Quoted By:
>Ascension
"I mean, I need to stick the Crown inside his..." You take a deep breath. "Um, to be super duper clear, I didn't— even if I did say that I loved him— I <span class="mu-i">wouldn't</span> kiss him, and I don't feel any different about you. You're not the same thing at all. He was a... a... he helped me with things, and taught me about things, even if I didn't always want to learn them, while you— I mean— you did that too, sometimes, but—"
"I-I-I get it, Lottie. You explained."
"I just don't want you to get the wrong idea! I'd kiss you again, if I— if I had more time. But I don't have any."
"I-I-It's okay."
"I liked it." You wipe your lips roughly. "I really hope the Recharlottizer works. I hope Ellery didn't screw it up. He screws everything else up. I— I don't know why I trusted him with this. I— I really need— you don't think I can go check on it?"
"Um," the beetles say, "where is it?"
"Headspace. You don't think I can?" You look down at the beetles, then over the beetles at the corpse of the lizard. "I just... I'm really depending on... if it doesn't work, I might die, Gil."
"...And the world will end?"
"No! I mean, yes, but— I might— I might actually die. I don't mean I'll be God and different. I mean, I— I might be God and then dead forever. I didn't want to tell you because I knew you'd worry."
Gil's beetles fall still. "I-I-I probably would."
"Yeah. But now you're with me, it doesn't matter. I know I didn't want you to come, but I— I— thanks."
"You're welcome." A silence. "You're not procrastinating on doing it, are you?"
"Procrastinating? The great Charlotte Fawkins would never— the noble— I— I can't believe you'd say such a thing! You sound like Richard!"
"Somebody has to be Richard," Gil says quietly.
Somebody does. You look and look at the bloody lizard, then poke it with the tip of The Sword. It doesn't move. <span class="mu-i">Richard?</span> It doesn't respond. Richard is dead, which is better than being a snake. His chest is caved open. Reluctantly, you lift the Crown and wriggle it inside.
The effect is immediate. The Crown's white light goes red. The Crown's pull increases tenfold. You could ignore it before— most people couldn't, but you could— but now you strain and tremble and breathe shallowly out of your mouth. Your arms jerk themselves upward and your head jerks itself downward and the Crown is placed upon it. It goes through you all the way. Top to bottom. You are rended, exposing something hard inside you to air. Blood drips from your orifices, staining the envelope.
But you remain standing. Indeed, you remain walking, staggering away from the altar and onto solid ground— which coils up around your feet, furrows snaking out in a spiral. The water is hot. You might be blistering. But you have lost sensation.
Most people would be broken already. But you stand upright and pry your mouth open and don't quite use your voice to speak. "<span class="mu-i">Gil.</span>"
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