objects whose purpose escapes you. But Eridan seems to know what they're for; he drops to his knees in a manner far too sudden to be entirely planned, shoulders tense with pain as he picks up two of the objects and begins to fit them together.

The form of a rifle quickly begins to take shape, but time is running out; despite his obvious experience with the equipment his key is imitating, Eridan's own body is working against him. You can see his hands shaking uncontrollably, making him drop pieces of the key repeatedly – you don't dare look away, not even for an instant, even as your vascular pump leaps into your throat every time he fumbles. Every fiber of your being longs to be there beside him, helping him – but there's nothing you can do.

For a single instant, you dare to feel relief as the last piece of the key locks into place, and the viewport is filled with blinding light. Surely Eridan is safe now. You can stop worrying; while Princess Pyrope is undoubtedly angry, you know enough about this game by now to know that there is nothing she can truly do to either of you, not if she wants to win. You can turn your thoughts to more pleasant matters, such as winning this game – and perhaps even Eridan's heart, in the bargain...

You're a fool. You haven't saved anyone – you were too slow, too late. Eridan is dead, and it's all your fault.