A Moth to a Flame

by MagicMan001, TheAllTimeGreatest

Summary:

Set in an Alternate Universe, inspired by the drabble, 'I Gave You This, I Can Take It Away'. When King Andrias approached Marcy, instead of a proposition, he asked her to follow him. There was something important he had to show her.

What she saw led her down a path that would change her forever.

Marcy gazed into the abyss.

And the abyss gazed back with all thirteen of its eyes.

Now with its own TVTropes page: https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Fanfic/AMothToAFlame

Notes:

This is a story set in an Alternate Universe I crafted on Tumblr which I originally dubbed the 'Quisling Marcy AU’ aka ‘what if Marcy was in cahoots with Andrias?’ I initially expanded upon it by writing a short scene titled ‘I Gave You This, I Can Take It Away’, which I’ve since taken down. The response was so positive and my interest in this AU has grown so much that I decided it was only fitting to try and write the kind of proper story that will do the idea justice.

I hope you enjoy it, but a fair warning: this is gonna hurt.

Ps, a huge thanks to 'Sunnyshine', my proofreader and editor.

Chapter 1

Marcy watched the sun slowly set on Newtopia as she’d done many an evening before. The sharp squawks of the gulls rang through the orange sky. She looked quite the forlorn figure standing by the hotel entrance, the gentle evening breeze that ruffled her cloak underscoring her solitude.

Her eyes remained fixated in the same direction her friend had taken off, maybe in some fleeting fool’s hope she’d change her mind and come sprinting back right into her arms.

Not a chance, Marbles.

Anne was long gone by now. Hopefully, she’d caught up with the Plantars’ fwagon before they reached the city gate. Judging by how quickly she booked it, the odds were in her favor. That girl didn’t make varsity back home for nothing.

Marcy only hoped those sweet, simple frogs knew just how lucky they were to have someone like Anne in their lives.

Sighing, her head lowered, she licked her wounds slowly.

Really? That easy, huh?  

Could Anne have made it any more obvious that she wanted to get out of there faster than she did? After they’d been apart for so long, and for a family of farmer frogs whom she’d known for what? Months?

No, don’t do that, she pulled herself up. It wasn’t right for her to be mad at the Plantars. This wasn’t their fault. Sprig and Polly were a barrel of fun at the slumber party, providing you disregarded their life-threatening encounter with the jelly-fish ghosts. Hop Pop, meanwhile, reminded her so much of her own grandpa it was uncanny. They were sweet, decent folk who’d taken Anne in and kept her safe all this time. It was just...

Her lips twisted into a bitter frown. How else was she supposed to feel but a little rejected? 

However, was she really allowed to complain when holding her tongue was so normalised for her by this point? Marcy was a people pleaser, she understood that much about herself. Anytime Anne and Sasha got into an argument, she was there to keep the peace and everyone happy. So if Anna-Banana wanted to spend more time with her bumpkin frog family than her literal best friend since preschool, who was she to say no? 

The story with her folks wasn’t all that different either. When they pressured her to keep up her studies, up to and including PSAT prep despite it being years away, she did as she was told like a good girl to make them proud, and they were. She hoped they were.

Goodness knows what they must be thinking right now—

Nope nope nope! Don’t go there, don’t go there.

She’d already lost too much sleep at night ruminating over the unspeakable pain she’d most surely put them through, it was the last thing she needed right now. She tried to do the logical thing and focus on the positives instead. That usually worked.

Anne wouldn’t be away for too long. They’d be together again as soon as Hop Pop’s contacts returned the Box to Wartwood and then it was off to the first of the three temples to get those gems recharged. Once that side quest was done and dusted, it was a simple matter of finding Sasha and making their way home.

Looking down, she caught herself wringing her hands.

Home. 

That sure was the plan.

I mean... what else are we supposed to do?

“Always sad to see someone go, isn’t it?”

Marcy quickly wiped her eyes and glanced over her shoulder to greet the towering form of King Andrias. 

Almost instantly, her mood perked up a notch. He was the one person whom she trusted, more than anyone else in all of Amphibia. Ever since she first landed outside the city walls, he took her under his wings and ensured her smooth transition into this brave new world.

Andrias was without doubt one of the kindest and wisest people Marcy could have ever hoped to meet. He was a true listener, and there were very few you could say that about, her parents included. How often had he been there to lend both an understanding ear and sage advice over games of flipwart? 

Games she won more often than not, she wasn’t humble enough not to brag.

It was also he who sent Marcy on the daring missions that would eventually make her the hero of Newtopian society she was today. All because he recognised the value of her talents beyond passing an exam or helping her friends with their homework. No other 13-year-old had their own solid gold statue adorning a city bridge.

She owed this king a debt she couldn’t possibly repay, but one he was far too altruistic in nature to demand.

Then, why did he look so... solemn?

“Come along, Marcy. We need to talk.”

Maybe it was his serious tone of voice or those specific choice of words, but they made the hair on the back of Marcy’s neck stand on end. In an almost pavlovian manner, she corrected her posture and she held her chin erect.

Shoving whatever remaining conflicted thoughts aside, she silently followed Andrias back to the castle like a pilot fish tailing its great white. She was so puny next to this tremendous salamander, he could crush her with a single blow of his fist if he so chose. Not that a gentle, goofy giant like Andrias would even dream of doing such a thing.

So when he was dead serious, Marcy knew better to zip it, listen, and do as instructed. 

Their quiet journey took them all the way back to the castle and into the royal throne room, a place she was all too familiar with by now. To enter this hallowed hall was a privilege bestowed only to a select few. For Marcy, it was where she had her morning debriefs over bugachinos.

Instead of going straight up to the throne for their pow wow as she anticipated, Andrias guided her down a small passageway to their left.

When they made their way up to the statue of what Marcy recognised as one of his ancestors, one of the great rulers of Amphibia, they came to a stop. Andrias then gazed down at her with the most serious look she’d seen him give anyone.

“Marcy, before we go any further,” he spoke sternly, “I need to be absolutely crystal clear about something. Okay?”

“Y-Yes, Andrias?” Marcy asked, shivering a little. She did not like being pulled out of her comfort zone, not like this.

“You’re about to enter the most secret place in all of Newtopia,” he continued, now down on one knee and his hand hovering over her shoulder, as close as they could be to eye level. “What I’m going to show you... I need you to swear you won’t share with another living soul. Not to Anne, not to Lady Olivia, no one. Do you understand? I can’t emphasise this enough, Marcy.”

“Of course,” she answered earnestly, trying to sound more confident. “You know you can always trust me, Andrias.”

A ghost of that warm, fatherly smile returned to his big blue countenance.

“Trust is a hard thing to come by, kid, and you’ve gone above and beyond to earn mine. It’s just that I’m not exaggerating here when I say this is a big one.”

Marcy simply placed one hand over his huge index, the other over her heart.

She smiled back at him sweetly, genuinely, “I promise.”

“Very well.”

Nodding in approval, Adrias rose. He reached out, pushing a luminous coral torch upwards.

It didn’t take an encyclopedic knowledge of ‘Creatures & Caverns’ for Marcy to predict that the statue was going to shift to the left next, revealing the spiralling staircase leading to Frog knows where. She probably should’ve been more surprised, but come on, it wasn’t exactly the first secret passage she’d come across in this castle lately. 

“Follow me,” was all Andrias said, before he pulled off the same coral torch, then proceeded down the stairs without another word. Marcy followed obediently, unable to ignore the unnerving chill that was now travelling up her spine.

Was it... always this cold around here?

Something about all this just felt so unsettling compared to last time. She couldn’t really explain why; she knew she was safe with Andrias and that he wouldn’t do anything to intentionally put her in harm’s way. It was a gut feeling and that sort of thing bugged a rational person like her to no end.

She tried to take her mind off it by hazarding her best guess as to precisely what he was going to show her. Either she did that or started getting all worked up dwelling on Anne again, which she’d rather not at the moment.

Another secret library, perhaps? Probably not, though she wouldn’t be at all disappointed if it was. Maybe there were forbidden texts about the dark arts hidden away down there. Magic users were incredibly rare in Amphibia these days—Marcy had already searched far and wide—so might this be her chance?

Oh, how the very idea of being able to cast actual magic excited her. Being Chief Ranger of the Knight Guard was a great honor and nothing to sneeze at, but to be a powerful sorceress, one who could communicate with the spirits, raise the dead, shuffle the orifices on her enemy’s faces—

Okay, rein those snails in, Mar-Mar.

Her musings were interrupted by a strange noise emanating from below. At first she figured it was just her imagination, but the further they continued their descent, the clearer it became.

It sounded an awful lot like beeping. Yes, that was it. A progressively growing cacophony of bleeps, bloops and chirps, the kind she’d expect to hear from a high-tech supercomputer. Something absolutely alien in a world like Amphibia, she and her friends excluded.

Before Marcy could ask Andrias if he heard it too, she was distracted by the emergence of an orange glow chasing away the darkness below. It was a warm, almost heavenly light that conjured the mental image of a crackling fireplace on Christmas morning, protecting you from the snowstorm outside.

The chill in her spine had by now spread to the crown of her head and the tips of her toes. Her throat tightened up. Beads of cold sweat dripped down her forehead.

What the... Marcy could not say a word, only think.

There was something down there. Something greater than any library, however inconceivable that sounded. Whether it was good or bad was irrelevant to her at that moment.

It called her.

The duo finally reached the foot of the staircase and entered the sacred sanctum.

Marcy’s jaw dropped.

“Woah.”

There were no shelves of books. No ancient Amphibian artifacts. There weren’t even any walls that she could make out from where she stood. Just an apparently endless sea of darkness encompassing a large round platform from which both the enticing glow and the lowkey din of beeps originated.

Marcy resumed taking Andrias’ lead as they stepped out onto the platform, the clink-clank of their boots confirming her assumption it was made of metal. The whole thing appeared more at home on an alien spaceship than in the dungeons of a castle.

Upon arriving at its centre, Andrias knelt down on both knees and, much to Marcy’s curiosity, removed his crown and set it down on the floor. She took the hint by following suit.

Any lingering fears melted away the more she basked herself in the radiance. It was as if the beams were steadily pouring into her body, clearing up her headspace, reducing any tension in her body. She recalled a favored memory from when she was five-years-old, when she and Anne spent a whole summer afternoon by the beach. How the tides would come in and out without fail, washing away the ruins of their sandcastles, the seaweed, one of Anne's sandles and the teeny tiny baby seahorse they rescued. 

Like a nice blank canvas.

Was this a private place of worship? Not according to her expansive studies of Amphibian anthropology. Or maybe it was a place for Andrias to meditate away from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the castle. Seemed a skosh excessive if that was the case.

“Truly captivating, I know.”

Andrais’ baritone brought Marcy back down to earth. She straightened up and tried to refocus herself. They were down here for an important reason, at least she believed they were.

“One can spend hours down here,” Andrias boomed ominously. “Adrift in their own thoughts and... dreams.” The light cast his face in a rather unnerving shadow as he stared ahead into the void. “But I’m sure you know I haven’t brought you here to show off my retreat from the world.” He took a long, deep breath, like he was mentally steeling himself for what he said next, “As much as it pains me to say it, I’m afraid I haven’t been entirely truthful with you, Marcy.”

He produced from his sleeve what appeared at first glance to be two giant pieces of parchment and unfolded them neatly on the metal surface. A closer inspection told Marcy they were in fact pages torn from an exceptionally large book. Judging not only by the size, but the font and format as well, she easily pieced together its origin.

“Are these...?”

“From the book we “found” in the wing?” Andrias chuckled mirthlessly. “Yes. Still kinda surprised you didn’t pick up there were pages missing, but that's not important right now. Please, read.”

The platform provided ideal reading light. Marcy’s ability to read at a 12th Grade level meant she cruised through the text and finished within minutes.

She read it once, then twice. A third and fourth time just to make sure her eyes weren’t deceiving her.

Her bottom began to tremble.

No... Nononono, this... this can’t be right. I-It’s impossible! How in the world can it...?!

No amount of curative rays could unfreeze the blood in her veins. The metaphorical pistons in her brain were firing on full cylinders in a vain attempt to digest this earth-shattering information. For a split second, she thought she was going to pass out.

Desperate, she turned to the stone-faced Andrias to plead for some kind of answer, but she found no words with which to speak. All the personal growth and development that made her Newtopia’s champion had been stripped of her and she was reduced to nothing more than a helpless lost toddler.

A comforting set of giant digits placed themselves under her chin, the same way a father would do for his daughter.

“All this time, I’ve been testing you,” Andrias told her, his voice full of pride. “The games of flipwart, the missions, the “secret library”, even the barbari-ant colony I had lured to the city. I was watching you, studying your every action. With each challenge I issued, you excelled my expectations. You’re an exceptionally talented human being, Marcy, truly worthy of the name ‘Wu’.”

Even if these words were meant to serve as comfort or encouragement, they had only the opposite effect for Marcy. Tears were leaking out the corners of her eyes.

She mustered only a pitiful whimper, “I-I don’t understand.”

“Don’t worry, kiddo,” he promised, “you will soon enough. He’s so excited to meet you.”

“... He?”

Lifting his mighty hand in the air, he thrusted it into the nothingness facing them. Marcy instinctively followed its direction.

“Marcy Wu,” Andrias’ thundering voice resonated throughout the sanctuary, “allow me to introduce you... to my master.”

No sooner had he finished, the whole world started to tremble at Marcy’s knees, throwing her off her balance. A rumbling, mechanical ROAR struck her ears so loud she had to cover them to protect the drums from rupture. Yet despite this sensory assault, she somehow forced her eyes to stay wide open. She needed to face whatever was coming.

Marcy gazed into the abyss.

And the abyss gazed back with all thirteen of its eyes.

Terror. Pure mounting terror overwhelmed every cell of her being. Her pupils shrunk to the size of pinpricks. If her mouth stretched any wider, her jaw risked snapping clean off its hinges.

Everything around her faded into black. Andrias, the platform and its glow, the beeping, all vanished into the ether. All now that existed were herself and those colossal demonic eyes plucked from the deepest recesses of her nightmares, their leer burrowing into her very soul.

Marcy wanted to scream until she coughed up her lungs. Moreso, she just wanted to wake up. This was all a dream, it had to be. A lucid dream that had gone on for far too long. She and her friends weren’t in another dimension inhabited by talking frogs, such a notion was a scientific absurdity. She sure as heck wasn’t a ranger in some anthropomorphic newt army.

Any moment now, her wizard kitty alarm would ring and she’d wake up in her soft, cozy bed. Dad would have left for work by now, planting a goodbye kiss on her sleeping forehead as he did every morning since she was little. Mom would be already making her her favorite congee rice and youtiao for breakfast. Then she would begin the process of packing up her room for the big move to Oregon like a good girl.

Yes, she would even happily do that. Anything to bring an end to this ordeal!

Shhhh

Her train of thought screeched to a sudden halt.

Marcy

It’s gonna be okay

And just like that, as if those were the five magic words required, everything was fine again. No more panic, no more existential terror. Her heart rate lowered to a steady, non-life threatening level. 

The tide had risen up and washed Marcy’s mind clean. 

Like a nice blank canvas. 

What quickly followed was an epiphany of sorts.

There was nothing for her to fear. Once she accepted that fact, the warm sensation from before returned greater than ever, engulfing her in what could only be described as a spiritual hug. She could feel the pair of hands, tender as her own mother’s, caressing her face and flicking away her tears. They even ruffled her raven hair in the same playful manner.

Come to me, daughter of Wu

Let me get a good look at you

Marcy obeyed. Getting down on all fours, she crawled across the nonexistent ground—the laws of physics evidently had no place here—until her face and the eyes’ chief pupil were within inches of each other. 

Fresh tears, now ones of ecstasy, trickled down her cheeks and evaporated in the pulsating heat. 

“You’re beautiful.”

I know

We’ve gotta lot to talk about, Marcy

And I have a feeling...

You and I are gonna become the best of friends

Chapter 2

One month later

Sasha joylessly toyed with the Music Box, opening its lid like a yawning mouth.

Who’d have thunk it? She wondered to herself. This tacky little thing could cause so much calamity?

How ludicrously out of place she looked curled up on King Andrias’ enormous throne, almost like the little girl playing pretend in the driver’s seat of her parents’ car. You’d be forgiven for not knowing she’d just led the swiftest, easiest toppling of a government in this world’s history.

Big blue dummy locked up? Check. The city’s army surrendered? Check. Their toad army less than an hour away? Check. Dimension-skipping Macguffin firmly in their position? Double Check.

Not a bad day’s work for a 13-year-old.

Marcy’s oversized sparrow was tethered to the armrest by his leg. A prize she’d taken for herself so she could cruise around her new kingdom in style. She saw to it he wasn’t under any duress, and the fact he was neck deep in an industrial sized bag of bird feed told her he was plenty comfortable.

Sasha managed a tiny smile as she reached out to run her fingers through the thickness of his coat. She dunked her hand in the bag and offered him an open palm of seeds; he eyed for a moment or two before gingerly pecking at the mound.

Thank Frog no one was around to hear the ‘d’aww’ escape her lips.

Her grandmother was the one she had to thank for her secret admiration of birds. Old lady had been a birdwatcher who ‘treated’ her to regular weekend trips into the forest when she was younger. This was long before her discovery of malls and arcades. Sasha wouldn’t dare admit it to even herself back then, but the ones they spotted together on those dewy spring mornings were beautiful to behold in their natural habitat.

Herons may now be forever ruined for her, but Joe—she thought that was his name—was a mighty impressive specimen. Poor guy somehow found the strength to carry all seven of them to Newtopia, only to nosedive into the moat at the end of the flight.

Definitely had nothing to do with her asking Marcy if she could take the reins in the last stretch. She and Anne were kind enough not to draw attention to it, same as they did the day at summer camp when they discovered her crying into her pillow. They were awesome enough to go along with her story that it was only allergies. She knew she had a true pair of girlfriends that morning.

Thinking about them only soured her mood afresh. She sprinkled the rest of the feed back into the bag and slumped against the backrest, arms petulantly crossed.

Here she was in the crowning moment of her young life and she couldn’t have been more miserable.

Maybe because her friends should have been here to share in this, but no, they had to go and act all noble. What else should she have expected? She always was the only one in the group with the guts. Anne had to be dragged kicking and screaming to ditch school and join her and Marcy in celebrating her birthday. Was it any wonder she had to keep taking control of the situation?

More likely... it was because deep down she knew she didn’t really want this. She certainly believed she did after they dropped that gloryhound newt general down a waterfall and when they successfully rallied the Toad Lords after retrieving Barrel’s Warhammer. Things only started getting complicated when they needed free tickets into Newtopia in the form of her friends.

She hadn’t counted on realising just how much she missed her clumsy, klutzy Marcy. Neither how effectively she and Anne were still able to work together as a team in spite of all the unpleasantness that had transpired between them during their time here, of which there was plenty. The fact that Anne actively encouraged her in taking down that molten toad monster was the rancid cherry atop the sludge sundae. For a while back there, it looked like they might really turn a corner and start afresh. All three of them could have gone home like none of this ever happened. Except by then it was already too late.

What recourse did she have when the Plantars invited them for the world’s most awkward dinner party or when they brought the house down at the Battle of the Bands? Tell Grime and all the toads who’d invested their manpower and futures in her that sorry, she was getting cold feet? There was only one grizzly way that would end both for her and Grime and the best scenario she could imagine involved heads on pikes.

... It didn’t matter anymore. Her friends had picked their path, she’d picked hers. As her mom always said, ‘You make your bed, you lie in it’. Funny how in her short life, she’d heard that line far too many times already.

Once she figured out how the Box worked, she’d send both Anne and Marcy on their merry way and they’d never have to see each other ever again.

Everyone would get what they want.

Good thing then she’d sent her soldiers to ransack Marcy’s room for all her research about Anne’s fateful birthday gift. Girl was a pack rat. She kept notes for every exam and project they were assigned back home. The less said about her laptop jammed with files of anime fanfiction and theories the better.

Plus, it was a good way to try and distract herself.

They came back into the throne room hauling burlap sacks full of parchments and emptied their contents at Sasha’s feet.

Daaang, girl, you've been in the zone.

She scattered them over her lap and the ample free space on the seat. They actually weren’t that hard to follow; colour coordinated with plenty of cutesy kawaii diagrams. Trademark Marbles.

Apparently, it worked a lot like those puzzle boxes Marcy got as gifts from relatives in Hong Kong. All it took was knowing the right sequence of buttons and zip! You can go wherever you want in the cosmos. Just a matter of finding the code for Earth.

‘I’m done listening to you!

I’m done trusting you!’

Sasha scowled, trying to push the thoughts to the back of her mind where they belonged. She shuffled through a couple more pages until she found the one titled in glittery green and blue lettering, ‘HOME’.

Bingo.

‘You’re a horrible person!’

Ignore. Ignore.

Now all she had to do was jot it down on her palm and—

‘AND I AM DONE. BEING. FRIENDS WITH YOU!!’

She stopped. Her shoulders drooped. Then she just threw the page down on the floor and sunk into her seat further than she thought physically possible.

She normally didn’t consider herself that thin skinned a person, but man, that one hurt.

Traces of bitter tears creeped into her eyes.

What am I even doing anymore?

The sound of footsteps on crumpling paper and someone clearing their throat snapped her out of her self-pitying torpor. She fluttered her eyes dry to see Grime standing there awkwardly among the discarded parchments.

The diminutive, one-eyed former Toad Lord was hiding something behind his back. He actually looked pretty embarrassed about it too, which for a battle hardened war vet like Grime was actually kinda adorable in Sasha’s eyes.

“I, uhh, got you something,” he said, whipping out a long rectangular present wrapped in green paper and topped with a luscious red bow. “Had it made especially for this day.”

Now if there was one thing Sasha Waybright couldn’t say no to, it was a gift, especially from a trusted friend. They were the ultimate distraction from the blues and she couldn’t have been sitting upright and tearing into this one any quicker.

“Whaaat? Grimesy, you didn’t!” What she had pulled from the ravaged packaging wielded aloft her head made her gasp. “How’d you know I wanted to duel wield?!”

It was a brand new heron sword. An exquisite green second shortsword that would compliment Ol’ Pink perfectly.

She stared proudly into the smooth steel surface, admiring the craftsmanship. When she noticed the girl staring right back at her, however, her smirk vanished in an instant. The captain of the cheerleaders, the scarred swordswoman, the conqueror of Newtopia, whatever angle she looked at it, she didn’t like what she saw. Unbelievable as it may sound, even the joy of an awesome gift like this was not enough to make everything better.

“What’s the matter? You don’t like it? Oh dang it!” Grime slammed his forehead. “I didn’t get a gift receipt!”

“No no, it’s just...” Sasha weighed the blade against her ungloved palm. Talking about these kinds of things was never easy for her. “What if Anne’s right? What if I am a horrible person?”

Grime popped up like a whack-a-mole behind the armrest. “Who cares what she thinks?” he scoffed. “You and I are in charge now, and we get to do whatever we want!”

“That’s the thing... I’m not sure what I want anymore,” she admitted wearily.

For all his years of training at the finest academies, his brutal combat in the colosseum and tactical expertise earned through a lifetime of military service as his forebears before him, this one had Grime stumped. Needless to say, talking about one’s emotions wasn't exactly encouraged during their upbringing in toad culture, so naturally it wasn’t one of his strong suits. Just one of the many things he and Sasha had in common.

“Huh.”

Still, he was a pretty fast thinker and came up with a fairly good idea on the spot.

“Why don’t you help me redecorate this place?” he suggested, resting his hand on her shoulder. “Take your mind off it. Cuz this right here...” He gestured to the cluttered mess in which she’d surrounded herself. “This is definitely not—I’m sorry, can I help you?!”

Both of them turned their heads when it became impossible to ignore Joe’s cone-shaped beak lightly nipping at Grime’s cheek.

“He probably thinks your warts are seeds.”

“For the love of—I knew he was eyeing me up on the ride here! There! Get lost!” Grime scooped up a fistful of feed and flung it over the marble floor, but the winged beast persisted with pecking his face. “Stop it! MY HEAD IS NOT A FEEDER!!”

It took an exceptional effort of willpower for Sasha not to laugh at the sight of her old man being preyed upon by the family pet.

Wow, she thought. Her old man? Was that how she saw Grimesy now? Seriously?

Perhaps up to a point. Okay, considering the options she had for parental figures back home, it wasn’t exactly the highest bar to pass, but it still meant something. Anything.

Who would have guessed this would be how they’d end up, especially given how they started off with her as his prisoner? Sure, it may have taken her helping him and the whole tower not getting turned into heron feed for her to be upgraded to his lieutenant, but they really had come a long way since then. There was a lot more honor and heart to the cranky old toad than she first thought, back when she wrote him off just as another blowhard with power. Now he genuinely considered her his equal both as a friend and comrade in arms. For Sasha, the feeling was mutual. A first for her.

When all was said and done, who else did she have left besides him and vice versa?

What the heck? Let’s tear this place up.

Untethering Joe, she whistled a tweet-tweet and gave the rope a gentle tug to encourage him to follow on their ‘indoor walkies’.

A cursory surveillance of the throne room told her there was a lot of work to be done. If this toad regime was to last a thousand years, the correct decor was an important first step. Thankfully for them, she knew a thing or two about fashion. For starters, there were way too many soft blues and purples. Rust red from top to bottom! She preferred keeping the stained glass windows, but they’d need entirely new designs. Hers truly would naturally feature in most of them, one showcasing her and Grime caving that narwhal worm’s head in with the Warhammer being an absolute must. The snakes coiling the stone pillars weren’t a bad touch, if just a bit too elegant for the whole ‘proud warrior race’ vibe they were going for, but she could still work with them. Now as for the throne, they were gonna have to replace it with something much more imposing. There was that super violent dragon show she and her parents used to watch that had the huge throne made out of swords. She was sure she had a picture somewhere on her phone to use as a reference.

“I’m sorry, what the heck is this?!”

Sasha could only denounce what they were gawking at as the single biggest affrontement to tasteful decorating known to man or amphibian. Yes, worse than inflatable furniture, carpeted bathrooms, beaded curtains, glass block bathroom windows, ‘live, laugh, love’ quotes on walls, rustic hearts, mason jars and nautical accessories all combined under the same inland roof.

Tapestries had their rightful place in a palace’s interior design, but the one sweeping across a section of wall depicting a gentle hearted Andrias sitting down by a lake, surrounded by flowers and lilypads was nothing short of vomit-inducing. Gathered at his feet and scooped up in his protective arms were his wide-eyed, childlike subjects. Even the fish and a lobster were surfacing to bask in their king’s magnanimity. Here the oversized salamander was truly the loving patriarch of everything the light touched. The mawkish display could only be topped off with a rainbow streaking across the sky.

Grime felt his stomach roile. If he ever needed an example to demonstrate the difference between kitschy and downright tacky, this was it.

“Y-y-y-yikes!” he gagged. “This thing’s gotta go!”

Sasha didn’t need a second invite. Besides, what else was Joe going to use to line his nest?

A joint effort tore the offensive piece from its place and it tumbled to the floor in a heap.

Dead silence fell over the room.

Hidden beneath the tapestry was... a mural. Including such a decoration in a throne room was hardly surprising, yet it was what it contained that shocked both the human and toad, so much so that they had to take a moment to recover.

“Woah,” they gasped at once, before starting to analyse what they saw.

The mural was a chaotic collection of nightmarish images painted on a night blue wall. Wild red flames spewing out hordes of beasts and the wreckage of buildings. Mountains of skulls and bones belonging to frogs, toads and newts alike. A flying... spaceship? A castle? Whatever it was meant to be, it firied a white beam up at what was unmistakably the Music Box. Pink, green and blue lightning bolts crackled out of the Box. Mesmerising orange gemstones or, more terrifyingly, eyes leaped off the wall and burned themselves into their minds. The frightening focal point of this one-way ticket to the school therapist’s office? Rising out of the middle of the inferno was the silhouette of a red-eyed, goliath-sized beast, its claws reaching up covetously towards the Box that hung right above its crowned head.

It may as well have been lifted straight from the tattered dream journal of a madfrog.

Any ideas of redecorating the throne room were long gone. Even the revolution they were spearheading suddenly seemed millions of miles away in the face of what they’d just stumbled upon.

Peering her eyes slightly, Sasha was the first to put a face to the shadowy leviathan, and when she did, she had to swallow her heart back down into her chest.

“Is that the king?” she asked, mystified. “With the music box?”

Sweat ran down the side of Grime’s nonplussed face. “If it is… it’s a really good thing we stopped him.”

Neither of them said it aloud, but both understood the situation at once. All this time they thought they’d been playing flipwart while the king played bog jump. Oh, how wrong they’d been. It was beyond anything that even the Toad Lords discussed. They knew that they had to reconvene with them as soon as the armies had reached the gate.

She took a couple steps closer to reexamine the mural more thoroughly, missed details emerging now that the initial shock began to wear off. Circuit board markings—the same inside her dad’s outdated computer when she foolishly dared Marcy if she could take it apart—worked their way around the images, serving as some type of frame. Odd choice for a world that didn’t even have steam engines yet. She also picked up the three small geometric figures standing atop the Box’s lid. An artist she was not, but they looked pretty human-like in design.

But humans did not exist in Amphibia. The three of them were the first of their kind to ever set foot in this dimension.

Weren’t they?

Alarm bells were ringing louder than ever before. This Andrias guy had been playing Anne and Marcy for his own ends this whole time, all to get his mitts on the Music Box! What did he plan to do with it? Right now, she still couldn’t say, but it was all bad. Outside of a kickin’ rock band, fire and skulls together were never a good thing!

Even Joe’s feathers were puffing up anxiously against her back. Not turning away from the mural, she raised her hand and patted his risen crest.

“I know, big guy. I don’t like it either.”

Grime’s voice rang urgently in her ears, “Lieutenant! Get over here, quick!!”

Sasha had spun on her heels and sprinted down the room to find Grime standing the wreckage of what used to be a display of armour. He’d evidently acted on a hunch while she’d been preoccupied. Judging by his thunderstruck expression, he’d just discovered something far worse.

“What is iooooh boy!”

This new second mural reminded Sasha a lot of Egyptian hieroglyphs. If there was any room for doubt about the technicolor stick guys, there was none here. Standing tall against an indigo backdrop in a neat row were the outlines of human beings; long gangly appendages, stumpy noses and everything. Some were wearing hooded capes, others were decked out in suits of armour. The couple in the middle looked particularly regal. No prizes for guessing the little wooden box they were holding in their hands, cementing their authority as if it were the globus cruciger.

Faded inscriptions were engraved along the bottom. They were written in a more archaic amphibian dialect, but being a toad of higher education, Grime was able to give translating them a decent shot.

These great beings of magic and might

Travelled from beyond to serve the night

Bow before these children of man

Or know the wrath of the—

“... Wu Clan?” He cocked his one good eye up at her. “Iiiii’m not getting it.”

There it was. Floodlights flashed in Sasha’s head. All colour drained from her face. A million and one thoughts were now firing across her brain at once, threatening to send her into cerebral shutdown.

It was at that moment she knew she’d been played. They all had. She didn’t know whether to be absolutely furious, betrayed or impressed.

Why that conniving, devious little—

That's when they heard the BOOM outside the window.

Chapter 3

Notes:

Hi there, everyone. Apologies this chapter took considerably longer to write and publish than the two previous. There's been a lot going on in my life in the past month, from going away on vacation with my partner and my return to work from furlough. Both of which are definitely good things, though they did disrupt the writing flow. Hopefully, things will now return to smooth sailings. Enjoy.

Plumes of thick smoke billowed above the guard tower, blotting out the dusk sky with an ugly, brown smog. Burning red embers danced and flickered in the air, a single stray spark singeing Sasha’s right cheek.

Two girls stood, a dirt clod’s throw apart from each other. They stared each other down. The squeaky toy and Grime were already engaging in a battle of their own, leaving the two former friends alone on that tower. It did little to make the tension any less palpable.

Anne held her sword firmly in both hands, and the rage-filled scowl etched on her face made it clear she was itching for an excuse to ream the blade through her ex bestie’s chest cavity. The sheer hatred boiling inside her veins could not be overstated. Sasha, however, was a different story. She remained cool and kept both open palms raised, a sign of her peaceful intentions. Already a hard sell considering less than an hour ago, she’d ordered her flunkies to lock her and her family up in the dungeon after using and backstabbing her for the fifteen thousandth time.

She knew perfectly well what was at stake here. She knew the consequences not for them, but for this entire world if she failed. Convincing Anne to believe her now was going to be an uphill battle and the rematch she’d spent months prior fantasising about now seemed inevitable.

The irony surrounding both those things was not lost on her.

“Anne, I need you to listen to me!” she shouted over the hot gusts of wind whipping her face. “There’s something wrong with this Andrias guy! We should—”

Anne was having absolutely none of it. “You expect me to believe you?!” she asked her incredulously. “After all the lying and manipulating you’ve done?!” Sliding the sword back into its sheath, she turned her back on her in disgust. “Sorry, Sasha, but you’re out of chances.”

Why didn’t she take a photo? This would’ve been so much easier if she’d just thought to take a stupid photo! Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Or maybe if she’d given Anne any reason to trust her.

The gates were now drawing close to slamming completely shut as Anne resumed pushing the lever. If Sasha squandered any more precious time, their fast-approaching army would be locked outside the city. She felt her twin swords weigh heavily on her hips; the tips of fingers twitched.

Whelp, in for a penny, in for a pound. She took a deep breath.

“I think Marcy’s in on it.”

“Yeah yeah!” scoffed Anne. “Blah blah bla—what?”

It was a hail mary that paid off. Anne froze in place and glared back at Sasha as if she’d caught her in the act of stomping on Domino’s tail.

“What... what did you say?” she asked, her voice fittingly ice-cold.

“Anne, look... I get it, okay?” Sasha gutsily stepped forward, closing the gap between them. They still had a glimmer of hope in ending this without a fight, so she knew she had to cobble her thoughts together and choose her next words carefully. “You don’t trust me a-and I don’t blame you, but I swear I’m telling you the truth. Grime and I found these—these weird pictures hidden in the throne room. They... one of them was showing the king with the music box. Th-then there was also something about Marcy’s family, I... I don’t know exactly what it all means...”

Amazing how they’d spent the past months going on wild adventures, escaping dozens of near-death experiences with the many monsters infesting the place, yet this was the one thing she struggled to make sound plausible. Of all the times for that natural charisma and confidence to falter. The way Anne was looking at her like she’d sprouted a third arm out her forehead told her it was going about as well as expected.

“All I know is we shouldn’t be giving either of them the Box. Not right now.” She finally lowered her hands back to her sides, adding, “Just come back to the throne room with me and I promise I’ll show you everything.”

A silence fell over the guard tower, punctuated only by the th-thunk of hundreds of armoured boots rising in the distance.

Now the ball was back in Anne’s court. She’d been rendered speechless by everything she’d been told. All she could do was stare the other girl square in the eyes. Dumbstruck.

Relief washed over Sasha as the tension appeared to simmer down, to the point she felt confident enough to move in closer, stopping when they were only feet apart. Tentatively, she reached out and brushed her fingers against her friend’s knuckles.

“Anne. Please.”

This snapped Anne out of her stupor. Reacting as if she’d been touched by something filthy, she broke her hand away from hers. Her expression turned on a dime from bewilderment to one of unadulterated hatred.

“... how dare you.”

Instead of withdrawing herself, Anne shoved Sasha away so violently it nearly sent her off her feet.

“I cannot believe I almost fell for that again! I mean, wow! Seriously, Sasha?! You’re gonna try and save your skin by throwing Marcy under the bus?! HOW DARE YOU!!”

Another jab to the breastplate silenced Sasha before she could respond. Anne was advancing on her dangerously, every step she took forcing her to back up. The only other instance she’d legit felt intimidated by her was back when she’d stood up to her at Toad Tower and even then, a secret part of Sasha was also impressed.

Now she’d touched upon what was already a frayed, raw nerve and it was scary.

“Let me tell ya something, Sash!” yelled Anne. A third strike nearly caught Sasha in the throat. “Marcy’s been more of a friend to me than you ever have! Marcy hasn’t lied to me! She hasn’t pushed me around! And she definitely hasn’t tried to kill my family! Unlike YOU!” She gripped the hilt of her sword, the menace in her eyes daring her to give her a reason. “She’s not only a real friend, she’s my best friend! And so help me, if you ever talk about her like that again, I will personally stick this thing right in your—”

The sounds of stomping boots and clattering armour had grown so loud they became impossible to ignore. Anne looked to her left to witness the sea of helmeted toads congregating outside the city walls.

How could she have let herself get distracted? They were coming. They were practically here.

“You were right; I am better off without you.” She hissed at her with so much venom it practically poured over her lips. “We both are.”

With that parting diss, Anne sprinted back to the lever. She had a job to do and she’d wasted way too much time and oxygen on this cretin already.

Sasha was left standing there stricken, feet glued to the floor. Anne might as well have slapped her across the face to achieve the same effect.

A determined scowl of her own soon spread across her features. You can’t say she hadn’t tried.

She drew the twin swords from her belt and assumed her dueling position.

“Anne, I can’t let you close that gate!”

“Oh yeah...?”

Anne roared, leaping through the air, sword unsheathed and aimed at Sasha’s head.

“JUST TRY TO STOP ME!”

Any swordsman worth their salt should know better than to leave themselves exposed like Anne just did. Sasha had a clear open to cut her in two instead of blocking her strike with both swords if she had so chosen.

To Anne’s credit, she wasn’t nearly as foolhardy as she had been when she first arrived in Amphibia. Right now, however, as they flew around the tower and did battle with the ferocity of dueling birds of prey, Sasha could plainly see it was Anne’s anger guiding her sword.

Anne was hostile, her moves unpredictable. Toad Tower didn’t have nothin’ on this. She wasn’t an exceptionally skilled fighter, neither of them realistically could be when you consider they’d both only first taken up the sword months ago. Still, there was underlying talent between them, and in Anne’s case, hers was currently being amplified by a seemingly bottomless well of passionate fury, which encouraged every last nerve to screw her courage to the sticking place.

She was actively going for the kill.

Narrowly dodging a plunge from her sword and, holding both her own in one hand, Sasha reached the other between Anne’s arms to grip her by the shoulder.

“Anne, stop this!” she begged through gritted teeth. “Marcy—”

“SHUT YOUR LYING MOUTH!!”

Anne freed herself by kicking Sasha in the chest with her socked foot. The collision of her unprotected sole against the metal breastplate hurt like all get out, but she wasn’t going to allow a trivial thing like pain stop her from taking a fatal swing at her opponent’s golden head.

Cat-like reflexes were what saved Sasha from getting scalped. If there was any hope in her mind that Anne couldn still be reasoned with, it was surely dashed now.

None of the paths leading out of this graceful dance of death were great. Simply keeping up her defenses and waging a war of attrition until Anne’s wild attacks inevitably tired her out wasn’t going to work. Whatever it was fueling Anne’s rampage, she didn’t look to be running out of it any time soon. Every parry, thrust and dodge drained a little bit more of Sasha’s stamina. She couldn’t keep this up for much longer.

Frog knows she couldn’t rely on those toads to drag their warty butts through the stinking gate already!

Unless she was able to disarm Anne and fast, the only other option was to meet her viciousness in kind with expectedly grime results. Her training with Grime had taught her that every sword fight was already a potential life or death situation, regardless if you lacked the intent to harm, but however much they’d literally been at each other’s throats, Sasha was not prepared to have Anne’s blood on her hands.

An idea hit just as she arched her back away from a swing that easily could’ve taken her head off. Muscle tissue developed over years of cheerleader practice kicked into gear and in those vital seconds, Sasha flawlessly pulled off a handstand and kicked the sword out of Anne’s hand. The blade plummeted to the city streets below.

That should have been the end of it. With her opponent disarmed, Sasha felt the adrenaline rush sustaining her crash. Her lungs were on fire. Pink and Green suddenly felt ten times heavier in her damp palms. She truly couldn’t have gone on a moment longer.

Unfortunately, Anne was nowhere near spent. In an act of near superman-levels of varsity athleticism, slid behind Sasha, grabbed the hem of her cape and jumped over her head.

Before Sasha was able to register what in the ever-lovin’ Frog just happened, Anne had already tied the cape over her eyes. She barely even had a chance to flail like a dizzy ballerina when Anne’s fist smashed her in the face!

It was a blow powerful enough to send her spinning across the tower. She landed flat on her face, not an ounce of strength left in her muscles to pick herself back up. It was miraculous she didn’t black out then and there.

All that happened around her next was a mad din of noise. She made out the slam of what must have been Anne finally closing the gate. Then someone somewhere sounded a horn, followed by a voice she dreaded to hear more than anything else.

“Royal Newt Guard! Assemble!”

Oh Frog! They’d already freed the king! Anne must’ve sent the rest of her frog family or worse, Marcy to free him from his cell. She’d been so focused on stopping Anne, she didn’t even factor in what the others were doing.

Anne’s smug tone reached her ears, “End of the line, Sash.”

Sasha crawled up to the ledge on her belly. She tore the cape off her head, scattering it to the wind.

What she saw only confirmed her worst fears. Sprig standing atop a knocked out Grime on the roof below. Newt guards were rounding up her soldiers left and right; the tadpole’s giant robot was holding a bunch of them in its mechanical arms.

Then she saw her, a perky smile plastered on her face, shooting a ‘mission accomplished’ thumbs up at Anne.

“Oh no.”

Chapter 4: Story Update

Chapter by TheAllTimeGreatest

Summary:

The dawn is upon us.

Hello everyone!

As you all might know, MagicMan has decided to put this story up for adoption, and I have the honor and privilege of being the one to take it on. So, as the great Jay-Z once said, allow me to (re)introduce myself!

My name is TheAllTimeGreatest, and I will be your guide on this journey of frogs and music boxes!

But in all seriousness, folks, it is great to officially be on board for this story. I fell in love with this concept after reading the prompt scenelet MagicMan posted back in May, and I only enjoyed it more once it became a full story. So naturally, when the opportunity to become the new author presented itself, I was more than willing to answer the call!

I have also reached an agreement that will keep MagicMan on as a consultant/advisor for the story. It is only fair considering that the entire story was their idea to begin with. Plus, they will assist me with the notes that they had regarding the rest of the story.

In terms of the time between updates, I can’t make any promises, mostly because I have seen many authors do the same thing and fail to live up to their own expectations. However, that being said, I will do everything in my power to see this story through to the end.

And on that note, that will do it for this update! Be on the lookout for the next chapter of “A Moth to a Flame,” and I will see you all soon!

This is TheAllTimeGreatest signing off.

Notes:

So there you have it, everyone! A new era for the Quisling Marcy universe is here, and I could not be more excited to be a part of it. See you guys on the flip side!

Chapter 5

Summary:

The group has prevailed against their enemies, and are prepared to send the girls home! However, a hidden enemy has other plans.

Notes:

So, as you can see, this chapter was completed waaaaaay quicker than I initially thought. I was struck with a lightning bolt of inspiration on a really slow Sunday afternoon and cranked out a rough draft in about six hours. Then, MagicMan and I (who I can't thank enough for all his help on editing this bad boy) worked hard for the next three days to rework and format it. Needless to say, I think you guys are going to like what you see!

Anne stood resolutely apart from her friends and the captured Sasha and Grime. The frown on her face and the tightness of her clenched fists offered only a glimpse of the torrent of emotions brewing within her core.

For the first time in forever, she was utterly relieved. It was as if a great weight had been lifted off her chest, allowing her to breath the freshest of air. Standing proudly in the throne room, her and her allies were all waiting patiently to reconvene with King Andrias and their missing comrades to pick up where they left off. In the aftermath of their victory, the ragtag group of heroes could not be more elated. Each of them stood upright and proud, obviously wanting to make a good impression for the mighty albeit laidback monarch of Amphibia.

The longer the silence drew out, the gravity of all that had transpired from that fateful evening in the park up to this very moment only now settled in Anne’s brain.

She and her friends hadn’t just reached the end of their quest to find her a way back home, they’d somehow ended up saving all of Amphibia in the process. In hindsight, if they were going by the catalogue of anime and video games cramming Marcy’s bedroom, they probably should’ve anticipated a ‘final challenge’ like this.

While Anne tried everything she could to keep her feelings about it from seeping to the surface, she still couldn’t get over how in the living Frog did she not see Sasha’s betrayal coming? No, really, what excuse did she have? With a lifetime’s worth of reasons not to trust her, had Anne really been that desperate, that stupid to hold onto her childhood fantasy of all three of them staying friends that she’d been willing to choose not to see what was painfully obvious? That she’d risk everything?! No wonder she couldn’t rejoice in their victory. All of Amphibia had nearly been lost because of her. Because she couldn’t just act like a grown up and end a toxic relationship.

No, she thought, Never again.

Anne kept her back to her. She didn’t know what would become of Sasha when they got back to Earth and she didn’t care. They were done. 

All that mattered was getting back home to her parents and resuming her normal, boring life of schoolwork, video games, pizza and all those other little things a Los Angelean teenager did she took for granted. Well, as best she could given the circumstances. It was a daunting new chapter ahead of her, but her best friend would be by her side every step of the way.

She’d never underestimate Marcy’s value again. It’d be just like when they were kindergartners. Before she came along. 

That shared silence was broken as Polly had her stubby little hand digging into her backside, trying to alleviate the persistent and aggravating itch that had beset her since this morning. Sprig was quick to take notice of his sister, and looked at her quizzically. 

“Polly, stop scratching your butt,” he chided, “The king is almost here!”

As if on cue, the giant doors to the throne room swung upon, courtesy of a well placed kick from the newt king himself. Andrias’ loud whoop reverberated throughout the room as Marcy, Hop Pop, and Lady Olivia entered alongside him, the latter pressing her thumb and forefinger to the bridge of her nose, wondering silently why Andrias has to make such a big deal with his entrances.

Sprig and Polly raced over to their grandfather, who did the same as he took them into his arms. Anne found herself in her own embrace with Marcy, taking in the warmth that she brought.

“OK. Let’s do this thing!” Andrias said, clapping his hands ever so slightly. Sasha bit her lip in fright, wrestling her wrists slightly in the old, worn ropes that entrapped her. The manilla hemp fibers irritated her skin and blistered the scars that littered the top of her hands. She knew she had to say something, anything, to get Anne to listen.

“Anne, please!” Sasha pleaded, a look of desperation written over the entirety of her being as she ran up to her, “Don’t give it to them!” Before she could say anything else, she felt the slap of a slimy skinned tail over her mouth. It held her mouth in place, freezing her plea behind her lips. General Yunaan glowered at the turncoat teenager, obviously as fed up with her as the rest of the group. 

“Silence!” she barked. 

Anne, for a brief, fleeting moment, looked back at Sasha, but only narrowed her eyes at her former friend. After everything that she had done, Anne was in disbelief that she would actually try and convince her to believe anything that she had said. She tightened her grip on the Box reflexively, and turned her back on Sasha. Marcy stood in front of her; she put her hand on Anne’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Anne,” Marcy shone a smile filled with warmth and reassurance, “Everything is going to be fine."

Anne felt her frown melt away . She gave a warm smile right back. Her best friend always knew just what to say. Sasha’s eyes widened in fear as Anne placed the Box in Andrias’ giant palm. The Box was dwarfed by the sheer size of Andrias’ extremity. 

“Alright, big guy!” Anne smiled with finality, “Send us home!” Her hands on her hips, the Thai girl could not believe this day had finally come!

“In time, my dear,” Andrias stood back up to gaze longingly at his reflection in the Calamity Box. The jewels shimmered in the natural light, “but first, I will let you all know a little secret.”

With this, Anne, Marcy, the Plantars, and even Yunaan and Olivia perked up. Their faces bore expressions of confusion. In contrast, Sasha and Grime’s were filled with dreaded realisation. Without moving their heads, their eyes meet one another, knowing exactly where this was going.

“There was a time when Newtopia was truly great,” Andrias began as he smiled with fond memories of true happiness, “Thousands of years ago, we were blessed with the gift of technological advancement by strangers from a faraway land. While we were weary of their intentions at first, they showed us the breadth of their knowledge, and together,” He looked to his side, his smile turning rather somber, “together we accomplished glorious things. We transformed a destitute marshland into an unstoppable empire!”

The group watched on with either confusion or wonder while the king narrated his tale. The Plantars were the ones who were the most confused, as Sprig and Polly glanced at one another, their eyes seemingly sending each other the same message. Meanwhile, Hop Pop just stood there with a dumb smile on his face, the old frog none the wiser.

“Oh, well that’s nice!” he started with surprise, but with excitement seasoning his tone. Anne, however, was the one who was the most weary of the group.

“Something’s not right here…” she muttered to herself. She thought back to what Sasha had said during their melee atop the capital walls. How something was off about the newt king. She turned to look at Sasha, who returned a frantic expression that was akin to her saying “Told ya so!” Anne’s lips parted ever so slightly, as she turned back to face Andrias, who continued his tale

“And these strangers made it all possible with this,” he gestured to the Box in his hand, “Honestly, it is truly amazing to discover what humans are capable of.”

At the mention of the word “humans,” one might swear they would be able to cut the silence in the room with a knife. A pin dropping could be heard with how quiet it was. 

Anne and Sasha’s jaws dropped at almost the exact same time. The Plantars were confused for a moment before Anne’s expression told them the whole story. Even Grime himself was quite surprised at the revelation, noticing that his own shock was rivalled only by his trusted lieutenant’s. Elsewhere in the fray, no one noticed that the only one who hadn’t even flinched at such a reveal was Marcy. The armored Newtopian ranger rubbed her forearm with anxiety. The pressure of secrecy bubbled to the surface as she raked her nails over her skin. 

“You…” Anne stuttered, willing herself to finally speak, “You mean…?”

The corners of Andrias’ mouth twitched with excitement, “Tell me, Anne, did you and your friends truly believe that you were the first humans to visit Amphibia?”

Anne took a step backwards, stumbling as the news hit her like a speeding car. Her breathing became labored, her heart starting to beat faster. Her eyes darted around the room, specifically to Sasha and Marcy. The former’s face conveyed her incredulous reaction, while the latter's reaction, Anne noticed, was surprisingly…subdued. 

Anne knew Marcy to be the type of person where a surprise of the caliber that Andrias just pulled would have her with palms pressed against her cheeks, jaw on the floor, and wheezing out a scraggly gasp from the recesses of her throat. Anne and Sasha found it overdramatic, but also somewhat cute. The only thing that Marcy did in response was purse her lips and, finally, stop scratching her forearm. 

At that moment, Anne was trying to recall what Sasha said during their duel high atop the walls of the city. Whatever it was, it was starting to seem very fitting for the current predicament.

“Yes, these strangers spoke of a world where anything was possible, and in sharing the Box, made Newtopia that very place,” Andrias continued, fist clenched, “Where they were from, they were a truly terrifying force. Others trembled at the mere mention, nay, the mere thought, of their name. 

Everyone feared the Clan of Wu."

And just like that all eyes were back on Marcy, who was trying to acquaint herself with the tips of her boots. She hated feeling the gaze of everyone on her. Anne found herself gobsmacked, cheekbones raised and nose wrinkled as her facial expressions conveyed her confused train of thought.

Then, she remembered.

“ Th-then there was also something about Marcy’s family, I... I don’t know exactly what it all means...”

It all made sense now.

“Y-Your…” Anne willed, gulping between her words, “your family?”

“Yes,” Andrias interjected, everyone turning to meet his glossy gaze once more, “her family. Yet, despite their help, the greatness that we spent years building together was stolen from us. I was weak to trust who my friends claimed to be, and under my watch, the Box was stolen. The Wu’s chased after its thief, and we never saw them again. It cost us everything, and after a thousand years, no one remembers our legacy.”

Andrias looked like he was in pain as he recounted his past. His body language conveyed a sense of longing and guilt. It was obvious that he blamed himself every day for what transpired; but as he weaved his tale like an expert carpenter, his tone changed. His pride returned, and he puffed his gargantuan chest out.

“But now, the Box is back!” he declared, holding up the prized artifact, “And with its power, Newtopia shall finally return to its former glory! And who better to make this all possible than a daughter of Wu herself."

Andrias pressed his foot to the floor, which caused a tile to glow white. The stone’s light was bright, and smoke hissed from its corners. Then, it slowly rose up, revealing itself to be a pillar.

Once it reached a high enough level, Andrias placed the Box on its surface. The crevices within the pillar began to glow purple, blue, and green, in correspondence with the color of the gems. Suddenly, an electric current surges through the throne room. Everyone shielded their eyes from the sparks.

The energy current surged through the entire castle and into the unsuspecting and crowded streets of Newtopia. Sections of roads and buildings were wrecked by the pure electricity emitting from the castle. Citizens, vendors, and tourists dispersed immediately, running for safety. Mothers cradled their children in their arms, their whisperings of sweet nothings doing nothing to assuage their cries of fear.

Suddenly, the castle glowed a bright blue, ancient symbols of a forgotten language plastered on the exterior walls. The ground began to quake as the castle shuddered and growled. The ground cracked and split apart. From beneath the castle, blue light began to reverberate, and in an instant, it  lifted off from the ground, powerful thrusters aiding in its skyward ascent.

Far outside of the Capitol, underground bunkers, long forgotten by time, glowed the same iridescent blue. Assembly lines and machines that hadn’t worked in centuries powered up, operating as if they had been functioning the previous day. One by one, tools and machines got to work putting together legions upon legions of robots, with silver, chrome armor and red, beady eyes. 

From all over the landscape, the robots burst forth from their underground prisons, powered by rocket thrusters on the soles of their feet. They soared effortlessly through the air, the entirety of them heading for the same destination.

In the throne room, the group lost their footing as they felt the building moving all around them. Anne tumbled and fell on her posterior, her sword clanking beside her. Polly and Sprig tumbled into one another, the pink frog grabbing his sister to prevent her from rolling away; Frobo shielded the two as Hop Pop latched on to their robot friend. Lady Olivia and Yunaan held fast to one another, the salamander general silently vowing to protect her at all costs. Sasha and Grime fell to the side, hitting the floor roughly

Once everyone became acclimated to the rising building, they all composed themselves. Sprig hopped over to the now-broken window, peering over the frame to the outside, where he saw just how high in the sky they were.

“Oh, we are way high up,” he gulped, and it was soon compounded by the sight of hundreds of robots flying at breakneck speeds towards the castle. 

Sprig noticed them just in time, and hopped off the window frame and rejoined the group in the center of the room. The robots, all resembling Frobo, flooded into the room and surrounded the group on all sides. They gasped in shock as robots trained their eyes on their prey.

“I’m sorry, Anne,” sneered Andrias, his diabolical smile betraying the sincerity of his so-called apology, “but I'm afraid you and your friends can't go home yet. Wouldn’t want you telling anyone about the coming invasion.” He wagged a giant blue finger at Anne as if he were scolding a child.

Anne went pale, “What?”

“Now that I have the Box back, I can finish the work my ancestors started!” he proclaimed with diabolical glee, his fingers curling, “From this castle, I will not only rule over this world, BUT ALL WORLDS!!"

The mad king howled a horrifying laugh, his maniacal bellows rolling up and down the throne room walls. He loomed over them all, his titanic form acting as a massive eclipse of the evening sunset. It'd only dawned upon them now just how terrifying and dangerous his size made him.

Anne wasn’t having any of it.

“No! You’ll never get away with this!”

“Anne’s right! We’ll stop you!” Sasha agreed, though her statement was dampened by the fact that she was still restrained.

The king simply laughed at the girls’ empty threat, “Stop me?!” he scoffed, almost incredulously, “I see a demonstration of my power is in order. Behold!”

Andrias taped the Box thrice with his thick, rugged fingers. Suddenly, the Box and the pillar lit up. Atop the castle, the structure’s spire suddenly transformed, closing in on itself as it formed into the shape of a cannon. The arm located at its end began to charge with blue lightning as the barrel glowed a bright blue. A high pitched whining emanated through the evening sky. The captives on the inside noticed the light as it reflected off the clouds just outside the windows. They turned their heads just in time to see the weapon fire a ray of pure blue energy at a tower, a seemingly small one, located in the far-off distance of the endless landscape. 

While they thought it was an insignificant structure, they soon realized exactly what it was when Grime audibly gasped, for the first time in shock at what he was seeing. Before he knew it, Toad Tower went up in a mushroom cloud of fiery blue. The shockwave of the explosion was felt for miles.

“NO!” Grime cried in horror. His fingers shook and he threatened to fall to his knees in despair. He thought of all the toads still there that were likely gone. All of his loyal soldiers, his officers, his sister…

Sasha was aghast as well, turning to Anne, a frantic look in her eyes, “Anne, we have to stop him! He’s crazy!”

Beads of cold sweat trickled down the sides of Anne’s temples. She had never seen Sasha look so desperate and afraid. If that didn’t underline the severity of the situation, she didn’t know what did.

“I don’t believe this,” Anne said, smacking the sides of her head, “We were so focused on each other that we couldn’t see what was right in front of us!”

“Focus, Anne!” piped Hop Pop, snapping Anne out of her own self-pity, “If we can get that music box away from him, maybe we’ll stand a fighting chance!”

“Right,” she nodded. With steel and resolve, she drew her sword, prepared to go down fighting. Andrias, however, was not amused. With an almost tired and annoyed look, he snapped his fingers.

On command, the robots surrounding the grew charged up their laser blasters, set on blowing the entire group away. Anne was the only one who stood ready despite the heavy odds. She would die on her feet, fighting with everything that she possibly had in her body.

Just as the robots fulfilled their master’s unspoken order, Marcy, who had been deathly silent the entire time, jumped in between the group. She looked absolutely wracked with panic, for the first time seemingly scared of what was about to happen.

“STOP!” she cried out, her voice cracking.

“Andrias,” Marcy turned to face the king, hands folded, pleading with all her might, “This isn’t what we agreed. You promised that no one would get hurt!” 

“No,” Andrias corrected, arms crossed and a smug grin of satisfaction on his face, “I said no one had to get hurt if they came willingly , Marcy. Do you expect our vision to become a reality if they choose to stand in our way? Pfft!” He held his hands on his hips in an akimbo manner, “C’mon kiddo, use your head.” 

Marcy craned her head and glanced back at the group over her shoulder. They looked utterly baffled as to what both of them were talking about.

“But…But...” she started, but her words turned to ash in her mouth. Then, ever the genius, she found them, and with a half-crooked smile, offered, “but maybe I can convince them! Yeah yeah! Once they hear about our vision for the future, they’ll see things clearly!”

Andrias rolled his eyes, as if he did not believe anything Marcy was saying, nor of what she was trying to convince him. Anne and Sasha took a few steps forward, some of the robots paying close attention to the pair. Approaching their friend from behind, they choose their words very carefully.

“Mar-Mar... what are you guys talking about?” Anne asked, mystified. A dreadful part of her knew the truth and it was slowly shaking her very core. “What ‘vision’?!”

“I told you, Anne! She’s in on it!” Sasha yelled.

Grime chipped in with a growl, “Her whole family’s been in on it!”

Sensing her crucial opportunity rapidly fleeting before her, Marcy desperately whirled around, her hair whipping alongside her, settling in a frazzled state.

“NO! Anne, please listen! He-- he promised he’d take us with him t-to the new worlds,” she told her, arms splayed to her sides, “and we’d spread the glory of Newtopia with everyone! A-and we would be together, and have all sorts of a-amazing adventures, forever and ever! We-we would never have to be apart ever again!”

Marcy clasped her hands together as an unsettling looking smile rested across the features of her face. Anne and Sasha, on the other hand, couldn’t believe what their friend was saying.

Anne gaped at her, “But why?”  

“Why indeed?” mused Andrias aloud with a faux sense of wonder as he stepped forward, “Let’s just drop the act now, eh, Mar-Mar?  Wouldn’t it feel more liberating to tell them the truth?” His index slowly reached up and flicked her frazzled raven hair. 

“Marcy, what’s going on?” Anne was increasingly sounding less confused and more scared . “First this…whatever this thing is with your ‘family,’ and now this…what is all this?!”

Poor Marcy looked petrified like a deer caught in the headlights. Still, it was nothing compared to the maelstrom of fear churning inside of her. It pained Marcy to leave her friends in the dark about anything that was bothering her at the best of times. This was a million times worse than anything before. They were both looking at her as if she had three heads. In her heart, she knew that deceiving them would hurt them; in her head, however, she knew they wouldn’t understand without just the right words. 

Once again, she made herself well acquainted with the dirty tips of her leather boots. She tried so hard to muster up the courage and articulate her case the best she could. Everything depended on it.

“Tick-tock, Mar-Mar,” chimed Andrias in a sadistically childlike tone, lounging on his throne with his legs crossed. It was obvious that he was enjoying the show unfolding in front of him. His grand design could wait a few more moments. This was too good to pass up.

Marcy clenched her fists to steady herself. She took a deep breath.

“I knew what the Box would do.” 

The silence that fell over the throne room was deafening. Anne’s eyes gawked as wide as they could manage. The sword nearly fell from her hand. Sasha’s shock lasted only a moment, before it converted into unmistakable fury.

She was the first to break the silence.

“... You’ve got to be kidding me,” she spoke with a voice full of steel. 

Poor Anne could only whimper, “No, it can’t be...” 

“Now,” Andrias clapped his huge hands, “was that so hard? You humans make things soooo hard for yourselves!” He laughed cruelly, slapping his knee a few times as he did. The king nearly had to wipe a tear from his eye from how hard he was laughing.

“You…” Anne’s voice had turned hollow, “you got us sent here on purpose?"

“But I did it for us!” Marcy suddenly yelled, surprising the two girls, “On the day we left, your birthday, they told me my dad got a new job out of state! They’re making me move away! They were going to tear us apart!”

“Marcy…” Anne started, but Marcy interrupted as it became clear through the creases on her face and the tears welling in her eyes that she was desperate to finally get this out of her system after five long months. It wasn’t as if she had the luxury of keeping it bottled up any longer.

“I-I found the box and I didn’t think it would actually work, but it did!” Marcy held her hands together and took both Anne and Sasha’s hands in each of her own, “And it sent us to a place where we never have to grow apart; where the three of us could be friends together forever!”

Sasha’s look of anger now turned to one of disgust. She pulled her hand away from Marcy, as if she had tried to poison her. Her face twisted with malice, her eyes alight with an inferno of anger and betrayal. It must’ve taken every last bit of her restraint not to punch Marcy right then and there.

None of that compared to the look of utter heartbreak on Anne’s face.

“How could you?” she asked her almost breathlessly, “I’ve been missing my parents! My life!”

Marcy didn’t know what to say after that. Sasha was glowering at her like she just killed her dog. Anne wasn’t quite there yet, but she knew she didn’t have much time left before she was. She couldn’t afford to have Anne, her first and seemingly only real friend, abandon and forsake her. Not now. Not after everything they have been through and everything she has done to get to this point.

She had to understand. She’d make her understand!

“But look at how much we’ve all grown,” Marcy raised her voice, tears at the edge of her eyes, struggling even to keep her clammy hands steady, “Look at the friendships that we’ve built!” She gestured to Sprig, who instinctively shrunk back, clearly disturbed, “Look at how close you and Sprig have become! And think about the future that we all can be a part of! We can be leaders! We can be heroes! We can make our own luck, our own fate! Andrias even said he would give the Earth to us!”

“Ar-Are you insane—?!”

“Anne, we can make the world, everything the way that we want it to be! Just imagine all the great things we could do! No more wars! No more poverty! No more hunger and suffering! And nobody can tell us ‘no’! Not even our parents! Look look look look!”

Marcy, still clasping Anne’s hand (and threatening to tear it clean off the way she was gripping it), reached inside her satchel and pulled out pieces of parchment paper. Her shaking hand and her sweaty palms caused her to momentarily drop them.

“Wait wait wait!” Marcy stuttered quickly, gathering the papers from the floor. Everyone else, even Andrias, could only watch in horror at how the girl was acting. Her desperation was thoroughly palpable, “Look at these pictures! It’s the Clan of Wu! My ancestors! Look at what they’ve done! What they accomplished for hundreds of years! This could be us!”

Marcy shook the papers in front of Anne, and out of sheer curiosity, even Sasha peered over to gander at them. The pictures consisted of ancient humans: gladiators, warlords, witches, and noblemen. It showcased their campaigns, their triumphs, their spoils of war. 

And at the center of every picture was the Calamity Box, their source of unyielding power!

“All of my life, I thought I was an outsider,” Marcy’s voice was trembling pathetically, as did her hand holding the pictures. It became too much, and she dropped the papers, the loose leaf parchments fluttering to the floor and pooling at her feet, “I never felt like I belonged anywhere, or with anyone... except whenever I was with you two!” Marcy wildly gesticulated to the two horrified girls, “You two always made me feel like I was a part of something. And then I learned about my ancestors, and it all makes sense now! I... I’m special, we’re special! We were meant to find the Box, we were meant for this moment, right here, right now! This is our destiny! It always has been!”

Marcy then lunged forward almost instinctively. Her body looked like it was moving on its own, unlike any human movement imaginable. She used her free hand to latch onto Anne’s wrist while she tightened her grip on her hand. 

“I gave you this! I GAVE YOU EVERYTHING!”

Marcy’s lips trembled, and the tears were now cascading down her cheeks, dribbling down her chin and onto the floor with the pictures. They stained her face, leaving ugly trails; her grin looked outright unhinged. 

Anne and Sasha, and the rest of the group, took in the girl before them in mortified silence. This was not the Marcy they had all grown to know. 

No, this was something else.

Sasha backed up slightly, trying to put some distance between her and the maniac that was before her. She was partially convinced that this... girl... in front of her was not Marcy. She thought that the cruel despot lounging like a fat cat on his stupid throne must have killed Marcy and replaced her with a body double. It happened in some of the cheesy spy movies they binged together, and she was convinced it could have happened here. This couldn’t have been their Marbles!

Anne just stood there with a thousand yard stare. She felt the faded, partially ripped fabric of Marcy’s fingerless gloves brush against her palm. Her skin wrinkled around the Newtopian ranger’s tight grasp. She looked deep into Marcy’s tear-tinged, red eyes, and recalled the ideal image her mind had created of her best friend.

That ideal image was a bright, spry, energetic girl full of not only outstanding intelligence, but warmth and humility. She had the most amazing laugh, and the most infectious smile. She laughed at whatever cheesy joke that Anne told, and would spend hours on end marathoning dumb television shows, drinking boba tea until they vomited, hanging out at the beach, and whatever carefree activities girls their age did for fun.

That “image” was effectively shattered into a thousand fragments, their memories forever tainted, and now Anne was probably truly seeing her best friend for the very first time: a selfish, possessive, manipulative liar. Someone who’d ripped her away from her home and turned her life upside down just so she could keep her and Sasha all to herself.

Regaining her composure and all of her senses, she yanked her arm free. Marcy stumbled a bit, surprised by Anne’s action. Anne took a step back and held her hand and wrist. Her coarse fingertips felt the nail marks that Marcy’s grip had left on her.  

“You’re…” she finally spoke, her voice shaking uncontrollably with horror, “you’re sick.”

With those two stinging words, Marcy’s unsettling, near Glasgow smile fell to pieces, “How...how can you...after everything we’ve been through...after everything I’ve given you…?!"

“Everything... you’ve given me...?” Anne could only parrot back. She felt her entire form shudder, wracked with disbelief from her friend’s earth shattering revelation, and retreated within herself, as if she were throwing up walls to protect herself.

Marcy’s mouth hung open, and she began muttering something. It was too incoherent for anyone to understand, and it was too quiet for anyone to hear. She took a few steps forward to close the distance between her and her friends, but they both retreated again. Anne shook her head, as if to silently say, “Stay away.”

All the while, Andrias was sitting comfortably above everyone, his head in his hand, leaning against his throne’s armrest. Everyone was so caught up in Marcy’s unhinged rant that they seemed to have forgotten the (quite literally) giant looming threat in front of them. 

“Yeesh!” he finally spoke up, reminding everyone of his presence, “That was hard to watch. And I thought the times you poured your heart out to me over flipwart were a bit over the edge.”

Anne and Sasha regained their composure and exchanged glances. They narrowed their eyes at each other and nodded. They knew now what they had to do. They faced their enemies with regained pride and courage. Their chests were raised high, and their fists clenched, ready for battle.

“We may have made some mistakes,” spoke Anne, looking around at her group of true comrades, “But you two? You’re evil!”

“Here we go,” Andrias rolled his eyes, appearing more bored than ever. He’d heard that line far too many times already.

Marcy, however, felt as though she had just been stabbed right through the heart. Her knees finally gave out under her, and she hit the tile floor with a thud. She hung her head low, her scraggly bangs covering her eyes. She silently sobbed, so quiet that anyone barely heard her. 

However, they were more focused on Andrias than they were on her.

“And I’m going to stop you,” Anne drew her sword and gripped it tight, “Right here, right now! Sasha!”

“I’ve got your back!” Sasha decreed and Anne swung her sword in a downward slash, cutting her bindings. 

“And I’ve got yours!” Grime used his brute strength to break his own restraints. Frobo handed both Sasha and Grime their weapons back, and they readied themselves, dropping into their battle stances.

“We’re with you, Anne,” Sprig cried, “‘til the end!” The pink frog pulled out his slingshot and knocked it with a large stone. Polly whipped out her spiked ball and chain. Hop Pop put his dukes up, while Yunaan unsheathed her metal claws from her gauntlets.

Marcy was still apoplectic on the floor, her head still tucked into her chest. As the commotion around her moved uninterrupted without her, no one noticed her reloading her crossbow, and no one saw her pull what appeared to be a sword hilt from a compartment on her back, hidden underneath her cape. She had stopped crying, and was now breathing at an even, steady pace. There were no more tears left for her to shed. 

“You guys are serious,” Andrias snickered, standing up from his throne, “Okay...” From the side of his throne, he pulled the hilt of what looked like a sword with no blade. However, the mad king whipped it to his side, and out shot a translucent, yellow blade made from pure light. He held it up to his face, illuminating his terrifying grimace.

“Let’s have some fun.”  

Before Andrias could even get started, a low, guttural growl reached everyone’s ears. It was almost inhuman, as if it were coming from a rabid animal ready to strike. The renegade heroes looked around to see where it was coming from. 

Andrias, however, only smirked wider. He saw it before anyone else. Anne and the group didn’t see it until it was too late. Without warning, an arrow split through the air and landed right in the middle of the group, dividing them. The arrow’s tip, made of a heavy metal, cracked the ground around it.

Anne gasped at the sight and turned around to see Marcy, another arrow locked and loaded, flying at her. She swung the hilt and a second blade of light shot out, ready to cleave her in twain!

Notes:

Talk about a cliffhanger, huh?

So there you have it. All of Marcy's secrets have been laid bare, and what did it cost her? Damn near everything!

The next chapter is gong to be a fast-paced, action filled roller coaster. Perhaps the exact opposite of this more dialogue-laden one. Either way, I hope you guys are excited as I am to see how this battle will play out.

Thank you all for reading, be sure to comment and provide constructive criticism on how I can improve the chapter and I will see you all soon!

This is TheAllTimeGreatest signing off!

Chapter 6

Summary:

Marcy and Andrias' secrets have been exposed, forcing them to fight to protect their vision, but our ragtag group of heroes aren't going down without a fight!

Notes:

Once again, coming back at you with another rather quickly finished chapter, courtesy of another slow Sunday and the always fantastic editing skills of MagicMan!

I cannot thank you guys enough for your reviews and your kind words of encouragement! This chapter, like I said before, will be more action-packed, with chaos ensuing around every corner! Strap yourselves in, folks, because things are about to get real heavy!

Enjoy!

Anne barely had enough time to react as a fiery-eyed Marcy crashed into her. Her light sword clashed with the worn metal of Anne’s trusty weapon, sending sparks flying through the air; they both burbled backwards as Marcy’s forward momentum took them both. Marcy flipped to her feet, knees bent and legs stretched in a three point stance.

She aimed her crossbow at her and fired a single arrow. Anne stumbled back to her feet just as the arrow struck her dead center in her chest, her bronze plate catching the arrow.

Her comrades gasped. Sasha’s head snapped a full ninety degrees in panic.

“Anne!” she cried. Anne had been shaken off-balance as her ribs pushed against her armor, but she swiftly grabbed the arrow and tore it from her person. 

“I’m fine! Don’t worry about me!” Before Anne could inspect the arrow tip to deduce whether or not it had pierced her skin, Marcy was already upon her once more. She reacted with barely enough time to get her sword up, the pure light of the traitor’s blade grinding against the tempered steel.

Sasha, reluctantly, turned away from the emerging fight between two former friends to see Andrias pointing his giant blue finger towards the group, signalling his legions of killer robots into action.

Just like that, the throne room devolved into utter chaos. The frontline legion of robots charged towards Sasha, who raced forward with Grime hot on her tail, warhammer gripped tightly in his brawny palms. Using her twin swords, Sasha effortlessly cut down one robot, while Grime smashed another with his hammer, caving its metal skull in, exposing nothing but gears and wires. 

The two went back to back and smirked at one another, obviously pleased with their work. The toad captain looked across the room and saw Hop Pop engaging, rather idiotically, unarmed with another robot, delivering an uppercut that briefly stunned it. It was a moment until the pain of punching unyielding steel registered in Hop Pop’s brain, biting his bottom lip in pain as he covered up his throbbing hand. The robot regained its composure and its eyes lit up red, possibly in anger. As it readied to vaporize the old frog right on the spot, Grime raced over and jumped into the air, hammer raised above his head. He brought it down and flattened the robot with ease. Both the older frog and battle weary toad nodded at one another in a sign of mutual respect.

As the battle raged on around them, Olivia found herself completely out of her element. Laser rays constantly zoomed and damaged the once regal throne room. She had no fighting skills, and could not help but wonder if it was only a matter of time before she took that one false step.

As karma had it, that might have been now. One of the robots that Grime let fly was sent hurtling straight at Olivia. She caught the moving shape in the corner of her eye, but luckily for her, General Yunaan was right there, jumping in front and slicing the machine clean in half, with either part redirecting to both sides of Olivia. Yunaan put her arm in front of Olivia, shielding the noble with her claws.

Polly was perched precariously on Frobo’s back. She ordered the only friendly metal man in the room to attack its more aggressive brethren. Firing a beam from its eye, Frobo burned a giant hole into the center of one of his foes, while he activated a launchpad located directly underneath the purple tadpole, which launched her at one of the robots. She swung her spiked ball and chain at one’s head, cleaving it clean off! Another robot attempted to fire its laser at Polly, but the young frog was quicker, jumping out of the way and swinging her chain at its leg, bringing it down to one knee. She jumped up and whacked the robot across the back of the head! The last thing it saw through its red-tinged vision was the pollywog standing over her, and her metal friend charging up its laser!

Too bad for them, they failed to notice the other robot behind them. They turned around just in time to see if firing up three very large blasters. Before they could do anything, a large stone clanked off the robot’s back. Turning around, annoyed, Sprig was proudly holding his slingshot, silently letting the robot know that he was ready to dance!

The robot turned its blasters on the pink frog and fired, but Sprig’s deft agility and flexibility allowed him to easily dodge each shot with a series of jumps and flips. Back flipping into the air, Sprig dug into his pocket and pulled out three mud pies. He loaded them into his slingshot and let them fly, splattering the barrels of each of its blasters! The cannons erupted, destroying the robot where it stood.

As all of this was happening, Anne and Marcy were in a world entirely of their own. Their gazes were fixed unwavering on each other as they swung their swords, each clash illuminated the throne room with a large splash of sparks. Marcy swung wildly with each strike, forgoing any form or strategy. Her scowl pulsated with a deadly mixture of anguish and betrayal. Each thrust, each hack, spoke its own story of unspeakable anger. Anne, her guard thrown off by the scale of Marcy’s aggression, tried to keep herself collected, focusing on parrying and gliding around each of her attacks. She knew that she could not afford any missteps or mistakes by allowing herself to succumb to the same emotions.

“How could you do this to us?!” Marcy growled, practically spraying Anne with the venom in her words, “We’re supposed to be best friends for life! I did all this for us! And this is how you repay me?!”

“How could I-- are you kidding me?!” Anne shook her head at her in disbelief, “You stole me and Sasha away from our lives!” Their blades locked and their faces were just inches apart, “You lied to me about everything! You used me just to get what you want, Marcy!”

“This was never about me, Anne! This was always about us! Keeping us together no matter what!!” Marcy screamed, sweeping Anne’s leg. She landed on her back as the wind was knocked out of her. Marcy stood menacingly over her, crackling blade at her side. 

“And you’re choosing those… things! Over me?!”  

“Those ‘things’ are my family!” Anne glared up at her defiantly, holding onto her bruising side. “And they’ve cared more about me than a selfish brat like you ever did!” 

Marcy gritted her teeth with so much force that they threatened to crack inside her mouth. She tightened her grip around her hilt; she nearly bent the steel with her strength of grip. She then took her blade with two hands, the light shadowing her face from beneath, the remaining stains of her tears blotching her cheeks an ugly color. She raised it aloft above her head, ready to strike down her former best friend.

Yet as her mind willed her to do the deed, Marcy found her body would not line up with her brain. She thought that she had the wherewithal to go through with it.; Maybe deep down she knew she could never do something so coldblooded, not someone she still loved in spite of her anger. Maybe it was just cowardice. Regardless of whatever it was holding her back, Marcy couldn’t rip off the bandaid. The undulating blade wavered impotently in midair. 

Anne finally saw her opening. Propping herself up on her left leg, she shot her right leg upward. It made contact with Marcy’s hands, the force of the blow causing her iron grip on the blade to slip, sending it into the air. The sudden disarming caught Marcy completely off guard, as well as off balance. She made an effort to try and grab the hilt as it came down, but was suddenly kicked in the chest by a shoeless foot

She was sent sprawling against the marble  floor as Anne rose to her feet.. With shaky confidence and wincing in dull pain, she kicked the laser sword’s hilt as far as she could across the room and stalked her way over to Marcy. 

Marcy struggled to sit herself upright through the gasping pain and she grasped at her breastplate. She felt jagged gaps and the fabric of her glove rip, leaving her rugged skin exposed. She peered down and saw that Anne’s powerful kick had cracked her breastplate, leaving a long mark from her left side to the center.

When she picked up the sound of steel scraping against marble and then the sight of her friend marching upon her, malevolent intent blazing in her eyes, Marcy frantically loaded her crossbow with another arrow and aimed it at her. Unlike before, her gait was unsteady, and she was trembling. Almost as if she was afraid.

“Anne, you…” Marcy’s breath shook her frame, “Y-You wouldn’t… y-you can’t.”

Anne stopped in her tracks and looked down at her sword, then back at Marcy. She had an arrow locked and loaded, but Anne knew she wasn’t going to fire it. Whatever dark, nasty place her mind had fallen down, Marcy still wouldn’t end her life when she had the clear opportunity. In her heart, Anne knew that she didn’t have the conviction to carry out the deed herself either.   

Back in her duel with Sasha, she remembered how being driven by your anger and sadness had brought out the absolute worst in her. Now, after seeing an even worse version of that in her former friend, the idea of lowering herself to whatever Marcy had become made her sick to her stomach. 

No, Anne internally told herself, I’m not gonna let it end like this.

She let her sword dangle by her side, “You’re right,” Anne hung her head, “I can’t…”

Marcy’s look of panic instantly turned into a smirk. The corners of her mouth twitched ever so slightly. 

“But that doesn’t mean… I’M NOT GONNA TEAR YOU LIMB FROM LIMB!”

Letting out a scream that could curdle the blood of the fiercest toad, Anne discarded her sword and lunged at her! Marcy’s smile evaporated in a nanosecond. With a shaky resolve and sweat pouring down her arm, she raised her crossbow up and fired, but Anne’s reflexes were much quicker, aided by the sudden boost of adrenaline and endorphins. She ducked the arrow and tackled Marcy with the speed of a freight train!

Around the two brawling girls, the battle raged on! The group realized that the robots were much tougher than they thought. While the frontline was much more fragile, the next wave was tougher. Sasha was knocked back by the punch of one of the machines. The robot immediately began firing on her with its blasters, but Yunaan jumped in front of her and began deflecting the bolts with her claws. 

Sensing a plan, Yunaan knelt down as Grime used her back as a stepping stool to launch himself into the air and bring the hammer down on the robot. He rolled through the strike and up to his feet to find himself confronted by another robot, whose two hands combined to form a buzzsaw! Grime turned the hammer horizontally and held back the grinding tool of death.

Just as Sasha was about to spring into action, Grime, using all of his strength, pushed the hammerhead side in a semicircle arc, forcing the buzzsaw into the floor. The robot struggled to wrench it loose from the ground, until Grime swung the hammer and cleaned its arm clean off. 

Sasha winced in pain before Yunaan roughly pulled her to her feet, “On your feet, Lieutenant!” 

Sasha looked the newt general in the eye, and before she could say anything, they were surrounded, once more, on all sides. 

“So I take it that things between us are cool?” Sasha asked as she sliced a robot in half. Yunaan backflipped over Sasha and landed with her back to two robots. She twisted up and to her right, impaling two robots in the head with her claws before she heaved them up and chucked them the other way, sending them barreling into two other robots.

“Depends on if you survive or not!” Yunaan’s sharp teeth reflected the dark orange light that the sun emitted. 

“Me?” Sasha asked sarcastically before she leapfrogged over Yunaan and struck the robot in the face with a well placed kick, “More like you!” She smirked with smug satisfaction.

“Oh really?” Yunaan charged Sasha and, using her superior height, springboarded off of Sasha’s shoulders and dove at the robot Sasha just kicked, driving both her claws into the robot’s abdomen, ripping out its gears and wires in an explosion of sparks, “I beg to differ!”

Sasha and Yunaan briefly shared a glance of mutual respect before another voice cut them short.

“Uh, excuse me!” Grime was still struggling against the one armed robot, “I hate to interrupt your petty display of oneupsmanship, but I could use some help here!”

Both women saw that Grime was being backed up by the robot, who was still swiping at the toad captain with its lone buzzsaw arm. They both sprang into action, racing towards their ally. The robot sensed them and began firing more blasters, which they both effortlessly dodged. 

Sasha went in first, “Grime, move to the side!”

Grime obeyed his Lieutenant for once, and as the robot brought its saw upward, Sasha slid in between the robot’s legs, slicing them down with her twin swords. It lost its balance without its feet and tumbled over. Yunaan came in front flipped over the robot, using her claws to cut both of the robot’s arms off. She landed on her feet next to Sasha.

What remained of the robot’s body fell to the floor, and to finish it off, Grime raised his war hammer and brought it down on its head, smashing it to bits.

Sprig and Polly stood side by side as they faced another horde of robots, “Sprig, fling me!” Polly yelled, to which her brother responded by knocking his slingshot with the pollywog and shooting her in the direction of the robots. She landed on one robot’s head, and one of its comrades fired its laser at Polly. She jumped at the last second as the robot accidentally destroyed its ally; it also was destroyed when Polly jumped at it and split its head with her spiked ball and chain.

The remaining two robots went on the offensive, with one of them launching its arms out and snatching Polly, causing her to drop her weapon! It held Polly as the other robot began firing up its laser! 

“Polly!” Sprig yelled in horror, as Polly’s short life flashed before her eyes. 

“AHHHHHHHHH!” The shrill shriek echoed through the air as, suddenly, Hop Pop jumped onto the robot from behind. It stumbled as it aimed to get the stubborn frog off of it. Frobo, sending his master in danger, ran towards the chaos and met the robot head on. He reeled back and threw his fist forward. The force of the punch caused it to drop Polly. It fell on its back and Frobo pounced on it, delivering several sharp jabs to its head.

Anne and Marcy were tumbling around the marble floor in a blur of kicks and punches as they both fought to regain the upper hand. It didn’t take long for Anne’s athletic superiority and unrivaled fury to pin Marcy down and begin delivering haymakers to her face. Marcy’s brain rattled inside her skull. Her arm was pinned by Anne’s knee and left her unable to use her crossbow.

“YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A LIAR!” Anne screamed in Marcy’s face, “A FILTHY!” 

Punch!

“STINKIN’!”

Punch! 

“STUPID!”

Punch!

“BACKSTABBING!!”

Punch!

“ LIAR !”

Punch! Punch! Punch!

Five months. Five months of being separated from her family. Five months of being almost eaten alive by giant insects on a near daily basis. She’d been subjected to trauma no child her age could imagine. All because of her.

Now she had the perpetrator of her pain at her mercy and she couldn’t care less what Andrias would do to her; she was going to smash Marcy’s ‘sweet, innocent’ face into a bloody pulp. 

As Anne was about to deliver her next blow, Marcy, using her legs, bucked Anne forward, causing her to loosen her mount. Noticing in that split second that there was a small opening on the side of Anne’s armor, most likely caused by the arrow that she had fired at her. Grabbing the backs of her knees, Marcy clinched her and sunk her teeth into her side.

Anne howled in searing pain as Marcy turned the tables and took a full mount position on top of her. She ripped her teeth away from Anne’s side, along with the fabric of her shirt and some of her skin. She seized Anne by the throat, who fruitlessly clawed and scratched at her face. 

To stun her, she took the sides of Anne’s head and started to bashed her into the ground. It was time for Anne’s brain to get a good rattling around. She saw stars circling around her as her head lulled backwards.

“We were supposed to do this together!!” Marcy shrieked over the repetitive thud of human skull against marble, “We were going to remake the world the way we wanted it! We were meant to rule side-by-side!!” ”

She heaved Anne’s limp body up again and, with all her might, drove it into the floor again! Anne felt the air pulled from her lungs. Her chest burned like hot fire. She wheezed out a ragged cough.

“You…” she willed herself, “you don’t deserve us! You never did!” 

Anne curled her hand into a fist and weakly threw a punch at Marcy, who easily moved around it as Anne’s momentum had turned her onto her stomach. Before she could fully realize the worse position she was in with all of Marcy’s weight bearing down on her lower back, the apoplectic ranger grabbed a handful of her messy hair and slammed her face first into the floor!

“TAKE THAT BACK!!” Marcy slammed her again, “TAKE IT BACK!!!” And again, “I SAID TAKE IT BAAACK!!!”

Marcy only stopped pounding Anne’s face once her arms grew too tired to continue. She lifted Anne’s face up to get a good look at her bruised and battered mug.

“You’re gonna regret treating me like this, Anne,” Marcy hissed into her ear, “but I’ll forgive you, right after I’m done beating some sense into you!”

“HEY MAR-MAR!”

“Wha--”

Marcy didn’t have time to finish before Sasha’s armoured shin collided with her face! It sent the girl flying across the room, bouncing off the tiles, limbs flailing like a ragdoll. She skidded to a stop at a baffled Andrias’ feet. 

She held her throbbing head . Her hand brushed against her hair, and she realized that she was missing something.

Across the room stood Sasha, who was glaring daggers at her former friend. Underneath her boot was Marcy’s hair beret. With effortless ease, Sasha crushed the accessory underneath her sole, grinding it for good measure. Marcy gasped; the beret had been a gift from Sasha for her tenth birthday, and she had worn it every day since.

“You alright?” Sasha held a hand out to Anne and helped to her feet.

“I’ll be fine, Sash.” Anne answered, as their group rallied in the center of the room, standing amongst the corpses of their robot enemies. To say Andrias was annoyed was a massive understatement.

“Enough!” 

He drove his giant sword into the ground, unleashing a pulse of energy that reverberated through the room. The force separated the group of heroes, knocking them into the pillars. Their bodies were wracked with pain as they slid down to the floor in a heap. Some of the robots that the group hadn’t destroyed had recuperated and were back on their feet. For Polly, she started to roll to the center of the room. Dazed and confused, she noticed a shadow come over her entire being. She looked up and saw the massive sole of Andrias’ giant boot.

The entire group gasped, “Polly! No!” Anne cried.

Polly braced herself for her imminent fate, but just as Andrias was about to finish her off, he felt metal, tendril-like arms wrap around his torso, preventing him from moving. He turned around to see Frobo doing everything he possibly could to protect his friend.

“Polly,” Frobo’s robotic voice crackled, “I will save you!”

“Oh look at that,” Andrias was more annoyed than frustrated, “One of my robots. Must be defective. Marcy?”

The group looked over to see Marcy knocking another arrow and letting it fly. As it whizzed overhead, they heard a faint ticking sound. The arrow struck Frobo in the chest. His mechanical pupils looked down to see the arrow stuck to his metallic skin; the real kicker was that there was a boomshroom attached to where the tip would be.

“Uh oh…” Frobo lamented before looking at Polly one last time.

The boomshroom detonated, scrambling Frobo’s body and sending it flying in all directions!

“Frobo!” Polly cried. Her eyes were as wide as dinner plates. Tears welled up in her eyes as her lip quivered in painful sorrow. Before she was reduced to a blubbering mess, a great anger enveloped every fiber of her being.

“You...YOU MONSTERS!”

“Oh, don’t worry.” Andrias raised a fist, “You’re up next!”

With those two words, Andrias brought his fist down on Polly, flattening her where she stood. The entire group cried out for her. Andrias brought his fist up, half expecting to have to clean whatever remained of the tadpole off his knuckles. However, he saw nothing but the crushed remains of the floor.

“What the?” Andrias, confusedly, tabored off.

“Over here, you big bozo!”

Everyone in the room looked to the source of the voice, and in a cloud of dust saw a small, globular figure standing.

Wait, standing?

The dust cleared and, yes, standing there, was Polly, a sly grin on her face, and two freshly developed legs underneath her.

“Guess who just got her leeeeewhoaaaaa!” Polly was about to make a proud statement until she began to stumble, obviously not used to having appendages underneath her.

“My little baby’s got legs!” Hop Pop lit up with astonishment.

“This is weird!” Sprig conceded.

Polly looked down at her new legs in wonder. So many possibilities, so many opportunities, so many new ways to crush her enemies.

“Polly!” Her train of thought was interrupted as Sasha grabbed the pollywog’s attention. Turning to the toad lieutenant, Sasha was pointing towards the pillar, “The Box! Get the Box!”

Seeing the Box still emanating its raw power, Polly knew what she had to do, “On it!” And with that, she dashed past Andrias, “Stop that little brat!” The robots redirected their attention from the group and aimed their blasters at Polly. As they blasted at the sprinting pollywog, she did everything she could to dodge and evade, occasionally stumbling over her own stubby feet. She could see the pillar getting closer. Seeing only two more robots in front of her, she jumped at one as the other fired. It burned a hole through the other’s chest as Polly jumped to the other. The fallen robot, as a death reflex, fired its cannon one last time at Polly, who jumped safely away from the other robot just in time as its head was blasted clean off its shoulders.

She landed on the pillar and lifted the Box, “Got it!” Polly hoisted the Box high. The castle began to power down, floating gently back to the ground as the thrusters died down. The group cheered in joy, with Hop Pop and Anne chanting, “Go Polly go!” and “You did it, girl!” respectively.

“Not so fast!”

They turned their heads and there stood the towering, menacing form of Andrias before one of the castle’s shattered stained-glass windows.

“You’ve all got spunk, real chutzpah,” he commended them, though his contemptuous sneer was apparent. “But this ends now.”

Andrias took a giant step to his left, and in doing so, revealed a sight that caused everyone to take bated breath.

Marcy was standing by the window ledge. Her eyes were bloodshot and creases lined the spaces above her cheekbones. In the grasp of her left hand was Sprig, the pink frog kicking and swinging his legs to and 'fro in a vain attempt to free himself from the traitor's grip. Marcy's fingers flexed tightly around the carotid arteries as she dug her palm roughly into the scruff of Sprig's neck.

"Guys," Sprig choked out weakly, his vocal chords straining against Marcy's oppressive vice grip, "Don't listen to these bullies. I'll be fine!"

Andrias gave an annoyed side glance at the pink amphibian, "We'll see. Now put back the Box, or this twerp learns how to fly.” 

Anne could feel her breath hitch in the back of her throat. Her lungs refused to work correctly. Her hands began to tremble, causing her to lay one on top of the other in order to steady them. She had to adjust her stance to prevent herself from dropping to her knees. All of this conveyed the message that she could not believe what was transpiring before her very eyes. 

Marcy, the affectionately nicknamed Mar-Mar, her best friend since preschool, was about to do the unthinkable. Until the last ten minutes or so, Anne simply could not have fathomed such a possibility. This was the girl who aimlessly ambled through life with her face buried in her portable gaming console; her wide eyes and infectious, goofy smile completely honed-in on the sounds and animation of whatever new game she was jockeying for a new high score in. The same girl that spent hours on end at her bedroom desk, world-building for their next Dungeons and Dragons adventure.

Now... you’d have thought she’d grown accustomed to everything she thought she knew being pulverised on a regular basis.

"Marcy…" Anne spoke in a voice that barely registered above a whisper, but the silence in the throne room was able to carry it to Marcy's ears, "Please…please don't."

Marcy's haggard breathing sliced through the air. Each inhale she took radiated in the silence and off the castle walls. Her hair was in disarray, matted and scrambled in all different places. An aura of dread hung in the air.

"You think I wanted any of this, Anne?" Marcy started, her voice low and threatening, "You think I want to do this to you?! You think I want to see you in so much pain?!"

Without warning or hesitation, Marcy grabbed Sprig's ankle with her right hand. She rotated her body so that it was facing the broken, shattered window behind her. Throwing caution to the wind, Marcy dangled Sprig out the window by his foot, just beyond its broken frame. The mere concept of gravity forced Sprig's hat and goggles off of his head, catching it in his tiny hands. Sprig screamed in terror, getting an inverted look at the world below him. So very, very far down.

"SPRIG!" Hop Pop and Polly yelled, the latter from her position atop the pillar that housed the Calamity Box. The two were on the verge of tears, unable to imagine the possibility of someone they trusted with their very lives hurting their beloved Sprig.

"I gave…" Marcy muttered in a low, nasty sneer, "I gave you everything you have in this world."

Then, Marcy snapped her head towards the group in general, but her eyes, her veiny, bloodshot, exhausted eyes, connected solely with Anne's.

"It's all because of me, Anne!" Marcy yelled, her left hand extended outward, her fingers contorted with fury, "I gave you this, and I can take it all away!" Her teeth clenched like she was biting down on a rotting cavity. Her chest rose and fell unevenly with each breath she took.

"Now…put. The Box. BACK!"

"Anne, don't do it!" Sprig yelled but was sharply cut off when Marcy loosened her grip slightly on his foot, causing him to inch down further. 

"SHUT UP!" Marcy yelled, twisting her head to face Sprig, her eyes meeting his own, filled with dread.

Anne's eyes darted back and forth between Marcy and Sprig, and Polly, who still held the Box in question in her little stubby hands. She had to make a decision, and she had to make it now. She locked eyes with Marcy, and from her gaze alone, she knew that she was desperate enough, twisted enough, to pull the trigger, to act on her threat. Anne looked towards Polly with regret in her eyes.

"Polly, put the box back."

"But Anne--"

"Just do it, Polly!"

Polly slightly flinched when Anne raised her voice. In her heart, she knew it was the right thing to do, but she knew it wasn't what Sprig wanted. She placed the Box back on the pillar. Suddenly, the castle lit up once again, the entire room coming to a halt for a split second before they could feel the thrusters beneath the building reignite. The robots roared back to life, the red glare of their eyes refocusing on the room in front of them. One ensnared Polly in its long, metal arms and dragged her back over to the group, plopping her down next to Hop Pop, where her first instinct was to embrace the lifeless head of her fallen robot friend. The others regained their composure and stood back up, surrounding the renegade group on all sides. 

Anne looked around at them and back to Andrias, who stood there in the sidelines like the dark, twisted puppet master he was, taking in the defeat of his enemies, basking in their sorrow. However obviously futile it was to try and appeal to the giant salamander's sense of decency—there was little to none to be found—what other choice did she have? 

"Okay dude, you have what you want, now please, just let him go," she beseeched him, “He's my best friend. In this world, or in any other world."

One might agree that there is a perfect time, as well as a perfect place, for everything. No matter how big, or small, there is a certain time for sentimental, heartfelt words such as these.

This, however, was not one of those times.

The moment those words left Anne's lips, Marcy froze. She could not bring herself to move as she processed exactly what she had just heard. Within a second, her brain forced her to flash back to all the joyous childhood memories she and Anne had over the years. Their first meeting, playing on the swings in the cool, crisp autumn air; their first day of school together, their birthdays and sleepovers spent battling for video game supremacy and bragging rights. 

It all came back to Marcy at that very moment. And it unleashed something within her that she hadn't felt before.

Rage. Pure, undiluted, unadulterated rage.

That rage churned inside the pit of Marcy's core like an oil derrick burrowing deep into the Earth's crust. It twisted her insides and caused her heartbeat to falter. Her breathing became more ragged and her grip on the pink frog's ankle tightening to the point that she swore she heard bones start to crack. Her other hand tightened into a vein-pulsating fist, her sharp nails digging into her calloused palm. 

From his upside-down position, Sprig noticed the change in his captor, and a feeling of fear and anguish washed over him like a tidal wave. Andrias himself noticed it as well, but a different feeling washed over him. He truly relished these rare moments when things lined up just perfectly. With a sick smile and evil intentions, he chuckled, his large frame shaking with mirth.

"That's the thing about friends, isn't it?" Andrias rhetorically asked, head cocking to the side, "The more you love them, the more it hurts when they go. Allow me to demonstrate."

Anne, Hop Pop, Polly, Sasha, and Grime could do nothing but watch in horror as Andrias, wordlessly, turned to Marcy, still fuming and enraged by Anne's words of betrayal. He nodded his head slightly in her direction. Without even looking back at the squeaky pink toy for which she had just been passed over, Marcy locked eyes with Anne once more. For what seemed like an eternity, Marcy spent the next few seconds savoring the look on Anne's face. 

When the horrifying realization of her error dawned on the protector of Wardwood, she knew it was too late. The color drained from her face. Her lips parted as her one word fell on deaf ears.

"No..."

Marcy smiled, and she let go.

Notes:

I just love leave you guys with a cliffhanger! (this one is rather literal)

One more chapter left that takes place in the True Colors episode and we should be ready for the next arc! This will all be explained at the end of the next chapter, as me and MagicMan are still hammering out the semantics, especially since Season 3 is still airing.

As always, reviews and constructive criticism are always welcome, and I will see you guys in the next chapter!

This is TheAllTimeGreatest signing off!

Chapter 7

Summary:

Sprig pays the consequences for the group's insubordination, Anne unlocks her full potential, Marcy falls deeper and deeper into the endless abyss, and the battle between good and evil comes to a head!

Notes:

Did anyone see today's episode? No spoilers, but I'm afraid. Very, very afraid.

Let's turn our focus to something lighter (and by lighter, I mean only slightly less dark than "Olivia and Yunaan"): Today's new chapter! This wraps up the rest of True Colors. As I explained in the last chapter, I will elaborate on the plans for Season 3 in the end notes.

Until then, my friends, enjoy the chapter! At 15 pages, this is the longest one yet!

EDIT (11/14/2021): Please note the rating change, as this chapter contains some pretty heavy violence.

Anne felt the seconds tick by slowly. They feel like an eternity. 

In our most traumatic moments, time itself slows to a grinding halt, where the receptors in our brains can barely register what is happening around us.

Anne felt all of this and much more as she watched her once best friend, her oldest companion, her Mar-Mar, drop Sprig out the window of the soaring castle. She couldn’t even begin to comprehend what had just transpired before her eyes. The pained cries of anguish from Hop Pop and Polly weren’t enough to jar her from her blank stupor. Her whole world seemed to close in on itself; the dark, gaping maw of its jaws threatened to swallow her whole like Jonah and the whale.

She allowed herself to blink when the reality of what just happened set in. The Thai girl didn’t feel the tears that started streaming down the bruised and bloodied cheeks of her face, mixing together in an macabre union. She didn’t even feel the bruises on her knees throb in pain as she sunk to the rough, tiled floor of the throne room.

She’d killed him. Marcy had murdered an innocent ten-year-old frog. She did it just to spite her. Because she could.

Anne’s palms laid flat upon the stones, her lips parted and exhaled a breath from the center of her chest. It was a throaty, shallow gasp, as if someone had punched her in the chest with the force of a train. 

“You’re a hero! An ugly, ugly, ugly hero!”

She was reminded of their first meeting. She had nearly left him for mantis food. He ended up defending her before a mob of his townsfolk. 

“Thanks for having my back, Sprig.”

“Spranne against the world!”

He’d stopped her from falling back into the same toxic cycle back. In that moment, he solidified himself as her true best friend.

Anne’s breathing became more labored, and she made every effort to try and control herself. She continued to remember her best times with Sprig, including when she would often read by candlelight in the dead of night, Sprig dozing off as his head lay softly on her arm. 

She scrunched her eyes shut tight, her anger bubbling to the surface like an active volcano. Anne could feel her pain, her despair well up. 

Then, the unthinkable happened.

Anne’s eyes snapped open; no one could see her once chocolate pupils had turned a fiery blue. 

A stone’s throw across the room, outside of anyone’s attention, the blue gem encrusted upon the Calamity Box began to flicker to life. Then, it roared back to life as a blue wave of ethereal energy flowed from it like smoke from a censer. As if it sensed the presence of a missing phantom limb, it flowed towards Anne, who remained supine on the floor

Just like that, Anne was alight with an otherworldly blue glow. 

When the group around her took notice for the first time, they let out a collective gasp of shock.

Andrias, to his immense horror, immediately cottoned on to what was happening. 

“No, it can’t be...” the bombastic monarch sounded shaken.

Tears formed near the rims of Sasha’s tired eyes. They were inadvertent, she would say to anyone who had the gall to point them out. In the fifteen minutes since she found out that her close friend was a certified whack jobit still sounded unfathomable to her how a girl who was in tatters after she broke her old Pintendo GS when she was seven was capable of a blatant act of murder.

However, she was forced to forsake her emotions when she noticed what was happening to Anne. With all the attention diverted to her, Sasha saw an opportunity; then, she remembered.

The flight back to Newtopia had been rough, to say the least. Joe Sparrow had to stop every few hundred miles to rest; Marcy said it had to do with the fact that he was carrying three humans, three frogs, a toad, and all of their accompanying equipment. 

While the others on the flight amused themselves accordingly, Sasha had looked over at Marcy. The girl had a worried look on her face. She caught her doing breathing techniques. Sasha dug her nails into her forearm as she scratched herself. 

“You alright, Marbles?” Sasha asked, concerned. Marcy turned her head towards Sasha and smiled.

“Huh? Oh yeah, I’m fine,” Marcy looked down at her feet, “I’m just anxious to get home and all.” She appeared to catch herself and patted the giant sparrow on the back of his neck. 

“A-And I’m a lil’ worried about Joe. Poor thing’s never had to carry this much.” Marcy followed up.

“Are you sure you don’t need a break?” Sasha put a hand on the girl’s arm. Marcy covered it with her own. Sasha’s touch was warm and comforting.

“Positive,” Marcy answered, a smile adorning her face, “Plus, I’m the only one who knows how to fly ‘im.”

Sasha shuffled in her seat, mulling over what she said for a moment, until she had a little lightbulb moment.

“Well... maybe you can show me how to fly Joe here.” 

Marcy stared back at her over her shoulder, looking quite puzzled over the request.

“Really? I mean, now?” Marcy was genuinely asking, before she realized that the way she said it made her seem a bit harsh, “N-Not that I’m against it or anything! It’s just…we’re almost ready to go home, so it’s…not really going to matter.”

Her voice trailed off as she averted her gaze from Sasha, cursing herself for her choice of words. Sensing her friend’s apprehensiveness and shyness, Sasha merely smiled.

“I mean, both you and Anne know how to drive huge animals,,” Sasha answered, “And who knows? Maybe I can put those tips and tricks to good use in our Vagabondia Chronicles adventures.”

Marcy gasped and lit up upon hearing Sasha mention her favorite game of all time! Sasha was apathetic to the RPG before Amphibia, so to say that she was excited was an understatement. Her mouth was comically agape. Sasha inwardly chuckled. Classic Mar-Mar.

Marcy grabbed Sasha’s wrist and guided her hand over to one of Joe’s reins, “Ok! So, here’s how you should approach it…”

Sasha knew what needed to be done. No matter how absolutely bonkers she knew it sounded in her head.

With everyone else distracted by whatever in the ever lovin’ heck was going on with Anne, Sasha made a mad dash for the window! Only Grime and one of the robots were too late in noticing the girl making a break for it, the latter trying to fire a blast at her. The shot went low, cracking the wall underneath the window as Sasha leapt into the open air. 

She straightened her body out and dove straight down. Only one shot at this. She placed her fingers in her mouth and emitted a whistle. Within seconds, she felt the whoosh of Joe Sparrow swooping downwards and catching her on his back . Her gamble having paid off, Sasha took hold of the reins and dove yet again. She had no time to waste. 

Andrias was rendered unable to do anything but gawk in amazement as Anne, still on her hands and knees, grew brighter and brighter. In no time, the whole throne room was basking in the blue radiance. 

“What’s going on here, Marcy?!” Andrias turned to the girl, “She’s still connected to the stone!”

Marcy looked like she’d been violently brought down from her euphoric, power-drunk high. She stood agape at the otherworldly sight, stammering, “But t-t-that’s not possible!” 

The light emanating from Anne only grew more intense, prompting those around her to instinctively protect their eyes.

Hop Pop turned his head to Grime. “What’s going on?!”

“I don’t know!” Grime yelled, his one good eye squinting, “Maybe it’s a human thing!”

Everyone around the room witnessed the blue energy turned Anne’s hair a bright, sapphire hue. The collection of twigs and leaves that her curly, thick hair had accumulated over the course of five months transformed and grew, the sticks becoming sharp and looping at their tips. 

Marcy’s voice was filled with dread, “This is not a human thing…”

Raw power coursed through every inch of Anne’s being. She no longer felt as if all the weight of all her sorrow was bearing down on her. With newfound resolve, Anne straightened herself out and rose to her feet, fists balled and tears subsiding. 

Whatever lingered of Marcy’s glee and depraved joy from having dropped Sprig had all but evaporated. Fear had taken its place in the form of cold sweat dripping down her face. 

“ Give him back.”

The words, contorted and deep, came forth from Anne’s lips with absolute certainty. The very walls shook from the righteous fury laced into each and every syllable. Everyone, human or amphibian, felt the raw emotional pulse with each breath Anne took.

“Give. Him. BACK!”

Anne moved like the wind. Her feet stomped, electric charges crackling around her soles. Within the blink of an eye, the supercharged girl disappeared, leaving currents of energy in her wake that destroyed the two robots nearest to her. 

Andrias’ eyes darted around the room.

“Where’d she--”

He was cut off when a fist collided with the right side of his face. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the sight of Anne’s tears, a clenched fist raised in defiance against the tyrant. The tricorn crown was knocked clean from Andrias’ cranium and impacted the wall all the way on the other side of the room.

Everyone gasped at Anne’s display of power! What she had just done should have been light years beyond the capabilities of any normal human being. It just wasn’t possible. Anne flipped to the floor, landing gracefully in a flawless three point stance. Marcy had shaken herself from her own stupor. She stepped in front of the reeling king, knocked her crossbow with another arrow and fired without a second thought

Her eyes met Anne’s about an inch apart from one another. Marcy’s heart nearly leapt out of her chest. When she looked down, that reality might have come to fruition if she hadn’t been wearing an iron breastplate, because she saw that Anne had caught the launched arrow in her hand.

In one swift motion, Anne snapped the arrow in half and swung her other fist in a crescent wave. Her hard knuckles connected with Marcy’s signature weapon, forcing the girl to watch as it splintered to pieces right before her.

Before she could mourn her loss or register the searing pain rising up her arm, Anne, in the most polite way that she could given her present state, introduced Marcy’s face to her other fist. Blood vessels burst. Teeth audibly cracked. The force of the blow knocked Marcy backwards, tumbling head over heels across the floor.

Andrias, recovered from the initial cheap shot, clasped both hands together and brought them both down, crushing the floor where Anne stood. He opened them up, but was aghast when he saw that his prey had, once again, eluded him. Luminous leaves fell before his eyes. Glaring upwards, he spotted Anne perched on the ceiling like a bat.

He gritted his teeth and raised a blue finger in the air, showing his robots their target, “FIRE!”

Anne shot from her position at an inhuman speed. She twisted and turned like an expert gymnast, letting each and every ion ray blast pass effortlessly by her. The air swept against her skin as she corkscrewed into her descent.

With a primal scream of rage, she shot her fist out and aimed straight for Andrias’ mug. Her fist connected, but not with her enemy’s face. Andrias had raised his arm, a plasma shield materializing. Despite the newt king’s immense strength, the force behind Anne’s attack was already compromising his defenses. The raw power forced him to one knee. 

Bolts of electricity bounced off the shield, redirecting and destroying parts of the stone pillars that held the room up. The bits and chunks sprayed in all directions, forcing the others in the room to shield themselves from any debris.

Andrias resembled a writhing monster out of a child’s worst nightmare more than he ever did a king. He growled and roared from the deepest pit of his diaphragm. Saliva flew from his gaping mouth.

Anne’s power had a mind of its own. Charging the energy the gem gave her with everything that she had, she released her balled up fist, fanning her fingers and pushing down with her palm. The energy that spread forth destroyed the shield. The sheer force knocked Andrias backwards and unceremoniously headfirst into another pillar.

Anne hovered to the ground and, quite gracefully, landed on her feet. She saw Andrias’ head anchor backward as his breathing slowed. The air had been stripped bare from his lungs with brutality. He was bruised from head to toe, his armor cracked and frayed. 

Marcy, meanwhile, somehow hauled herself to her knees in spite of her pain and likely concussion. She felt the metallic taste of her own blood pool in her gums. Her cheek was already swelling up to the size of a goose egg. None of that could compare to the screaming soreness she felt in her right arm; the skin was quickly turning a blackish-purple from shoulder to fingertips. She counted herself lucky no bones had been snapped in half. 

Shaking the stars from her vision, she saw Anne standing over the king, that blue, haunting energy still burning bright. Fear returned in full force. Her addled brain couldn’t make heads or tails of what was happening. She had thought Anne had her power drained at the Second Temple, and yet, here she was, endued with the gem’s unrestrained might. Worse, she’d just effortlessly beaten the mightiest amphibian--Marcy’s protector--as if she’d smashed a toy.

Worse still, now her steely eyed gaze was fixed on her.   

“You.”

For the second time, Marcy froze, unable to move a muscle. She dared not to, for fear that she would have been vaporized like her trusty crossbow.

“A-Anne...” she stuttered, “I-I... I-“

“Give him back.” Anne’s words shook her frame, “Give him... back...”

Anne’s legs finally gave out from under her. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head as she tumbled to the ground. Her eyes and hair had both returned to their natural colour as the energy that had given her such enormous power seemed to be leaving her body. An audible thud echoed as Anne hit the floor. 

A dazed and confused Andrias clenched his teeth as he held his exposed shoulder. A giant ibuprofen wasn’t gonna do the trick. The hit he took against the pillar doubled his vision. The world around him wobbled as he tried to get to his feet.

“Looks like...” a ghost of a smirk spread across his face, “she can’t... control it.”

Andrias fell again, ears ringing, a high pitched whining sound reverberating inside his skull. Hop Pop and Polly raced to Anne’s side.

“Come on,” Hop Pop shook the girl desperately, “Get up, Anne!” The aged farmer had no way of beginning to explain what just happened, but he knew that didn’t matter right now. He had to find a way of getting all three of his grandkids out of there and fast.

“Anne!” 

Marcy’s heart jumped. That voice gave her pause. 

No , she thought, I got rid of him. I…I GOT RID OF HIM!

“ANNE!”

The pitter patter of soft footsteps and the frantic call of her name finally stirred Anne. When she caught the sight of the pink frog, she instantly perked up, her eyes wide with shock.

“Sprig?!” Anne was hit with the biggest hug she had ever received, “You’re alive! Thank goodness!” She wrapped her arms around Sprig, having never felt more relieved in her entire life. Her adoptive sister and grandfather joined in on the group embrace. They were never more happy to be together at that very moment.

It made Marcy sick.

“Sasha caught me just in time!” Sprig said, “Can you walk?”

“Sasha?” Anne asked.

A faint glint caught the corner of Marcy’s eye. The murderous hatred in her heart granted her the will to rise to her feet. 

The Plantars were too focused on one another and their shared relief of being reunited that they failed to notice the unstable teenager advancing upon them. It wasn’t until they heard the familiar ignition and glow of light that they looked up and saw the grizzled face of their former ally. 

“That’s it,” Marcy growled, “No more half-measures.”

She held her blade in front of her, casting her battered face in a ghoulish light, the shadows pulling and clawing at her features.

“I don’t need Andrias to kill you!”  

Marcy drank in the fear of the three pesky frogs who stole her friend from her. 

Then, the castle shook.

Marcy stumbled forward and caught herself with her one good arm, which caused her to drop the hilt. She looked over her shoulder and, to her horror, beheld Sasha kneeling in front of a portal! Its pulsating white light, tinged with the gem’s colours, cut through the throne room’s darkness. And in Sasha’s filthy hands?

The Box. 

Sasha looked back at them and laughed, “Copied your homework, Marcy! Just like old times, amiright?”

Sirens went off in Marcy’s head louder than ever before. Months of work-- her destiny --was going up in smoke before her very eyes, undone by the very ingrates to whom she’d literally given the world. 

There was no way she’d not allow this. She would not go back to her mediocre, suffocating life of school work and living on the bread line, this time without her only friends to lean on. Noone could make her go back. 

She’d die first!   

“NO!” she screamed, reaching out her hand just as Anne scrambled forward and grasped her by the arm.

“It’s over, Marcy!” she snarled, “We’re going home!”

Anne didn’t have ‘Marcy knows Judo’ on her bingo sheet, but she sure didn’t see it coming when the girl gripped her arm, launched her over her shoulder and slammed her on the ground as hard as possible. She coughed and wheezed in a scraggly tremor as she tried to catch her breath.

Marcy loomed over her, who held her bruised arm in excruciating pain. 

“I am home.”

For a fleeting microsecond, Anne swore she saw Marcy’s eyes turn blood red. She lunged forward in Sasha’s direction like a pouncing lioness.

“Oh no, you don’t!” Sprig grabbed and yanked at the hem of Marcy’s cape. The traitor felt the collar hitch back into her windpipe, making her gasp for air. Below her, Polly drop kicked her legs out from under her. Marcy’s chin hit the ground hard. She tasted fresh blood.

Sprig tugged hard and brought Marcy to up to her knees. She had no leverage from where she was held. Hop Pop was about to jump in, until Sprig held him off.

“Hop Pop, go! We’ve got this!” 

“We can do this!” Polly yelled. “Get Anne to the portal!”

Hop Pop saw his grandkids’ courage, and in that moment, could not be more proud of them. 

“Don’t worry,” Grime said, holding up his warhammer, “I’ll cover you guys!”

He helped the downed Anne to her feet and ran towards the portal in a fraught hurry.

Marcy gripped at her collar, wriggling it in every way to loosen it. Just as she was about to set herself free from the pink frog’s grasp, she felt what seemed like a brick hit her dead in the stomach. Her breastplate took the brunt of the impact as the previous crack now expanded into a full-blown crater, exposing her midsection and the tattered school uniform underneath the metal. 

“Those are your grandkids, right?” Grime observed, to which Hop Pop turned to the toad.

“Yes, they are!” Hop Pop had never said anything so proudly.

“Remind me never to cross them.”

Polly withdrew her spiked ball and chain from Marcy’s midsection as Sprig tossed his end of the cape over Marcy’s head and into his sister’s stubs. She pulled the cape tight as Sprig handspringed over Marcy, landing in front of her. Both siblings tugged the cape as hard as they could. 

Sprig turned to her, “On three, we finish her!” 

“With gusto!”

“One…”

Marcy clawed at the cape that pressed into her sinuses. Her nose stretched out the fine fabric and she started chewing away at the cape’s lining.

“Two…”

Marcy managed to tear a small hole into the cape and reach up with her deft hands.

“Thr--”

Sprig never finished his count. Marcy tore open her cape, and on the other side were a pair of bulging, bloodshot, ruby red eyes, the worst bruised and scratched face the two amphibians had ever seen, and blood dripping from the unsightly maw of one mad, mad, mad Marcy Wu!

Sprig and Polly screamed in fright before Marcy grabbed the cape with both hands. She effortlessly ripped it in half and, with Sprig and Polly holding on for dear life, spun around and tossed them like the world’s best Olympic hammer thrower.

They flew through the air and landed right on top of poor Hop Pop. The Plantars now lay in a bungled heap at Anne’s feet. 

“Guys!” Anne scooped them up and carried them over to the portal. She held onto them for dear life, like a mother would her children. There was no way she could leave them here to Andrias’s mercy.

Marcy clawed the floor, her nail beds beginning to bleed as she raked them over the stones. At this point, the pain was a mild inconvenience. Steadying herself on all fours, she sprinted towards the portal. More specifically, she had Sasha dead in her sights. 

Sasha was still messing with the Box while Anne and the Plantars had stepped into the portal, none of them going any further until she was done.

“Sasha, hurry!” Anne called back. 

“I just need to--”

“GIVE ME THE BOX!!!”

Marcy pounced onto Sasha’s back like a ferocious wild animal. She dug her bloodied, ruined nails into her cheeks.  Sasha stumbled backwards away from the portal, screaming and thrashing. Trails of blood flowed down her face, both Marcy’s and her own. She shot her elbow backwards and cracked Marcy’s nose. Blood began flowing freely from her nostrils as it took an extra two hits to break her attacker’s grip and throw her off her back

“Sasha!” Anne cried. She fought hard against the force of the portal’s horizon to step out. Sasha couldn’t fight her off alone.

“Stay there, Anne!” she ordered as Marcy lunged at her again, the blonde sprawling as she locked her in a guillotine choke.

“But--”

“END! OF! DISCUSSION!” 

Anne stopped dead in her tracks. Those words. Those three, Frog-forsaken words. She was haunted by them. Yet, in this moment, she knew they came not from a place of manipulation, but genuine protection. They were five-years-old in the playground once again.

Sasha’s lapse in concentration gave Marcy the opportunity to grab both her legs and take her down. Mounting her, Marcy went straight for Sasha’s throat and applied as much pressure as she could, doing everything in her power to choke the life out of the blonde to whom she’d spent far too many years playing second fiddle for Anne’s attention. That all ended today. 

“I’m going to enjoy every second of this!” Marcy’s split faced grin was a terrifying sight to behold, until she was bashed upside the head with the Box.

Her bell rang, Marcy loosened her grip as Sasha continuously hammered her with the metallic Box. It took nearly a dozen strikes before Marcy fell off of Sasha. Rolling to her feet, Marcy lunged at her again, her hand reaching out. Sasha reeled back and whacked Marcy underneath the chin, sending her flying.

Landing quite undignified on her rump, Marcy’s head bobbled so much everyone feared for a grime second or two that it would fall clean off her shoulders.. Instead, she spewed a torrent of blood-mixed saliva onto the floor, and with it, two of her back molars. She stumbled to a knee, giggling, her gait unsteady like a rabid raccoon. 

“You’re, heheheh... you’re lucky my parents know a good dentist!”

On the other side of the room, she saw Andrias finally make it to his feet, his own stance wobbled by so many shots to the head. Perfect timing. Grime noticed the monarch get to his giant feet, and rushed him, turning his head back to Anne and the Plantars.

“I’ll worry about Andrias!” he yelled, “Stay by the portal!”

Andrias stumbled about, but even in his drunken-like daze, he could see a certain one-eyed toad running directly at him, a war cry undulating through the air. The toad captain did not care if he had to lay down his life right here. If it was in protection of those he cared about, it would be worth the sacrifice.

Marcy returned her glare towards Sasha and flexed her jacked-up nails like a cat unleashing its claws. Flashing a literally crooked smile, she sneered.

“I can… I can do this all day.” 

Sasha’s shoulders slumped. A look of resignation washed over her face. She did not want it to have to come to this. She set the Calamity Box down gently by her feet

With a heavy heart, and even heavier footsteps, she ran at Marcy. Her mind fought hard to repress all the memories she shared with her growing up. As she closed the distance between herself and Marcy, she steeled herself, prepared to do the unthinkable. Sasha reached behind her and pulled out her dagger.

She only hoped Marcy’s parents could forgive her.

Across the room, Andrias clumsily swung his sword at the charging Grime, who forward shoulder rolled to avoid the slash. He struck the tyrant in the elbow with his hammer, eliciting a gasp of pain as the steel met the bare bone joint. He then swung to his right, bringing the hammer down on Andrias’ knee.

Held in a backhand grip, Sasha mentally steeled herself for what would be the hardest task of her young life. She was about to put down her best friend. Sasha had hoped with all of her heart that something like this would never come to pass. She hoped that Anne would find some way to talk their way out of this whole mess. She hoped that Marcy would come to her senses and come down from the clouds that she had her head in.

The bleeding and bruised girl in front of her, swaying back and forth like a punch-drunk boxer, unfortunately said otherwise. 

Sasha finally closed the distance and took what she hoped would be the sole swing of her blade that would end this nightmare once and for all. Just as she was about to end it, Marcy suddenly dropped to one knee and Sasha swiped nothing but air.

KRSCHTTTTTT!

It took a second for Sasha to register what had just happened before a white-hot surgeshot through her leg. Her brain was enveloped in a torrent of unimaginable agony as her mind threatened to implode in on itself. When Sasha finally realized what just happened, she unleashed the most bloodcurdling scream imaginable.

Sasha couldn’t even hear Anne’s cry of shock and anguish. She very nearly lost her voice stretching her vocal chords to their absolute limit. 

A sick smile, teeth bared wide for her enemies to take in, was all Marcy was able to offer and she had plunged her light sword right through Sasha’s leg. The extremely high temperature of the blade instantly cauterized the wound, but the incredible heat was enough to make it feel like Sasha’s leg was being injected with pure hot magma straight from a volcano. With little regard to her bodily safety, Marcy ripped her sword clean from Sasha’s limb, took her with both hands, and carelessly heaved her out of the way.

“SASHA!” Grime screamed, directing his attention away from combat amidst the sight of his compatriot, his friend, going down in a seizing fit of pain. The momentary distraction provided Andrias, double vision and all, with an opening to swipe Grime away with his tail, sending him flying into a pillar!

Sasha clutched at her wound, writhing and screaming like a mortally wounded animal. Marcy paid her little regard beyond a reprimanding tut-tut. She’d much bigger fish to fry, or rather, frogs. She spun on her heels and skipped over to the spot where Sasha had placed the Box. She snatched it up and held it greedily close to her chest. 

“No...” Anne whimpered.

Marcy savoured the moment. She caressed the Box, her birthright, allowing her bloodied fingers to trace the outlines of the intricate designs that decorated the exterior. The power that radidated from it was intoxicating. This must have only been a fraction of what her ancestors felt.

She started pressing the gems in the correct order that would shut down the portal. Regarding the horror stricken human and frogs with a deranged, bloodied cheshire cat grin that stretched from ear to ear, Marcy rocked her head back and forth. An inhuman giggling fit shook her rib cage.

“You’re not going anywhere...”

Sasha gritted her teeth through the agony and the sweat as she somehow fathomed the strength to get on one knee. A lesser human would’ve stayed down, but she was Sasha Waybright. It was gonna take a whole lot more than a whack-a-doodle like Marcy at her flashy toys to finish her. 

Moments ago, the idea of killing Marcy filled her with dread. Now, the one thing driving her was the chance to snap her scrawny little neck! 

Just as she’d found her dagger to carry out the deed, she noticed a familiar shadow come over her. Before she had time to turn around, Anne screamed after her.

“SASHA! LOOK OUT!”

Acting instinctively, Sasha channeled whatever energy she had left to roll herself out of the way!

VRSCHTTTTT!

Gasps of shock and awe rung out. Anne and the Plantars, still inside the portal, hung their jaws. Sasha looked up from where she’d stopped and felt her blood turn cold and her bloodlust wither away, replaced by a dawning horror. 

Andrias’ vision finally evened out, and as he stood there, lunged forward with his sword, he realized what he had just done.

Marcy stood there petrified. Her bugged out eyes gazed vacantly into space. She looked down, but she had already felt it happen. The tip of Andrias’ light sword jutted out of her chest cavity. The hot plasma cut through her body like a knife through butter.

She didn’t scream. She didn’t even appear to be in any kind of pain. She just looked… stunned.

Even Andrias appeared genuinely shocked.

“… oops.” It was all he could muster.

In spite of everything she had done, Anne could not help but go slack jawed at the sight of her friend.

“M-Marcy…”

A groan emanated from Marcy’s throat. A miserable, self-pitying frown replaced her look of shock. She was able to force herself to croak out what might have been her last words.

“I… hate you.”

Those three venom-laced words were all Marcy had to say before she felt herself crumple and darkness envelop her. The Box fell to the floor and popped open, engulfing the entire throne room in a blinding white light. 

And in that flash, Marcy, Sasha, and all of Amphibia were no more.

---

Anne was floating in a void. Her body felt untethered and free. As the heavenly light swirled around her, for the first time in what seemed like forever, she felt at peace. For once, did not care about what happened next. If she could stay in this place forever, she would not mind at all. 

Then, the blaring sounds of car horns! 

Her arms felt the rusted, paint-chipped metal. Her nostrils instinctively crinkled at the stench of the noxious air around them, tainted by gasoline fumes. Her eyes fluttered open, and her senses were assaulted by a wide array of things.

The sun and the sky were as clear as ever. There was not a cloud to be seen. For the first time in five months, Anne had not seen any killer birds or flying insects swooping around and trying to eat her alive. Her eyes swivelled, and she saw that the Plantars were all next to her. In that moment, she gave thanks to whatever higher authority might have existed, thankful to have her family right beside her.

Speaking of her family, the Plantar themselves began to stir just as Anne was. Unlike Anne, the sights they were taking in were for the very first time. They could not comprehend the world that they were seeing around them. They all sat up and craned their heads around to take in, well, just about everything. 

Anne finally realised that they were sitting on the hood of a car, surrounded on all sides by bumper-to-bumper traffic. They turned around and were greeted by the amazed reactions of a couple and their child. One of them snapped a picture of the peculiar sight that had miraculously appeared in front of them.

“What the…” Polly clutched Anne’s backpack that had Frobo’s head inside.

“Oh my frog!” Sprig exclaimed, mouth agape.

“What is this place?” asked a bewildered Hop Pop.

Anne herself couldn’t believe what she was about to say.

“Home.”

Notes:

And scene! That's a wrap on all things True Colours, folks! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!

So, time to explain what the hell is going on with Season 3.

MagicMan and I have been discussing, at length, the ideas of what we are going to do for subsequent chapters. What we plan on doing is writing out chapters that deal directly with the divergence that is playing out as a result of Marcy's corruption. We might allude to events and episodes in the show, but we will not be going through them beat by beat and changing dialogue to fit with our point of divergence like we did with True Colors.

Because of this, it might take us a bit longer to write out and edit chapters, as we are now coming up with new material, so please bare with us. Plus, we've cranked out three fairly long chapters in a matter of weeks, so we've left you with plenty to reread while you wait.

Furthermore, we feel that it is best to wait until the midseason finale, Froggy Little Christmas, in two weeks, at the very least, before we even start writing new chapters. This is because we do not want to get too far ahead of canon, only to have some of our ideas that we implement become contradicted or outdated by the canon. With some key revelations that were revealed in "Olivia and Yunaan," MagicMan and I are already having to slightly alter our some original plans, so we don't want this to happen on a wider scale.

On an unrelated note, does any know of any Amphibia fan artists that we can commission? MagicMan and I had some ideas we wanted to see put to paper, so if you know anyone, gives us a shout!

And as always, reviews and constructive criticism are always welcome, and we will see you all in the next chapter!

This is TheAllTimeGreatest signing off!

Chapter 8

Summary:

Marcy wakes up in an unknown world, meets an otherworldly guide, and begins the process of rehabilitation. Anne's return home is anything but normal, and the weight of her experiences bears down upon her.

Notes:

Well, that was a fun little "hiatus," was it not?

I'm glad to be back with you guys, especially after the conclusion of the first half of the third season! I honestly do not know what is going to happen next, but I'm ready for it regardless! Anyway, we've got a story to get back to!

We now return to our regularly scheduled programming.

Darkness. Unending, unyielding darkness.

It’s all that Marcy saw; or rather, all she could comprehend. Her pupils shifted around her closed eyelids. Her fingers twitched. She felt as though she were floating in thin air, the endless void swirling around her. It was as if she were in a deprivation tank, and all sensory feeling had been stripped away from her. 

She wasn’t scared though. If anything, she felt at ease, at peace, with wherever she happened to be in the very moment.

One by one, her senses trickled back to her. She now felt a moistness underneath her. Her hands lazily traced the area around her, and she felt as if she was stroking the surface of a calm, waveless lake. She rocked her head back to the side as her nostrils tickled with the scent of fresh air.

Then, almost inevitably, it hit her.

Suddenly, her mind was assaulted with the last thing that she could remember. The sharp, burning pain of pure, hot light embedded in the center of her chest, as if someone had plunged a syringe with the hottest acid into her heart and injected it without nary a second thought. Standing frozen in time, her bruised and beaten face, throbbing in pain and seeping blood, as her grip on her birthright slipped away from her hands, rolling off her fingertips and clattering to the floor, along with the husking mass of anger and vitriol that was her own frail body.

Marcy bolted upright, a gasp leaving the darkest depths of her throat in the most raggled, choked-up way imaginable. She clawed her nails at her chest, seeking the mortal wound that had brought her down. When her calloused, rugged fingers grasped nothing but the soft, tender fabric of a sweatshirt, she looked down. She took in the sight before her.

She was indeed sitting, waist-deep, in the middle of a shallow lake. She no longer had on the destroyed tatters of what remained of both her armor and her cloak. Rather, she was wearing a hooded sweatshirt, bearing the crest of Saint James Middle School. Gone was her destroyed breastplate. She noticed that she had on the same green skirt that she wore the day she was transported to Amphibia, along with the brown dress shoes  she loathed, but her parents made her wear every single day.

Her vision leveled out, and for the first time, she was able to fully take in the landscape around her. While the lake was shallow, it was vast and wide. A quick glance up to the sky yielded purple and dark red colors, with blotches of translucent stars peppered around. It seemed almost ethereal, as if it were too good to be true. On the horizon, Marcy noticed purple mountains. It brought back memories of learning “America the Beautiful” in first grade, where Marcy innocently wondered how mountains could be the color purple. Well, she got her answer in the weirdest way possible.

She reflexively felt around her torso and face, but felt nothing but smooth, unblemished skin. A quick look at her reflection in the water yielded the same image. It was as if she had not left Earth at all.

“Marcy.”

 Marcy’s head snapped up. She craned her head all around her. The feminine voice rang out from nowhere, but Marcy still, in vain, tried to locate who said her name.

“Marcy.”

There it was again. Marcy scrambled to her feet, not even registering the fact that her lower body and back were sopping wet. She shuffled around and tried to figure out where the voice was coming from.

“Don’t be afraid.”

“W-Who’s there?” Marcy held her hands up defensively. Months of living in Newtopia and engaging with all sorts of threats had left her always keeping herself on her toes and watching out.

“You don’t recognize my voice?”

Her heart skipped a beat. She remembered now. The day they met, when she stared into its thirteen eyes, she swore she had never laid her eyes on something so beautiful, so misunderstood. It was in that moment where her life, her destiny, had changed forever. 

“... It’s you,” Marcy registered in a whisper, “Where are you?”

A small ball of light began to materialize in front of her, and Marcy was rendered only able to stare as features slowly began to take shape.

She wore a regal dress, void of color as the light bleached any hue. It reminded Marcy suspiciously of Lady Olivia’s dress, except its wearer was distinctly not Amphibian, but human. She was asian, just like her, and absolutely beautiful, with luscious raven flaws flowing down to her shoulders.  

“Is…” she stuttered, “Is this... your true form?” 

“No, Marcy,” she smiled, a giggle shaking her bosom, “It is merely one that puts you at ease, whatever makes you happy. Given recent events, it would seem like you need that.”

With those words, the memories, once again, flooded back to Marcy. Her entire form trembled with a swelling mix of anger and sorrow. She sank to her knees, the water splashing around her as she buried her hands in the mud at the bottom of the lake bed, submerging her wrists. Self-loathing rose in the back of her throat like bile as she tried and failed to stop herself from sobbing uncontrollably at the thought of her friends turning their backs on her, turning their backs on their destiny.  

She felt her soft, warm hands on her shoulders. She looked up and met the pure gaze of this woman, who looked down at Marcy with a warmth that the latter had not felt in the longest time.

“It’s ok, little one,” she said, gathering the young girl’s face in her hands and wiping away her tears, “It’s ok to grieve. It is important that you process your emotions.” 

Marcy hung her head. She felt ashamed to be crying like a little girl in the presence of a higher being. She felt herself unworthy of being on the same level as it. 

“Please stand, Marcy.”

As if she were obeying a direct order, Marcy gathered herself and stood on her feet, taking the woman’s hands in her own. 

“So,” she started, looking around, “Where are we?”

“We,” the woman laid a hand on her shoulder and gestured to the landscape around her, “are in your subconscious.”

“B-but,” Marcy was confused for sure, “how?”

The woman turned away from her and clasped her hands behind her lower back, taking a few steps away, “When Andrias ran you through, he realized the gravity of his mistake. He took drastic measures to ensure your survival, including placing you in a revitalization tank to make sure you recovered fully.” 

“Wait…” Marcy unconsciously placed her hand over her heart, “He stabbed me right through the…how...” It took her long enough to put two and two together. “How am I not dead?!!”   

The woman looked back and gleaned a soft smile at her. It was one that made Marcy feel safe and secure, despite the obvious eerie nature of this spirit, “Dear child, there is much you have to learn about the true capabilities of Amphibia. The capabilities that your ancestors bestowed.”

Marcy’s lips parted, and she caressed her knuckles with her hand. She had difficulty looking the woman in the eye as she recalled the pictures of her ancestors’ conquests. The pictures that had led her to this point. She could only imagine that they would laugh at her predicament and her failure if they were alive to see her now. 

These ruminations were interrupted when the woman began walking gracefully out of the lake.

“Come,” She extended a hand towards Marcy, “Follow me.”

Marcy was hesitant, but slowly reached out and took her hand. She looked around and saw how vast the lake that she was standing in was. It stretched for miles on end in every direction, disappearing into the horizon and into the sky. She surmised that it would take them hours to get anywhere. Nevertheless, she followed the woman as she allowed herself to be led like a horse to water. Marcy was slightly annoyed by the fact that she was taking her sweet time. It reminded her of how Olivia daintily strode through the castle.

Then, suddenly, the sky and the mountains on the horizon began to bend and shift. The sky began to fold in on itself. Marcy did not even have time to ask what was happening before she felt a wave of force guide her body forward. The woman in front of her seemed to contort with the surroundings as she shimmered with a dazzling light that nearly blinded Marcy. The young girl felt as if she was going through a time warp, like she was making the jump to hyperspace.

And then, before she knew it, it was over.

She shifted her feet underneath her, but instead of feeling the murky, soggy mud filling her shoes, she felt the rough, coarse gravel as she scraped her soles along the ground. The woman had let go of her hand and materialized in front of her, as if she had not changed at all, and it did not seem that she was affected by what just happened. The surroundings also seemed to settle and set back into their original place. A quick look around, and Marcy noticed that she was nowhere even remotely near the lake. 

Surrounding her on all sides were long, stretching hogbacks. They cascaded into the sky like the grandest skyscrapers, and like some of the most graceful towers in Newtopia, Marcy had noted. They reached out into the distance and disappeared into the fog on the far reaches of the horizon. In between the two mountain ranges was a vast chasm that went for miles. However, light was able to filter into the space, illuminating the darkness and allowing Marcy to take in the lush vegetation. It reminded her of one of her first days in Newtopia, where Marcy was taken out to a balcony by Olivia, who showed her the beautiful flora and fauna just outside the city walls. 

She could only gape in awe, “Whoa…” 

The woman folded her hands and smiled at the genuine wonder that Marcy had plastered all over her face. She watched as the girl looked all around her, taking in the vastness of the landscape.

“What I would give to have my journal with me right now.” Marcy looked down and noticed that she was now completely dry, and she turned to the woman, “How… how did you do that?”

“Marcy, dear Marcy,” she laughed, “This is the subconscious, the center of one’s mind. Here, anything is possible.”

As if to demonstrate, the woman raised her hand up to the sky and twisted it slowly. As she did, the colors of the sky changed. Purples turned to reds and oranges, dark clouds turned a shade of scarlet. The changing landscape reminded Marcy of the most beautiful sunset, the ones that she would take advantage of to fly Joe around the city.

“That’s so cool!” Marcy whispered, mouth agape in an almost comical way, “Then, why can’t I do that?”

“Such control takes time, dear, which is why I am here. Allow me to formally introduce myself. Andrias might have shown you who I am on the outside, but it does not even begin to scratch the surface. I am much more than just a guide for you, Or rather, we are.”

“We…?” 

“We are a collective,” The woman said, only this time, her voice was drastically different. It sounded warped and distorted, as if it were the voices of hundreds of other individuals all at once. Frankly, it scared Marcy a bit, even if it did remind her of a cartoon she watched as a kid.

“We are pure intellect, consisting of the greatest minds Amphibia has had to offer throughout the entirety of its existence. We are scientists, doctors, philosophers, warriors, conquerors, rulers.”

The sky began to change again as it grew darker and darker. Then, thirteen clouds gathered in the air. They drifted closer and closer to one another, arranging themselves in a pattern that Marcy instantly recognized. She had laid her own eyes upon them when Andrias showed her who she really was. The clouds turned dark orange.

“We are the Core.”

Marcy shuddered as the air around her became heavy. Fearfully, she stumbled backwards and landed most uncouthly on her posterior. The woman stepped forward and reached out to Marcy as thunder and lightning gathered in the clouds above her, the thirteen orange eyes boring straight into her soul. Marcy clenched her eyes shut tight and prepared for the worst. She could only hope the end was not painful.

A soft hand on her shoulder, and she opened her eyes.

She was met with the same colored sky as she was when she woke up, the purple and dark red returning, the translucent stars dotting all around. She looked up and saw the woman with a warm smile. 

“Now you see why I took the form that I did. Pretty sure you would have been freaked out if I started things with all thirteen eyes.”

The woman actually giggled and helped Marcy up to her feet yet again. The casual demeanor that she exuded so suddenly was actually enough to produce a genuine laugh from Marcy for the first time in ages.

“So, let me see if I have this right,” Marcy started, “You’re here to guide me?”

“That’s correct.”

“Okay, but... guide me through what exactly?”

Folding her hands, the woman resumed a more serious, albeit empathetic tone, “Marcy, your recovery is more than just physical. Cuts, scraps, and scratches heal with time, but that which is psychological? Those are problems that only get worse if we do not address them.”

Marcy’s eyes narrowed as she dropped her hands to her sides, “I…I don’t have any problems.”

“Your heart would say otherwise.”

The woman’s smooth, soft palm touched the center of Marcy’s chest. A dim light resonated from her hand. Marcy could not even protest her actions, for she found herself suddenly overcome with a blinding anger. Rage and fury coursed through her veins like a churning river current. Her blood boiled. Her nails dug into her palms and she screwed her eyes shut 

‘You’re evil!’

Those two words that came forth from Anne’s lips. They destroyed her. They ruined her. They gave way to the monster they’d made her out to be. She hated how it made her feel. She hated herself for feeling such weakness.

She hated Anne. She said so with what she thought was her dying breath.

Taking note of the change in Marcy’s behavior, the woman removed her hand from her heart, the light evaporating, and took her hands instead. Marcy allowed herself to loosen her balled up fists. 

“I just…” her voice quavered, “I didn’t want to be alone.”

“I know, Marcy.”

“I hate them. I hate them all.”

“I know, which is why I’m here.”

Marcy opened her eyes and blinked back tears. The maternal smile she was greeted with made her feel safer.

“I am here to help you turn the hate that you have, the fears that you harbor, the doubts that make you hesitate, into a force that will drive you forward,” The woman took her gently under the chin “So many people have hurt you, Marcy.”

Marcy nodded, “I know.”

“And once we are done, we will make sure that they never hurt you ever again.”

Just like that, the smile on the woman’s face took on a much more sinister appearance. The corners of her mouth curled in a very strange way. It would have unnerved any normal person who laid mortal eyes on it.

Marcy, however, was not a normal person. The girl flashed her own smile.

“When do we start?”

---

Anne flopped down onto her mattress, groaning with tired weariness as she let herself sink into the soft cotton fibers. Her chest receded into her diaphragm, and rose steadily as Anne let out a great exhale. She relaxed her muscles and let her head drift to the side. 

To say that it had been a rough few days would have been her entry for ‘Understatement of the Millenium’.

Reuniting with her parents had proven to be just as  emotional and celebratory an occasion as she had imagined. She could still feel the warmth of her mother’s embrace, the soft fabric of her lavender sweater caressing her as she held her close. She could still recall her father rushing forth and joining in on the group hug, and she could remember being brought to tears upon lifting Domino and bringing her to her cheek for a big embrace.

And then, the dang frogs just had to go and fall out of the trash cans!

What originally had been her plan to ease her parents into her current situation slowly had been thrown out the window and she was left no choice but to haphazardly throw everything she could at them in the span of a couple hours. Well, almost everything. There were a lot of details neither her parents needed to know for the time being, for their own mental health’s sake. 

To make matters worse, all of them were put on “lockdown” for the first few days, and she had no space whatsoever. She only wished she was exaggerating.

Her mother was there every time Anne looked up. She even caught her starting to comb her hair in the middle of the night, which Anne could only shrug off with an awkward chuckle. A part of Anne couldn’t blame her mom for being so clingy. She wasn’t ready to even think about what she must have been going through in the five months she was missing.

And that wasn’t even the worst of it.

When they were finally let out of the house to help Anne’s parents shop for groceries, they were attacked by a cloaking robot ( Cloakbot? Anne had thought to herself), and they did everything in their power to make sure that it was not seen by Anne’s parents. They did not need to know anything about how Andrias had essentially placed them on his hit list. It was no wonder that Anne felt completely drained. That, and using her “weird blue powers,” as she had dubbed them, had left her out of it. Something about using them just felt... “bad”. A bit of a reductive way to put it, but it was the only way Anne could describe the way they made her feel.

Mrs Boonchuy had taken the mackerel they’d purchased and started preparing it for dinner, so Anne knew she couldn’t  go to bed just yet. What she desperately needed, though, was some rest.

She curled herself up into a ball on top of her duvet and tucked her pillow up to her chin. Domino took up residence against the small of her back, serving as her furry, vibrating hot water bottle. 

Just as the pull of drifting off to sleep became too much to resist, the sound of her bedroom door swinging open rang in her ears. followed by the intrusive light of the hallway pouring inside. Through her blurry vision, she made out the tiny yet unmistakable pink form of Sprig entering the threshold. “HEY ANNE!”

Anne buried her face in her pillow. “Sprig...” she mumbled, “what’d we discuss about indoor voices again?”

“That it’s only okay to yell when soccer’s on?”

She gave him a thumbs up.

“Sorry, heh,” Sprig chuckled, then noticed just how haggard she appeared. He approached the foot of her bed, “You okay? Your mom wanted me to let you know dinner’s nearly ready.”

“Yeah...” Anne begrudgingly uncurled from her spot and stretched her back, producing a few loud pops , “It’s just been a looooo--ohgoshfeltthatone!--looong couple of days.” She ran her fingers through Domino’s back as the rudely awoken cat slid past her on her way to the door, “First I can’t get any privacy, then when I finally get to go outside, we get attacked by some crazy Cloackbot!”

“Uh, Cloakbot?” Sprig tilted his head.

“Well, it’s better than calling it ‘Evil Frobo!”” 

“I mean, technically, our Frobo’s the only one that’s not evil.”

Anne used every bit of strength and energy to pull herself to her feet. She knew Sprig was right to walk in before she ended up dozing off right before dinner, lest she wanted a chewing out from her mother like last time.

She took all of one step before she found herself face-first on the carpet Anne simply groaned while Sprig winced.

“You alright down there, Anne?”

“Ugggh,” she whined, “I’m good. The heck did I trip on?”

Anne turned and discovered the source of her bruising cheek protruding slightly from underneath her bed. She reached for it and pulled it out from underneath her bed. 

A muted gasp escaped her throat.

It was a red and silver tennis racket. Sleek and light in weight. She felt the fine material along the edges, and thumbed the net. 

Before she had any idea what hit her, Anne’s heart had sunk to her stomach, and she already felt the tears well up in her eyes.

A deeply worried Sprig walked over to her and put his hand on her shoulder. 

“Anne...?”

Anne, Sasha, and Marcy sat around the gorgeously decorated Christmas tree in the Boonchuy’s living room It was the week before Christmas and all three girls, along with their parents and other family friends had all come together for a party to celebrate the festive season. Gifts were being exchanged, laughter shared, company enjoyed and the delicious Thai cuisine Anne’s mother had prepared was being gobbled up fast.  The three girls were rapt with attention as they gave each other the gifts they spent weeks picking out for one another. Marcy practically squealed with glee as she opened her gift and saw that Sasha had gotten her the expansion pack for her favorite online fantasy MMORPG: World of Combat. After coming down from the high of her own excitement, Marcy pulled her hastily wrapped gift from her backpack and handed it to Anne.

“Merry Christmas, Anne!” Marcy’s smile had practically threatened to split her face in half.

“Thanks, Mar-Mar!” Anne reached forward when she noticed the scratches, slightly broken nails, and pucker marks from tape on her hands, “Whoa, Marcy. What happened to you?”

“You've been feeding the alley cats again?” Sasha quipped, having long noticed the state of her hands and sitting on that remark for a while now. 

“Nooooo!” Marcy drew out overdramatically, prompting Sasha to giggle, “I just stink at gift wrapping! I broke, like, three nails trying to tape this baby up!”

Anne saw how some of the wrapping paper had been layered onto a square, medium-sized box in a wondrous display of slapdashery. There was tape in places where tape shouldn’t be, as well as too much tape over the corners of the box. Some wrapping paper hung loose in some places.

“Marcy,” Sasha began, shaking her head, “you’re the only person I know capable of breaking nails gift wrapping.” 

“Hey, it was harder than it looked!” Marcy playfully pouted, crossing her arms, to which Sasha just laughed and poked her cheek with her index fingers, prompting the clumsy geek to giggle again.

“It’s the thought that counts, Marcy. Thank you.” Anne said, placing a hand over Marcy’s. 

“Well,” Marcy motioned to the gift, “Aren’t you gonna open it?”

“Oh, right!” Anne laughed, having zoned out for a second amidst teasing her best friend. She grasped and tore at the wrapping paper, while Sasha noticed out of the corner of her eye the practically giddy look on her face. She was basically bouncing on her posterior. It did not take much effort on Anne’s part to open the thing, but when she peeled back the last few remnants of paper, and she could finally make out what it was underneath, she gasped.

It was a Nelson-brand tennis racket, decked out in a fine red and silver paint. The letter “N”, the initial of the company’s founder, was emblazoned on the net. There was a soft cushion handgrip on the handle of the racket, with grooves poking out for improved handling. Anne’s mouth hung wide open, and even Sasha could not help but be amazed.

“Is that…?” Sasha began, but Marcy, in all her excitement, couldn’t keep her mouth shut any longer.

“Yesyesyes!” Marcy bounced with joy, “I know you’ve been begging your mom for it for a year and all, and I know she said it was too expensive, but I didn’t want you to be down in the dumps and all for Christmas. So I took a bunch of odd jobs for the past few months, which is also why I’ve been really busy lately and…”

Marcy continued to ramble in her trademark Marbles way, but Anne could only be lost in a trance of pure amazement as she stared down at her gift. She had first seen the racket in the window of a sporting goods store at the mall, and she knew that she had to have it. Her mom said that it was too expensive, and she had to settle for a used pink one. It wasn’t bad or anything, and it got the job done, but she really wanted the Nelson. She had hoped her mom would come to her senses for her 12th birthday, but it wasn’t meant to be. Despite getting all the gifts she asked for from her friends and family, the tennis racket she yearned for was the only thing that wasn’t there.

And now, here it was, sitting in her hands.

“...I know I’ve been kinda distant the last few months, but I was really working hard to try and get this for you, Anna-Banana! Sooooo...do you like it?”

Anne finally looked up, and with tears brimming, she launched forward and wrapped Marcy in a big hug! She squeezed the girl tight as the tears rolled down her cheeks.

“I love it!” Anne cried, as Marcy hugged her back. A blush appeared on Marcy’s face, “I love it so much! Thank you!”

The two were lost in their own perfect world, tuning out everything around them, like Mrs. Boonchuy asking why Anne was crying, to her husband pointing to the gift she had just received, her mom receiving the hint. The Wu’s, sitting on the couch with a cup of alcohol-infused eggnog in their hands, could not help but be proud of their daughter for doing such a wonderful thing for her friend. Even Sasha’s mother, when she wasn’t buried in her phone for any and all work-related issues, looked taken by surprise when she witnessed the girls having their moment.

Anne and Marcy continued to hold on to one another, until they felt an extra pair of hands wrap around them. Sasha had crawled over to the two and joined the hug.

“Hey, don’t leave me out of this.” Sasha smiled, to which Anne, wanting to share her joy, pulled Sasha towards her and Marcy. They squished into one another in a big, gooey, mushy hug. It took Marcy a second before she wrapped her arms around Sasha. Her eyes could not help but rove towards the blonde.

A tinge of jealousy lit inside her heart.

She did not even realize that the tears came cascading down her cheeks like twin waterfalls, nor how her whole body began trembling or her breath turning short and ragged.. She was utterly blind to Sprig wrapping his tiny arms around her midsection, burying his cheek into the space between her shoulder blades. He did not know why Anne suddenly started crying, but he did not care. He couldn’t stand to see her cry.

“It was from Marcy...” 

That was all that needed to be said. Sprig allowed Anne to grieve. He didn’t even pepper her with a million questions like he usually would. All he cared about was being there for Anne, as she had been for him. Anne’s sobs of pain and grief became softer as the minutes passed by. She just laid there, kneeling at the foot of her bed, Sprig still hugging her and making sure she was alright.

Then, it was as if a voice spoke to her.

Liar.

She softly gasped.

Liar.

It was like a faint whisper in her ears, like one would hear from a little girl dawdling innocently in the playground.

Liar!

Anne’s raggled hyperventilating picked up. Her chest began to raise and lower haphazardly and unevenly, in beats. She clutched her chest as she tried to catch her breath.

Liar!

She stared down at her shaking hands. She tried to grip them tightly in order to get them to stop, but no matter how fast she held onto them, they would not keep still. Her knuckles turned red, then white, she was gripping so tightly. 

LIAR!

She bit down on her bottom lip, shaking her head furiously. Her tears refused to subside and were nowpumping out in streams of fury, blotching Anne’s cheeks and saturating the skin.

LIAR!

She did not even bother to look up, because she would have noticed Sprig jumping in front of her, taking her by the shoulders and trying to break her from whatever trance she was in. She did not even react to Sprig starting to shake her, and his cracking voice shouting her name.

LIAR! LIAR! LIAR! LIAR! LIAR!

Anne growled, snapped her eyes open, and the slightest shade of blue reappeared in her pupils.

“YOU LIAR!” Anne screamed , and in one swift motion, chucked the tennis racket across the room with unbridled fury. It hit the sliding wooden door of her closet, taking off a few pieces of the blinders. The racket clattered to the floor. Surprisingly enough, it was barely damaged. That’s what you get for a tennis racket worth over $400.

Anne’s breathing only now started to slow and she caught herself on her hands, with Sprig keeping her head upright.

“Anne!” cried Sprig, “Anne!”

The girl looked deep into her best friend’s eyes, and pulled him close to her. The two stayed close to one another until they heard the heavy, panicked footsteps rushing down the hall. The door swung open and On Boonchuy came barreling inside.

“What’s going on? I heard screaming!” She said, maternal worry lacing her every word. She looked down and saw Anne softly crying into the crook of Sprig’s neck, “Anne!”

She ran to her daughter just as she turned around and noticed her. The mother pulled her only child as close to her chest as she possibly could, unintentionally prying her from Sprig’s grip.

“It's okay,” On whispered, stroking her hand through the untamable mess that was her hair, “You’re safe, baby! You are safe, and everything is okay!”

Sprig joined in on the hug, once again wrapping his arms around her midsection from behind. On did not even ask why her tennis racket was tossed across the room, and why her closet door had been busted. She only cared about her daughter’s wellbeing.

---

Dinner had been uneventful for the most part. The fish that On had cooked was delicious, as Hop Pop and Polly had professed. The old frog complimented her cooking and even asked for the recipe. With a smile, On thanked Hop Pop and promised to show him how to make it sometime. Anne and Sprig merely picked at their food, the former having to force it down and the latter seeming a bit aloof and standoffish. They did not want to face the judging gaze of Anne’s mother. Even if she had comforted her earlier, it did not keep the Thai girl immune from the frightening gaze of an On Boonchuy-cooked meal left unfinished.

In silence, mother and daughter cleaned up the silverware and placed them in the dishwasher. The Boonchuy matriarch had contemplated asking her daughter about her panic attack, but she figured that it would be better to let things play out for the time being. For now, they just cleaned the table, Anne spraying disinfectant on the oak wood surface and wiping it down with a few squares of paper towels.

She immediately retreated to the safety of her bedroom, not noticing her mother’s wandering eyes staring up at her as she trudged up the stairs and retreated into the darkness. As soon as she shut the door behind her, Anne sunk to the floor again. She didn’t get much time to herself before she heard knocking.

“Ugh! Mom!” Anne raised her voice and threw her head back in annoyance, lightly bumping her head, “I said I wanted space!”

“It’s me.”

Anne dropped her head. She stood up and opened the door. Sprig was standing there awkwardly, tapping his fingers.

“Sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” Sprig looked Anne in the eye, “Can I…can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course,” said Anne  as Sprig ambled into her room and perched himself on her bed, Anne joining him. The two sat in silence for a few seconds before Sprig opened his mouth.

“I’m tired,” Anne interrupted, burying her face in her hands, “I’m so fucking tired.”

Sprig knew he had to choose his words carefully.

“Um…” he started, “Then…maybe y-you should…go to bed? Get…get some rest?”

“I’m not ‘tired’ tired, Sprig,” she sighed, propping herself up on her elbows. Sprig instantly looked like he had made a big mistake.

“I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have said anything!” He looked away from Anne, who immediately perked up and turned the frog around.

“No no no! I’m not mad at you. I promise.”

Sprig looked down, still uncomfortable with the air around them.

“It’s just…” Anne’s eyes scanned around the room, “So many things in here have... her written all over. I don’t even know why I keep coming in here. Everywhere I turn, it seems like there is something that reminds me of her. Like she’s... she’s...”

“Laughing at you?” Sprig offered cautiously.

Her shoulders slumped bitterly, “Yeah.”

Sprig patted her on the shoulder, “Everything is going to be alright, Anne, I promise.”

She scoffed, “Oh yeah? How?”

“Well...” The little frog reached up through his cap to scratch his tuff of red hair in thought. “Maybe... the room’s the problem.” He spread his arms wide and gestured to all the clutter. “If so much stuff reminds you of her, you should get rid of it. Believe me, if I were you, I would just burn this entire room down, destroy everything that says ‘Marcy!’’

It was as if a lightbulb went off above Anne’s head, and not just because the portable lamp on the shelf above her bed had magically turned on. Sprig took notice of the weird coincidence.

“Ho-ly frog, you’re right...” Anne spoke quietly, a glow slowly returning to her face. 

“Uh, am I the only one that noticed that?” Sprig pointed to the lamp, but Anne wholly ignored him and had already jumped to her feet

“Let’s burn it all down!”

Immediately, Sprig’s eyes bugged out of his head as he jumped in front of his friend, frantically waving his arms.

“Waitwaitwaitwaitwait!” Sprig stuttered, “I didn’t mean you had to literally burn your room down. Your parents would be furious! Then they would ground you! Then they would kick us out! Then we’d never see each other again! And then--”

Anne’s hand clasped tightly over Sprig’s mouth, but the pink frog kept babbling through her fingers. 

“I wasn’t talking about burning my entire room down, dude,” she hissed. The last thing she needed was her mother overhearing the word ‘burn’ and ‘room’ right now.

“Oh,” Sprig spoke through her hand and was able to speak more clearly when she removed it, “ So what were you talking about? ”  

Anne smirked, “Help me find some lighter fluid.”

---

It had taken Anne and Sprig half an hour to round up any and all things that were in any way, shape, or form connected to Marcy. Birthday presents, childhood art, books, DVDs, whatever reminded Anne of the girl, it was placed into the pile for kindling. Anne managed to locate the lighter fluid, and had spun a rather convincing lie about wanting to have a bonfire outside with the Plantars to make them feel more at home. Turns out all you had to do was throw some offhand comment about ‘frog customs’ and they’d buy it.

The two dumped all Marcy-related items onto the ground in a heap. Some fragile artifacts broke upon contact. The one thing that Anne had clutched in her hand was the Nelson tennis racket. It was perhaps the nicest gift Marcy had ever given her, earned through weeks of backbreaking work and a symbol of just how much she cared about their friendship.

Now, it was a somber reminder of the simpler days gone by.

Polly burst through the back door, doing a little front flip and landing on her feet, a bottle in her hands, “WHOOOOO! Yeah, let’s light something on fire!”

Anne leaned over to Sprig, muttering, “She is way too eager about this.”

“I heard that,” Polly deadpanned, “And, I’m sorry--really, Anne? Have you learned nothing about me in the last five months you’ve known me? Believe me, this is pretty tame by comparison.”

“You know, she’s not wrong,” shrugged Sprig.

“I can still hear you guys!” 

“What’s all the ruckus about?” 

The new voice made all three freeze up and turn around, seeing an unimpressed Hop Pop standing in the doorway, hands on his hips and glaring at them sternly. 

“Well, I’m waiting!”

“We’re gonna burn stuff!” squeed Polly, jumping up and down. 

“Polly Petunia Plantar!” Hop Pop scolded, wagging a finger. “We’ve been over this. You’re legally barred from all things to do with fire!” His expression darkened. “Remember what happened with the orphanage?” 

“Hey, I had a very good reason! Polly shot back. “They bored me!”

“I don’t even want to know.” Anne stated simply, lifting her hands up.

“Aww c’mon, Hop Pop, it wasn’t Polly’s idea,” reasoned Sprig in his sister’s defense. “Anne just wants to burn all her stuff that reminds her of Marcy!” 

“Say whaaaat?!” Hop Pop reacted, his mouth agape in his usual, overdramatic fashion.

“Remind me never to have you testify for me in court, Sprig,” Anne deadpanned.

Hop Pop was understandably worried. He stepped forward and placed a hand on Anne’s arm, “Anne, are you serious here? Look, I know how you’re feeling right now, but is this really the way to deal with this?”

Anne looked down at Hop Pop’s hand, but the look on her face betrayed what she actually felt. She turned away from him, “I’m the one going through all this, Hop Pop. I think I’m allowed to choose the way I get to deal with it.”

“Yeah, just you…” Sprig grumbled under his breath, and this time no one, not even Anne, heard him. He dragged his toes along the grass.

“Yeah... but burning all this stuff?” Hop Pop gestured to the pile of memories gathered behind Anne, where her eyes followed, “I mean, what exactly do you hope to accomplish here?”

“I don’t know, alright?!” Anne raised her voice, not to the point of yelling, but she was getting there, “Look, Hop Pop, I’ve had to process a lot in the last few days! I’ve got all this... stuff going on inside me and I’m not ready to talk about it right now! This is the best I can think of right now, apparently!”   

“I understand that, but--”

“Really?! Because if you did, I don’t think we’d be having this conversation right now!” snapped Anne, getting more and more visibly irate as she spoke. “Look, just... please let me get this out of my system. Okay?”   

Hop Pop looked quite taken aback by her outburst, but still he took the hint and stood down. Sprig continued to mind the ground and the dirt path he’d dug with his feet. Polly set the lighter fluid down beside her. Suddenly, setting this pile of junk on fire didn’t seem so fun anymore.  

“Okay, Anne,” the elderly frog conceded, “Whatever you need to do, I’ll trust your judgment.”

Anne’s stance softened. She couldn’t stay mad at the frog that took her in when no one else would. It was a moment of weakness for her, when her emotions got the better of her; she was suddenly ashamed of her outburst. She’d apologize to him later.

“Thanks, HP... appreciate it... Polly, you can start.” 

Polly followed her cue and took to pouring out a generous amount of lighter fluid onto the pile, thoroughly soaking it. Anne got the hose ready just in case the fire got out of hand. Sprig handed Anne a book of matches, and with deft skill, she lit the entire set on fire. Hop Pop chose to hang back by the door, a bit uneasy about the whole thing. Also, he wanted to make sure that Anne’s parents did not see what their daughter was really doing.

Without another word, Anne dropped the lit matchbook onto the pile. Within seconds, the fire engulfed everything. Embers and cinders flickered in the nighttime air like macabre fireflies. The thick smoke that emanated from the center mixed in with the crisp fall air. The light from the orange flames flickered off the faces of the Plantars. 

Anne was just lost in deep, contemplative thought. This was it. She was burning all of it down. The house of all the memories that she created with Marcy. Every last square inch would turn to dust, their fate at the mercy of the Santa Ana winds blowing in from the East. Anne wanted nothing more than to erase it all from the face of the Earth, and make it seem like they never existed. 

Then why did she find it so hard to let go of the tennis racket?

Notes:

Once again, we welcome you back!

As you all might notice, this chapter takes it a bit slower compared to the previous three. What MagicMan and I are focusing on in the first batch of post-True Colors chapters is the aftermath of Marcy's betrayal, as well as the trauma the characters are going through. Marcy's rehabilitation is something that we came up with to make sure we don't lose focus on her, as I have heard is a major complaint of the first half of season three; as such, we sought to rectify that with her and The Core in Marcy's subconscious as the artificial intelligence begins to corrupt her even further.

Also, I have noticed some people talking about the changes between the original Quisling Marcy drabble posted on DeviantArt and the final story. I just want to clarify this a bit.

We felt that some changes needed to be made in order for the story to make sense. Having Sasha stabbed and Marcy using her as a host for The Core, to us, did not make much sense story-wise, so we scrapped it in favor of a variation of canon. Do not worry, as we have it all planned out.

Also also...WE HAVE OUR OWN TVTROPES PAGE! That is truly a sign that one has made it in Fanfiction! Follow the link to contribute to it if you so desire: https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Fanfic/AMothToAFlame

And as always, reviews and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated, and I will see you all in the next chapter!

This is TheAllTimeGreatest signing off!

Chapter 9: Update - Please read throughly

Chapter by TheAllTimeGreatest

Summary:

A call for help.

*walks into room; there is a heavy layer of dust all around*

Hellooooooooo!

*echoes of “Hello” ring out around the room*

Huh, guess I better clean this place up.

*rubs hands together, takes a deep breath, and blows the dust away with a forceful exhale.*

Ok! Now that we got that out of the way, allow me to, first and foremost, apologize for the lack of an update over the last few months. Both myself and MagicMan have been weighed down due to real life commitments. That doesn’t mean we haven’t been working on the story. We actually have the next two chapters all finished.

It’s just the issue with editing that has been a constant roadblock.

How we have both been collaborating is that I write the chapters, while MagicMan edits them, and then we upload it. However, multiple variables in MagicMan’s life have left him seldom any time to dedicate solely to editing. I haven’t exactly made it easy with most of my chapters topping out at 30 pages.

So, in the meantime, we have decided to use this update to put out an advertisement to anyone who wants to join on as our editor. We would prefer someone who is a regular Amphibia watcher who has a grasp of the show.

Like I said, I have the next two chapters finished, but they require some editing. Anyone interested, hit us up in the comments below.

Until then, I hope to have the next chapter out soon.

This is TheAllTimeGreatest signing off!

Chapter 10

Summary:

The Core introduces Marcy to her ancestors. Sprig becomes withdrawn and despondent, causing Anne to try and figure out what is wrong with him.

Notes:

I told you that we would be back soon!

As of today's date, we are in the endgame for Amphibia! I'm telling you guys, I am not prepared for the end. I'm on the edge of my seat right now and I can't even begin to think about how this will all come to a head!

Ok, panic mode over now.

So, a heads up if you will, this chapter does contain a rather large info dump. I apologise in advance, but it was the only way to recount Marcy's ancestry. I tried to blend it as effortlessly as possibly wit the current storyline to try and make sure I'm showing, not telling. Most of deals with Ancient Chinese history.

As always, enjoy!

Once she boiled everything down, spending an extended period of time within her own subconscious really was the strangest thing to happen to her up to this point. 

It wasn’t like the real world, where her body determined when she slept, or where suffered the pangs of hunger or thirst. Such trivial things normally didn’t bother Marcy, but here, she was totally free to focus on the one thing that kept her motivated.

Revenge.

From the day that she met The Core, she knew that she was destined for something greater. The pieces that fell into place that led her to Amphibia all made sense when she discovered who she really was. She was meant to be a conqueror, a leader, a warrior. All three of them were.

And then, a knife was run through her back by the one person she thought she could trust.

There was no use in crying about it anymore. Gone were the tears that she shed for herself, only replaced by the growing, festering need for retribution, to right the biggest wrong that she has ever experienced. And when she did, she would make sure that it would all go as planned.

Speaking of plans, Marcy had been left to her own devices for what felt like a while. There seemed to be no concept of time in her subconscious. She surmised it to be a few days, but she couldn’t be certain since the sky stayed the same all day long. Ever since the woman, the mysterious subconscious representation of The Core, assured her that they would begin her “healing process,” she wouldn’t have guessed she’d leave her dangling for this long, yet here she was, taking mental notes of the flora in which she was knelt down among.

‘’Oooooh, I’ve never seen such a specimen.’’ mused Marcy under her breath. A flour shaped like a throwing star, painted a mix of red and blue that swirled along the petals. She held it close to her eye, since she lacked her magnifying glass. 

“Must be cross-pollinated...” Marcy said, holding her hand up to her chin, “Wonder which...”

“Roses and cornflowers, if you must know.”

Marcy instinctively jumped to her feet in alarm and turned on her heel to be greeted by the soothing sight of the young woman. She had her hands folded daintily, an amused grin on her face.

“Please don’t sneak up on me like that.” Marcy muttered bashfully, recomposing herself. The woman bent down to pluck one of the flowers and hold it between her fingers.

“I see the flowers have caught your eye. You always did have a keen interest in learning about nature.” 

Marcy blushed and rubbed her arm, saying, “I... compiled a plant encyclopedia.”

“And that’s why I made them for you.” She waved her slender hand over the flower as if she were casting a silent incantation. It began to glow a bright white, and Marcy saw the flower split into two separate entities. The woman withdrew her hand and the light immediately died down, revealing a rose and a cornflower resting separately between her fingers.

“Nature can be such a beautiful thing, Marcy, much like these flowers,” She slid both into her hair and planted a tender kiss on her forehead. 

“But for the unprepared,” she continued,  “it can also be quite the untameable beast. The world around us can spiral out of control, and only the strong few are able to withstand its harshest elements.”

The woman placed her hands under Marcy’s, “Those who are worthy enough may be able to thrive, and grow into something truly breathtaking. But for those who cannot…”

A darkness enveloped the valley around them. Clouds gathered in the sky as Marcy looked down, the flowers in her hair already withering away and dying. Soon enough, they were hard and blackened, the breeze that picked up taking the last vestiges of the dead plants into the ether.

“…they are left at the mercy of the world’s unending cruelty.”

Marcy’s eyes met the woman’s, and the motherly tenderness in her gaze kept her calm in spite of the unnerving atmosphere she created around her.

“Why are you telling me all this?” 

“Because your ancestors were the same way,” the woman answered, “They adapted, they survived, and they proved themselves the strongest of the strong, the top of the proverbial food chain. They succeeded where others failed, because they simply dared to venture into the unknown.”

And it is time that I show you.”

At first Marcy looked confused, and then let out an obnoxious little snort, saying, “Oh, pffft! No worries,  Andrias already told me all about my ancestors. They were these amazing interdimensional conquerors who helped make Newtopia the greatest civilisation in Amphibia. He even gave me these pages from…” She trailed off rather embarrassed as she looked down at her satchel only to immediately be reminded that neither it, the pages or her journal were there anymore. .  “Oh yeah.”

“Dear child,” The woman chuckled softly, “The King has not even begun to scratch the surface of what your ancestors have accomplished. If you are going to lead by their example, you must first witness their accomplishments first hand.”

Before she had even finished her sentence, the world was already in the process of transforming once more. The colors of the landscape shifted and morphed. The flora and fauna of the valley changed into marble floors and extravagant looking infrastructure. Once the environment leveled out once again, Marcy began to sway ever so slightly, still not acclimatised to the world-changing ways that the Core possessed over her own mind. 

Her vision then settled, and Marcy found herself on the edges of what looked like a regal conference room. In front of her, a table, low to the ground, was positioned in the center of the room, and sat around it were ten men. Some of them were decked out in military armor, while others preferred a more royal attire. At the head of the table sat a larger man, in a dark blue robe. His mustache was neatly combed, his beard extending down from his chin. Atop his head rested what Marcy noted to look like the Dragon Crown.

“Recognise this, Marcy?” asked the woman.

Marcy noted the intense chatter taking place among the men in a tongue Marcy was vaguely familiar with from childhood memories. They were invisible to them, of course, but it didn’t take her long to recognise the building in which they stood.

“We’re in the Shenlu.” 

“Precisely,” The woman said, motioning to the man at the head of the table, “And that, Marcy, is your ancestor: King Wu of the state of Chu.”

Marcy’s jaw could have dropped and cracked the marble floor. She remembered reading about this meeting in the books that her parents had kept. They were relics passed down from generations, detailing the history of Ancient China. Her father insisted that she read them, to ensure she was aware and educated of her proud heritage.

Old man had no idea just how right he was.

Noting the number of men sitting around the table, she surmised easily that they represented the ten vessel states that the kingdom of Chu controlled at the time.

“This is where Wu declared himself king, wasn’t it?” Marcy glanced upwards at the woman, who simply nodded.

“It was considered the beginning of the end of the Zhou Dynasty. It allowed for the rise of the State of Chu as a regional superpower. To make sure that his power remained in place, when he usurped the throne as Viscount of Chu from his brother Fenmao, he gathered a group of his most trusted allies and his most intelligent advisors, and, as you humans say, the rest is history.”

The scene in front of Marcy degenerated into chaos, but just before she could see the result, the room shifted around them once more. Marcy and the woman were pulled into another scene. Only this one was outside, situated underneath the morning dawn in the countryside. Two men, one a portly individual with a black robe, long beard, and black Dragon Crown and another wearing a simple white robe that hid his every feature, sat across from one another at the center of a makeshift campsite, their chariots and horses, as well as several of their soldiers, situated around them.

“Huh,” said Marcy, “I don’t remember reading anything about this.”

“That is the thing about history, Marcy,” chuckled the woman, guiding her as they approached the men, “Some of its events are left out, but that does not make them any less important. In fact, they are sometimes so pivotal, that their very existence in the annals of history would change the way of the world as we know it. Hence, their exclusion.”

Marcy could not make out the words of the two men, but the portly individual was clearly interested in what the hooded man had to say.

“What are they talking about?” 

“This,” the woman said, walking over to the portly man, “is Qin She Huang, the-“

“First Emperor of China.” Marcy finished for her, mouth agape, “And that other guy…?”

“A representative of the Wu Clan, of course. You see, dear Marcy, the period of China’s warring states was a time where the Wu Clan truly cemented its influence among the seven provinces. They were in every corner of every state, from advisors, politicians, military commanders. So, when they saw that the State of Qin was starting to make important moves, a representative was sent to him to secure a deal.”

The two men abruptly stood up and bowed to one another. Marcy approached the now empty table and looked back at the departing men, who gathered their garrisons and set course for home. 

“You are told in history books, Marcy,” the woman started, “that the Qin Dynasty were those who started a near-three-thousand year imperial dynasty. While this is true to an extent, only a select few know that the Clan of Wu were operating from behind the scenes, making the most important decisions.”

Marcy had nothing to say. She just stood there, stoically facing the landscape. The true extent of just how important she and her family, now struggling middle class suburbanites in Los Angeles, really were was a hard, bitter pill to swallow. 

“And it doesn’t end there, Marcy. History is full of moments where the Wus were working behind the scenes, .”

What followed next was something along the lines of the montages that Marcy saw in cheesy sports movies where the protagonists were relentless underdogs in search of victory. Her vision was assaulted by the images of some of history’s most renowned moments.

Marcy’s eyes laid upon the fall of the Han dynasty, witnessing the abdication of Emperor Xian under the pressure of Cao Pi. The fighting between roving warlords, followed by the Wu’s advising Sima Yan, who would later become Emperor Wu of the Jin dynasty. The Wu’s were seen building and crafting the wooden ox, alongside the repeating crossbow, something Marcy, quite understandably, lit up upon seeing. 

“After the Wu’s saw their power wane with the fall of the Hans, they turned their attention to one Sima Yan, who the Wu’s promised to make a powerful ruler; thus, the Jin dynasty was born.” 

“Wow,” Marcy awed, “All of these moments in Chinese history… were defined by my ancestors?”

“Indeed, dear Marcy,” the woman smiled, “You are far more special than Andrias initially led you to believe.”

Marcy looked down at the ground and began scratching at her smooth knuckles, a shy smile on her face.

“I really am… aren’t I?”

The old Marcy was beginning to creep in, and she did not like that one bit. With firm resolve, she shoved it back down, deep down, and looked back up, just as the woman motioned to the landscape in front of her.

“And there is more,” she said, “It wasn’t just China where the Wu’s were prevalent. Their influence was spread all across the known world, including Europe.”

She witnessed a white robed individual speaking with Marcus Brutus and handing him a dagger, followed up by the sixty Roman Senators stabbing Julius Caesar to death. Then she saw two white robed men, one stabbing Mark Antony through the stomach, while the other injecting Cleopatra with a fatal dose of poison. 

“Caesar was a threat to the Wu’s power, and naturally, they disposed of him; when their power was weakened by their allies’ deaths, they sought vengeance by instigating a civil war that brought it to its very knees, and by installing a ruler they could actually control.” 

The rippling landscape shifted and contorted now to show Emperor Octavian being advised by men and women in white robes.

“The Wus went on to expand their influence and control across Europe under the guise of installing chosen rulers, a system which was destined to last for hundreds of years. The infamous Roman Empire would never have risen to such heights without their guidance.” 

And just like that, the old Marcy crept back up like bile in her throat, forcing her to bury her chin in her chest. The woman took note of her apprehension and placed her hand on her shoulder.

“Whatever bothers you, dear child?” She sounded genuinely concerned. “Please tell me. I am here to help you.”

Marcy shuffled her feet. She managed to look the woman in the eye, a feat in and of its own for her, “It’s just…I…” She sighed.

The woman tenderly brushed away the strands of Marcy’s hair that fell in front of her eye.

“What is it, Marcy?” 

“My ancestors…they did all these great things,” she spoke quietly, just above whispering, “They took down warlords, they formed entire empires! They shaped the course of human history! They were born and bred into this, and I’m just…just…”

Her shoulders slumped.

“I’m just me.”

She cursed herself internally when she felt the sensation of hot tears brimming along her eyelids. How embarrassing to be crying in front of Amphibia’s greatest minds. What they must think of her for expressing such weakness.  

“Do you honestly believe their influence lasted forever?”

That question surprised Marcy. She expected the woman to reprimand her for being such a baby. She never failed to be surprised at how caring the woman actually was.

“What?” asked Marcy, “What do you mean?”

“Dear Marcy,” The woman said, “No one empire, no one clan, can ever truly withstand the test of time, not even the Wus. That is the folly of being made of mere flesh, blood and bone. Like those before them, they fell victim to a changing world.”

To best demonstrate her point, the woman conjured up another scene, where ancient Rome was being ransacked by the barbarian tribes. The assassination of Emperor Gong of Jin followed 

“Throughout the known world, the forces that the Wu’s could not control were beginning to close in on them. Soon, the precious influence they accumulated through the Roman Empire faded away once the West fell to ruin. Once Emperor Gong was killed, even the Wu’s stranglehold on China faltered to a steady decline. The split of the Northern and Southern Chinese dynasties would break their power irreparably and in the course of the next 200 years, all they worked for had eroded to nothing.” 

Though her serene demeanor remained unchanged, there was a note of bitterness in the woman’s voice that Marcy hadn’t picked up on until now. 

“It wasn’t until, in their unmatched genius, they invented something that would allow them to discover whole new places where they could exert their power. Or rather, new worlds.”

Marcy knew what was coming next before the woman finished her sentence. 

“The Calamity Box,” she whispered. 

As if on cue, a glowing golden chest appeared. The same chest destiny presented to her on a silver platter, first in that book in the library, and then in the thrift shop window, practically calling out for her. All it took to return it to her rightful possession was an act of petty shoplifting. Then again, Marcy wondered with some wry amusement, one couldn’t really steal what belonged to her.  

“Truly mankind’s greatest creation,” remarked the woman, “It took decades to construct, and centuries to perfect its power.”

The three gems, pink, blue, and green, then fell, one by one, into their respective slots atop the box’s lid.

“The Wus considered it their most prized possession. With it, they sought to assert their influence over other worlds; however, with the collapse of their influence on Earth, it became their last ditch attempt at starting over from scratch.” The woman explained, and as she did, she showed Marcy a scene where a large group of humans whom she could only assume were Wus were gathered  in the wooded hills of the Caucasus mountains. One of them pressed the three gems in the correct order, and an enormous portal opened. “Instructions were given to the remaining Wus who stayed behind to act as custodians over what they had left.”

The scene faded away, and the two of them now stood in the dark. Marcy was given a knowing, and sad, smile from the woman, who in return simply kept her head down.

“And, of course, you know what happens next.”

The world around them returned, and they found themselves, much to Marcy’s comfort, in the sprawling valley underneath the ethereal sky once more. 

A pregnant pause filled the air between them. Marcy withdrew herself and took to pacing up and down through the grass. The woman kept a respectful distance, knowing it best to give her the space to think. 

“They’d lost everything they had on Earth…” murmured Marcy just loud enough so the woman could hear. , She stopped in her tracks and looked back at her over her shoulder, “And when they finally came back, the whole world was so different, no one remembered who they were. Like they never even existed.” .”

Marcy felt the woman’s hand land delicately on her shoulder. She placed her own hand over hers and craned her head back up at her  

“You see, dear Marcy?” asked the woman, “Not even your glorious ancestors were immune to the forces around them; no one person can escape the winds of change.”

Marcy’s heart hardened, her eyes narrowed, and she felt her resolve return. Her anxieties and worries melted away.

“Until now.”

A sinister grin spread across the woman’s features. Her eyes flickered a sickly orange.. She observed just how Marcy’s resolve was inadvertently changing the landscape. The sky grew darker and a low rumble shook the ground.

“Very good, Marcy,” she lauded, running her free bony hand through her hair, “Your anger strengthens your resolve, and that resolve is something that you will need to conquer not just your enemies, but yourself.”

Marcy’s quizzical gaze returned, “Myself?”

“Child, what I have showed you was meant to teach you just how your ancestors came to power, and how they, just as quickly, let their power fall to ruin.However, there is much more you have to learn about yourself before the vision that you possess can come to fruition.”

She took Marcy by the hand and guided her, “We have only just begun.”

---

Sprig was starting to enjoy life in this strange new world.

He found joy and wonder in even the most mundane of things. Whether it was excessively pushing the buttons he found located near crosswalks, rifling through the junk mail that the Boonchuys received on a daily basis, or even watching action movies and television shows on what the pink frog dubbed “the moving picture box,” Sprig’s curiosity always got the best of him. Anne, on occasion, thought it to be tiring to keep up with his misadventures, yet she could not fault him for doing so. She knows exactly what that is like.

Hanging from the ceiling fan, Sprig dangled upside down, reading one of Anne’s trashy tabloid magazines. He did not have many responsibilities around the house, aside from doing the bare minimum cleaning and keeping things in order, so he was free to do pretty much what he wanted. He flipped the page and laughed at the “news” of the “sighting” of a monster in the Pacific Ocean.

“Haha,” Sprig chuckled, “That’s nothing compared to Amphibia. A ‘lock-nest monster?’ Please.”

As the young frog read on, his nose caught the whiff of a heavenly scent. A deep inhale of the steam instantly made his mouth water. Flipping down from the fan and onto his feet, he was practically levitating towards the source of the smell as he headed into the kitchen. Mrs. Boonchuy was standing over the stove, stooping over a large pot on one of the burners. Saliva poured like a river from Sprig’s mouth, his lime green tongue licking his lips with excitement. 

Sprig approached Anne’s mother from behind, who wordlessly stirred the contents of the pot with a large paddle, “What are you making?”

“It’s dinner!” Mrs. Boonchuy stated, “We’re having stew!”

“Wooooooooow! It smells great!” Sprig complimented, hopping on the balls of his feet.

“That’s because it has my special ingredient!”

“Really? What is it?”

That curiosity of his peaked once again as the pink frog inched forward. Mrs. Boonchuy suddenly lifted the heavy pot off the stove and put it directly in front of Sprig’s eyes. When the young frog boy saw what was inside, he wished he had just stayed in Anne’s room.

“It’s frog.”

Aside from the broth, chopped up pieces of frogs were strewn about the inside of the pot. The chunks of meat were a pale shade of orange and purple, and if one looked closely, one could make out a few grey hairs and a yellow bow among the scattering of vegetables. The crumpled, rotted tale of a pollywog floated aimlessly, as well as lifeless eyeballs that were border lining on cataracts. 

Sprig jumped back, a blood-curdling scream jumping forth from his trembling core. He fell back onto his posterior. Hyperventilating, he looked up at Mrs. Boonchuy, whose teeth suddenly became sharp and jagged, her nails digging into the pot’s rusted metal. A devious, horrifying laugh escaped her lips as she started to tower over Sprig, her form as large as a skyscraper. Her hand reached up as the room around the pink frog began to grow.

“And I just need one more.”

Mrs. Boonchuy’s hand swooped down from above like a hawk and went straight through the kitchen floor. Sprig narrowly avoided her elongated fingers as he scurried backwards. His back collided with something, but it wasn’t a wall. Rather, they were the sock-covered toes of one Mr. Boonchuy. The man towered over Sprig just like his wife. Instead of holding a pot, a meat cleaver was raised high into the air.

“Come on, little frog,” Mr. Boonchuy’s distorted voice haunted the pink frog, “Don’t you want to be part of such a delicious stew?”

Down came the knife, and through the legs of Mr. Boonchuy the frog went! The knife cracked the floor as Sprig made a mad dash for anywhere but the kitchen. The Boonchuys gave chase after the boy, who dashed down the hallway leading up to the stairs. Their insane and evil laughs, alongside their pleas for the pink frog to come back, scared the living daylights out of Sprig. The hallway seemed to stretch further and further. Sprig could not remember it being this far. Looking over his shoulder, he had to bend backwards to avoid a swipe from Mr. Boonchuy’s meat cleaver, and had to hop into the air to keep himself from being skewered by Mrs. Boonchuy’s butcher knife.

Finally, the hallway seemed to be coming to an end, as Sprig could see the stairs leading up to Anne’s room. Not even wasting any time going one-by-one, Sprig shot his lime green tongue out, sticking it to the ceiling. He swung himself up, barely getting away in time. With a backflip, Sprig landed on his feet on top of the landing and sprinted back to Anne’s room. Finding the door closed, Sprig reached out and wrenched the knob to the right, but the door would not budge.

“Come here, pink frog.” Mrs. Boonchuy’s voice sung in the most terrifying way imaginable. 

“We just want to eat you!” Mr. Boonchuy’s “reassurance” did not help Sprig in any way.

His lips trembling in absolute terror, Sprig pounded on the bedroom door, “ANNE! ANNE! ARE YOU IN THERE?! OPEN UP!”

Sprig looked back and saw the two blood-thirsty amphibivores gaining, stalking him slowly, almost as if they were taking their time on purpose.

“ANNE! YOUR PARENTS ARE TRYING TO EAT ME! THEY KILLED HOP POP AND POLLY!”

Then, the door opened, and Sprig rushed inside. He heard the door close behind him. Breathing the biggest sigh of relief, he saw a shadow loom over him, its large, bushy hair telling him that it was his best friend.

“Phew!” Sprig wiped his brow, “Thanks Anne! I thought I was a goner!”

Sprig turned around and looked up at Anne. Her eyes were covered by her bangs, and she had an unnerving smile splitting her face. 

“Don’t worry,” Anne growled, running her hand through Sprig’s tuft of orange hair, “I would never let something happen to sweet, delectable you.”

Her touch was anything but comforting, her cold, clammy hand sending fearful shivers down his spine.

“Oh, you’re going to feed me to your parents, aren’t you?”

His knees buckled, and Anne’s other hand shot out and grabbed him by the throat before his knees could hit the carpeted floor. He kicked around in an effort to free himself, but it did him no good. He finally got a good look at Anne’s eyes, and saw that they were just as wild and crazy as her parents.

Speaking of that crazy couple, in they barged as the doorknob cracked the wall behind it.

“Very good, Anne!” Mr. Boonchuy snarled.

“I was afraid our final ingredient was going to go bad.” Mrs. Boonchuy laughed.

“Don’t worry,” Anne said, looking back into Sprig’s fearful eyes, “He’s just ripe for the picking!”

Suddenly, Sprig felt like he was a thousand feet in the air, and when he looked down, he saw that the carpeted floor had disappeared. Anne squeezed down onto his throat, Sprig gasping for air as he was thrown downwards. His back hit a hard, wooden surface, and his limbs splayed out around him. He looked and saw they were tied down with rope, and he was on a cutting board.

His captors loomed over him, Mr. Boonchuy placing the pot back on the stove, bringing it back to a high, rolling boil. Anne sat down at a table, a bib, fork, and knife at the ready.

“When’s dinner going to be ready, Mom?” Anne asked.

“Very soon, honey!” Mrs. Boonchuy answered, “Just gotta prep the final ingredient.”

With that final declaration, she raised her butcher knife into the air, and as she brought it down, the last thing Sprig did before he met the cold steel was scream at the top of his lungs

---

Sprig gasped as he shot up. His head swiveled, looking around his environment. He was no longer in the kitchen. He looked down at his wrists and saw that they were no longer tethered by rope. Most importantly, the large, daunting figures of the Boonchuys were nowhere to be seen. Rather, he was snuggled on a bean bag. Across Anne’s room, he saw Polly sleeping next to Domino, the pollywog snuggled up to the cat. Hop Pop was sprawled across the floor next to Anne’s bed, having fallen off in the middle of the night, and taking a few of the blankets with him. Anne herself was sleeping soundly in her bed, having not been disturbed by Sprig’s tossing and turning in the midst of his nightmare.

Sprig noted the darkness, save for the streetlights outside that offered a faint glow of light to pour into the room via the window. He sighed and flopped back onto the bean bag. This had been going on for a few nights now. He’d have a dream of being eaten in various ways by the Boonchuys, would shoot awake gasping for air, would distract himself so he wouldn’t fall back asleep, and the cycle would repeat all over again. Sometimes, the nightmares would be different, such as Mrs. Boonchuy dropping him from a tower, falling further and further into a never ending abyss of pure darkness.

Sprig stood up, groaning, making sure not to wake anyone up. He really did not need to deal with any questions or anyone’s worry.

He creaked the door open a tad before slipping out, crawling his way up to the roof. This became a ritual of his once his nightmares became too much to bear. He sat, forlorn, on the tiles and watched the lights in the distance, where the glow of the skyscrapers downtown did just enough to keep Sprig awake through the night.

As morning dawned, Sprig snuck back into the house without anyone figuring out that he was on the roof. The rest of the occupants of Anne’s room were awoken by the scent of pancakes frying on the portable griddle. Hop Pop and Polly practically floated downstairs, the allure of breakfast too much of an intoxicating aroma. Sprig took his time reaching the kitchen, where he noticed Mrs. Boonchuy standing at the table, a plate and spatula in her hand.

“Who wanted the chocolate chips?” She asked, to which Polly raised her stubby hand. Mrs. Boonchuy slid three pancakes into Polly’s dish, along with three regular pancakes into Hop Pop’s.

“Pass the syrup. I want to feel the sugar flowing through my veins!” Polly declared, to which Anne handed the bottle to her so the pollywog could drench her breakfast in liquid sweetness.

“Alright Polly,” Hop Pop took the bottle from her, “Leave some for the rest of us.”

Sprig cautiously walked into the kitchen, his eyes to the floor. He didn’t catch Mrs. Boonchuy turning around, which caused the frog to walk right into the back of her legs. He tumbled to the floor, and Mrs. Boonchuy noticed, turning her head to see what crashed into her.

“Are you ok, pink frog?”

Sprig looked up just as the morning sun shone through the kitchen window. The way it reflected off of Mrs. Boonchuy caused her to silhouette. In her hand was what looked like a blade. 

Sprig screamed, backing away and into the fridge. Anne and the Plantars stood up once they heard the pink frog scream. His chest rising and falling at a fast rate, the angle at which he backed up caused the light to shine downwards, revealing a very confused looking On Boonchuy, holding what was now shown to be the spatula.

“What’s wrong, Sprig?”

“You alright, boy?”

“Everything ok, bro?”

Anne, Hop Pop, and Polly’s questions fell on deaf ears as Mrs. Boonchuy stepped closer to Sprig, who just lay flat against the fridge door. Noticing how unsettled he was, On did not take another step closer.

“Is everything ok?” She asked, to which Sprig, eyes darting side to side, hastily nodded his head. 

“Y-Y-Yeah,” Sprig gave an unconvincing crooked smile and a thumbs up, “Everything is a-ok with this boy!” 

“Didn’t sound like it, dude.” Anne said.

“N-no no!” Sprig waved his arms, “It’s just the way the sun…and the light…and the shadows and all the…” he cleared his throat, offering, “I was up all night reading Anne’s horror manga?”

The quizzical looks on everyone’s faces and the following silence gave the impression no one was buying it, until they started nodding their heads and murmuring in agreement.

“I warned ya, dude,” Anne intoned sagely.

“Well…” Mrs. Boonchuy spoke up a little awkwardly, “I made pancakes if you want any.”

Sprig looked towards the table and saw a chair for him, a plate of pancakes sitting nicely on a plate. He wordlessly got up and shuffled towards the table, doing his best to keep his eyes off of Mrs. Boonchuy. He stared at the pancakes for a few seconds, taking note of the sounds of Anne and his grandfather and sister scarving their down as if they were going to the electric chair. He cautiously picked up the fork and knife and began to dig in.

“Do I smell pancakes?”

Sprig softly gasped and dropped his cutlery. That voice haunted his nightmares, much like Mrs. Boonchuy’s. Slowly craning his head he saw Mr. Boonchuy, still dressed in his duck-themed pajamas, approached his wife from behind and wrap his arms around her waist, lovingly kissing her cheek as the woman giggled and playfully told her husband to stop. Sprig could feel his breathing start to increase, his hands beginning to shake. If he could sweat, there’d be a puddle beneath the seat. 

“Uh, actually, I think I’m going to eat breakfast in the living room,” Sprig said quickly, standing up and grabbing his plate, “Sound good? Good! Kay thanks byyyyyyye!”

Sprig practically ran to the couch, ignoring the calls from everyone else. He hopped behind the couch’s armrest, nestling himself into the fabric. He looked down at the pancakes and was about to dig in, but stopped his tongue right away when he thought of something.

Wait, Mrs. Boonchuy made these, he thought, taking a big gulp, setting the plate down on the floor. What if she…. poisoned them?! N-No, that’s crazy! It was just a dream! … but what if…

The pancakes remained untouched; eventually, they ended up in the backyard, buried underneath one of the bushes in an anxious haste. Sprig spent the next few hours curled up in a ball on the roof, in his disguise so no one would notice him.

---

The day dragged on, at least from Sprig’s point-of-view. Sprig spent most of the morning in the backyard. It wasn’t until noon when Anne came outside to tell Sprig that she needed to head to her family’s restaurant, Thai Go, to help with the lunch rush. She had been adamant about him coming along and seeing the restaurant for the very first time (in disguise, of course), but Sprig was very hesitant

“Come on, dude,” Anne pleaded, “It’ll be cool for you to see the restaurant. I can show you all the cool dishes that I was telling you about.”

“Uh…” Sprig hesitated, “I’m not sure…”

“Sprig, is there something wrong?” Anne asked, kneeling down to Sprig’s height, “I mean, you’ve been pretty distant all day, you’ve been hanging outside, and then there was that incident at breakfast…”

“It’s fine, Anne.” Sprig forced a smile and a thumbs up, “Everything is a-ok in Sprig’s world!”

“You sure?” Anne persisted, to which Sprig internally groaned at the girl’s pressing questions, “If there’s anything you want to talk about-“

“Nope! I’m all good!” Sprig jumped up, interrupting Anne with an unsettlingly bright smile, “Thai Go! Sounds good to me!”

Sprig dashed out of the backyard and through the front door, ignoring Anne’s calls to wait for her. If going to the restaurant would keep Anne from asking him too many more probing questions, then he would take it.

For Sprig, the ride to Thai Go was, to put it mildly, uncomfortable. Mr. Boonchuy was their primary mode of transportation, and since his wife had already taken the family minivan, all three of them were forced to squeeze onto the small seat of his moped. The pink frog was unceremoniously squished in between the two, forced to hold onto the fabric of Mr. Boonchuy’s shirt. His anxieties began to kick in once more, but he managed to hold it down long enough until they arrived at the restaurant.

Thai Go was a relatively small eatery, with a combination of eating in and take outs, alongside delivery drop offs. Yet, it was always packed. Today, the line was out the door as Mr. Boonchuy parked his moped in the alley. Adjusting his mask, Sprig bounded into the kitchen through the establishment’s back door. His nose was assaulted by various scents and spices, and his ears filled with the pounded clatters of metal pots and cutlery. The smell of the dishes that Mrs. Boonchuy, beads of sweat pouring down from her bandana-wrapped hair, made Sprig tremble. He couldn’t help but think about that smell from his dream before its source was revealed to be the worst possible thing imaginable.

“Good, you're here!” Mrs. Boonchuy craned her head to her husband while she continued searing vegetables in a pan, “Honey, I need your help cooking,” She turned to Anne and Sprig, “Can you two help with taking orders and waiting tables?”

“You can count on us, Mom!” Anne said, even going the distance by throwing in a military salute, “Right Sprig?”

The pink frog didn’t say anything, wordlessly offering a thumbs up instead. For the next few hours, Sprig, Anne, and her parents did everything that they could to keep up with the growing number of people flowing into the joint. The limited number of staff that the Boonchuys had on hand were doing all that they could as well. Soon enough, the crowd evened out, and now things were at a steady pace. Anne and Sprig worked well with one another, and aside from a few grease stains and one beverage spill (courtesy of Anne tripping over Sprig), everything worked out.

Finally, it was close to three in the afternoon, and the lunch rush had finally died down. A few tables remained filled by patrons as Sprig wiped down empty ones nearby. Anne brought out two dishes of her mother’s Squid and Basil Special, and set them down for a couple, two women of average height, one with blond hair and the other a brunette.

“Here you are, two Squid and Basil Specials for my favorite couple!” 

“Aww, you’re too much,” the brunette smiled sweetly, waving a hand at the girl.

“I try,” Anne laughed, scratching the back of her head.

“It’s good to have you back, Anne,” the blonde said, “We missed you.”

“I missed you guys, too. Um…” Anne looked just a little bit nervous and added hastily, “A-And hey, don’t worry about where I was.I was at a tennis camp the whole time. My parents, uhh, they got their wires crossed a little.” She leaned in to whisper, “You know my Mom. Doesn’t always speak perfect English .”

“I speak better English than you, young lady!” came her mother’s voice from the kitchen. The girls laughed.

“Who said we were going to ask where you were?” The brunette asked, smiling with her arms crossed, obviously teasing Anne.

“Aww, it’s just everyone’s been asking me that question lately, so I might as well beat you two to the punch.” 

“Fair enough.” The brunette giggled, the blonde taking standing aside and silently in her girlfriend’s beauty. Sprig watched Anne interact with the two and smiled beneath his mask.

Wow, they seem so…nice, Sprig thought to himself as he absentmindedly wiped down the surface of a table, Aww Frog, maybe I have been too judgy with humans. I mean, Anne’s awesome, and her folks seem… kinda cool, I guess…

As the brunette and Anne shared a laugh, the blonde spoke up, “So Anne, what happened to the Chili Curry Frog dish?”

Sprig’s heart, his brain, his entire being froze as if he suddenly found himself in a freezer. The air was caught in his throat, his pupils shrinking down to pen marks.

For Anne, her face drained of color and her eyes snapped wide. She didn’t even need to turn around and look at Sprig to know what his reaction might be. 

“Uhhhhhhh...” Anne’s eyes darted around, “Uhhhhhhh…”

Sprig found feeling in his hands again as they trembled, and the squeeze bottle of disinfectant slipped from his hands and rolled off the table’s edge, falling to the floor with a hollow thunk! As Anne nervously spun some lame excuse that they ran out of ingredients for it, the pink frog’s breathing increased as he heard the horrifying voices of the nightmare versions of Anne and her parents reverberating in his ears.

“Don’t you want to be part of such a delicious stew?”

“Come here, pink frog.”

Tears tugged at the corners of Sprig’s eyes. As his legs gave out from underneath him, he desperately pulled himself up and ran towards the kitchen. He did not see Mr. Boonchuy coming through the beaded curtain and ran right into his legs. The man tumbled back against the back door leading into the alley, and Sprig himself reached out for anything to catch himself on. His hand, unknowingly, grasped onto the hem of Mrs. Boonchuy’s sweater.

Thrown off balance by the sudden weight tugging on her, Mrs. Boonchuy shot backwards and accidentally let the knife in her right hand go, sending it flying into the air. The woman, herself, reached out to latch onto the counter to break her fall. In the process, her hand landed on the handle of a meat cleaver that was dangling ever so slightly off the counter. The force of her palm slamming onto the cooking instrument also sent the clever flying alongside the knife. 

Sprig was able to dodge Mrs. Boonchuy’s falling body as the woman twisted and slammed into the corner of the counter, her hand gripping the counter being the only thing that saved her from hitting the ground at full force. Just as the pink frog was about to recuperate himself, a glare from the light fixture on the ceiling temporarily blinded him, and just before he could put his hand up to shield his eyes, he saw a falling object come directly at his head.

He gasped just as the knife embedded into the tip of Sprig’s hat. The boy had no time to react as he saw a second object fall down towards him. Its angle was lower than that of the knife. Sprig parted his legs just as the meat cleaver made impact right in between his lower appendages. He screamed at the top of his lungs.

“Are you guys alright?” Mr. Boonchuy sat up and asked. Mrs. Boonchuy’s eyes went wide, seeing how close the two sharp kitchen tools came to impaling their amphibian visitor.

“Oh my gosh!” Mrs. Boonchuy gasped as she scrambled to her feet and went over to Sprig, “Are you ok, Sprig?!” As she approached the young frog, Sprig backed away from her with fright in his eyes.

“No!” Sprig yelled, “Don’t touch me! Get away from me!”

Mrs. Boonchuy was persistent and reached out for the frog, “I just want to help. Please Sprig, you can trust me.”

Those last four words must have hit the right button within Sprig’s mind because panic kicked in at full force. He couldn’t control his breath. His eyes were farting around for an escape. By some miracle, he found his voice.

“GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU MONSTER!!!”

He couldn’t take it anymore. Swiping away Mrs. Boonchuy’s outstretched hand, he got up and ran out of the kitchen,dashing through the dining room, to the confused glances of Anne and the remaining customers. He bashed through the doors and sprinted down the street as fast as his legs could take him. The tears finally began to flow as Sprig collapsed in the middle of an empty playground. His wails and his cries of pain did not relieve the fear he felt deep within his very being.

---

Hop Pop was lain across the couch in the Boonchuy room. Dried mud spots dotted his clothes. Unlike Sprig, the old frog opted to stay home so he could give Polly a bath. Much like back in Wartwood, attempting to bathe the pollywog was a hassle. It took nearly the entire day, but Hop Pop had finally got it done and over with. Now he could just lie back on the couch and take a nice, long, relaxing-

“HOP POP!” 

“AHHHHHH!” The elder frog screeched in shock, flailing his spindly limbs around and falling to the carpeted floor. Hop Pop looked up and saw that Anne, still in her apron and bandana from work, had barged through the front door, beads of sweat trickling down her face.

“Dangit, Anne!” Hop Pop stood up, cracking his ailing back, “Can’t ya see I’m trying to relax here?! Giving Polly a bath ain’t no easy task, you know.”

“Yeahyeahyeah!” Anne said quickly, “We’ve got bigger problems! Sprig ran off from the restaurant and I can’t find him!”

Hop Pop’s expression immediately changed, “Wait, what? What do you mean he ran off?”

“I’m not really sure!” Anne shrugged, “My mom said that there was an accident in the kitchen and Sprig just started losing it!”

“Accident?!” Hop Pop grew fearful, running up to Anne and grabbing her hand, “Is Sprig ok? Was he hurt?”

“He’s fine, but I don’t know where he ran off to.”

“Don’t worry! We’ll help you find him. Polly!”

Polly came into the living room at once, riding atop Domino, “What’s up, Hop Pop?”

“Your brother’s missing. We’ve gotta go find him.” Hop Pop said, to which Polly, getting completely serious, jumped off Domino and agreed to help without a second thought.

With Polly and Hop Pop in their disguises, the trio set out around the neighborhood searching for the pink frog. They searched for what seemed like hours on end, and the sun began setting in the sky, blotching the clouds orange. As the sun set, Anne suggested that they return home before the Boonchuy parents, but Hop Pop and Polly were adamant about finding Sprig. Hop Pop pointed out that they had not searched one certain place: the playground.

As Polly and Hop Pop approached the gates, Anne froze. She realized that she had not been back here since she was transported to Amphibia. So much had changed in those five months. 

The trio combed the playground. It was not very large, so it did not take much time. Polly got into hard-to-reach places, while Hop Pop made sure that, quite literally, no stone was left unturned. Anne’s gaze turned towards the lone tree, and she noticed something on the ground next to it: a facemask.

Anne exhaled a deep sigh. She was mentally preparing herself for the conversation she was about to have. Her clammy hands wiped against her shorts as she approached the tree. Peering around the trunk, she looked down and found the pink frog, his knees huddled against his chest, and his face tucked into the space between his torso and legs.

Anne leaned against the tree, “You know, you’re going to have to talk about this eventually.”

Sprig pulled himself from the ball he was curled up in and looked up at Anne. He did not seem to be overly surprised that she was there. He had heard her calling out his name when she entered the playground. Her words made him turn away from her, wiping his eyes of any tears threatening to fall.

“I don’t have to.”

Hop Pop and Polly noticed Anne over by the tree and went over to her, finding her talking to the frog they were looking for. A few hugs later, the questions started flying. “Where were you?” and “We’ve been worried sick about you!” were thrown around, with Polly throwing in a “We thought you were eaten!” for good measure. All of them were shrugged off by Sprig. He simply got up and dug his hands into his pockets. He walked over to the swingset and sat down, slightly rocking back and forth.

“Sprig, what’s going on?” Hop Pop asked, “You’ve been acting crazy all day!”

“Anne’s been saying you had a major freakout at the restaurant!” Polly flailed her stubby arms for dramatic effect.

“Talk to us, bro!”

“You gotta talk to us, boy!”

“You can’t just close yourself off from us, Sprig.”

“My great-great-great aunt was the same! Why she even-”

Anne’s face scrunched in second-hand embarrassment. She knew that bombarding Sprig with all these questions was doing him no favors. Every passing question visibly aggravated the pink frog, but his sister and grandfather seemed to pay no attention to it. Just as Anne was about to step in, Sprig jumped off the swing and screamed.

“WILL YOU GUYS SHUT UP?!!”

That did enough to stop the three dead in their tracks. Hop Pop and Polly seemed to be more shocked than Anne.

“For Frog’s sake, don’t you guys ever know when to take a hint?!” Sprig roared, “Was avoiding you guys like the plague not obvious enough?!”

“Alright, Sprig,” Anne tried her best to soothe the savage beast of Sprig’s anger, “Just…tell us why you’re all wound up like this?”

“I don’t need to tell you anything.” Sprig hung his head and started to make for the gate, but Anne stepped in front of him.

“Why not, dude?” Anne placed her hands on her hips, “Don’t you know that you can always trust me?”

That word reared its ugly head once again. First Mrs. Boonchuy, and now Anne herself. At this point, Sprig was sick and tired of hearing that word, and it showed on his face as it twisted into a scowl that took Anne by surprise. She did not dare say anything else, lest she run the risk of saying something that set off the pink frog.

“Trust, huh?” Sprig chuckled mirthlessly, “Just like you told me I could trust Sasha and Marcy?”

That response certainly took Anne by surprise. 

“Wh-What?” she asked, “What do you mean?”

“Well, am I wrong, Anne?! You said we could trust Sasha, isn’t that exactly what you said?” Sprig was speaking a lot louder now, and more aggressive in his tone. It was actually making Anne uneasy. Hop Pop and Polly weren’t far behind.

“I-I mean… I guess…” Anne wringed her sweaty hands, “But what’s that gotta—“

“And Marcy too, am I right?!”

“Sprig, what’s your point?!”

“My poi…” Sprig gaped at her incredulously. “Do you really need me to spell this out?! THEY BOTH NEARLY KILLED ME, ANNE!”

Anne jumped back. She wanted to respond again, but she could not find any words, and the more she thought about it, the more she understood where he was coming from. She introduced Sasha and Marcy to her found family as two wonderful, awesome best friends of hers. People that the Plantars could trust with their lives. 

In the end, they turned out to be just the opposite.

“Now hold on, Sprig,” Hop Pop interrupted, approaching Sprig and placing a hand on his shoulder, “Anne was just as shocked as the rest of us about Sasha and Marcy. You can’t blame her for any of this.”

“It’s not just her…” Sprig said, turning away, “If anything, I should be mad at all three of you.”

Once again, all three of them were shocked, “What!? Are you serious?” Polly asked, aghast that her brother would blame her of all people “It’s not like we all wanted any of this to happen!”

“And yet, you guys just wouldn’t shut up about how great Marcy was!” Sprig yelled, “‘Oh, Marcy’s completely different from Sasha!’” Sprig parroted Anne’s description, to which the Thai girl shrunk back and rubbed her arm.“

“She’s pretty harmless!” Sprig’s voice deepened to match Hop Pop, the elder frog crossing his arms. 

“‘I trust her with my life’” Sprig mimicked his sister effortlessly, to which the pollywog scowled with annoyance, “You guys were kissing the ground she walked on like she was the greatest thing you had ever seen!”

“OK, fine Sprig!” Polly exploded, throwing her hands in the air, “We were wrong, you were right! There! We said it! Are you happy now?! For once in your life, you were right about something!”

“NO! I’M NOT HAPPY!” Sprig yelled again, “Because none of you seem to get it! You guys kept telling me I could trust Marcy with my life, well guess what? I did, AND I NEARLY LOST MINE! YOU THINK YOU GOT PROBLEMS, ANNE!? YOUR BESTIE DROPPED ME OUTTA BAGILLION STORY WINDOW!!!!

Sprig’s vocal cords were getting strained to the point his words were coming out scratchy.  Tears began to flow freely from his eyes as Polly shrunk back from Sprig’s yelling. She suddenly regretted going after her brother like she did.

“Ever since we got here, I’ve been having these dreams,” he said, voice shaking, “Nightmares…”

“Sprig…” Anne approached him, but he instantly scuttled away from her.

“Sometimes it's getting dropped out of the castle and… I’m just falling…” Sprig steeled himself, “Sometimes, Anne’s parents are trying to eat me…”

Anne gasped at the last one. She knew that Sprig harbored resentment for Marcy, but she had no idea that he was projecting his fears onto her parents.

“Is that why you ran out of the restaurant?” Anne asked, to which Sprig nodded solemnly.

“I was a Frog darn idiot to go there in the first place…” Sprig conceded. Anne knelt down to Sprig’s height.

“Sprig, my parents would never hurt you. I’ll make sure of it.” Anne promised, to which Sprig turned away and stared towards the ground.

“Your track record isn’t exactly reassuring, Anne...” 

“Bro, you should have said something to us,” Polly walked over to her brother and hugged him.

“You guys…” Sprig began, lightly pushing Polly off of him, “You guys wouldn’t understand…”

“Wanna give it a shot?” Hop Pop asked, “Sasha nearly had me fed to a giant monster plant thing! Remember that? I certainly don’t want to, thank you very much!”

Sprig wanted to respond, but he did not want to admit that Hop Pop had a point. However, he couldn’t understand why it was that he was going through so much more than the elder frog. Perhaps Hop Pop had gone through a heck of a lot more than he lets on.

“I just…” Sprig started, before falling to his posterior, cradling his head in his hands, “I'm really scared, you guys. What happened with Sasha at Toad Tower was one thing, but this whole thing with Marcy? It’s really messing with my head. I just…can’t feel completely comfortable around others anymore, especially humans. And now, I can’t escape them! They’re everywhere I go!”

“So what…you can’t even trust me?”

Anne’s question felt like a slap across the face for the little frog. The genuine hurt in her eyes instantly filled him with shame. He couldn’t bear to look at her. 

I’m such a coward…

With that, Sprig pushed past Anne and ran out of the playground, ignoring the calls from Anne, Hop Pop, and Polly. Sprig ran as far as his little legs could carry him, mentally repeating his mantra of trusting no one else but himself.

---

Anne leaned on the counter as the rhythmic crackling of popcorn verberated from the whirring microwave. She listlessly tapped her fingers against her cheek. She was the one who insisted on this movie marathon night the other day, but with the events that had transpired over the course of the day, not having Sprig to hang around with during it was bringing her down. At the very least, Polly and Hop Pop were able to put on happy faces. All three of them knew that they should give Sprig some space, but it seemed that Anne was having the most trouble handling it.

“This was a good idea, Anne.” 

Anne turned to see her mother enter the kitchen, holding a large bowl to put the popcorn in.

“I’ve never seen two talking frogs so excited for movies!” Mrs. Boonchuy said, “Then again, I’ve never seen talking frogs before, so go figure!”

The older woman had herself a good ol’ laugh, but Anne was really having none of it. She simply forced a few chuckles before turning back towards the microwave.

“So where’s Sprig?” Mrs. Boonchuy asked, “I haven’t seen him since this afternoon. Is he ok?”

“Yeah,” Anne droned, running her hand across her face, “he’s fine, Mom. He’s…he’s just tired is all.”

“Well, I hope he’s got enough rest, because this movie marathon is going to be an all-nighter!” Mrs. Boonchuy said, excitedly.

“Actually, Mom…” Anne started, turning towards her mother with her eyes down, “Sprig’s…not joining us…”

Mrs. Boonchuy’s smile fell, “What, why?”

“He…” Anne carefully chose her words, “He just isn’t feeling up to it right now.”

“Is this because of what happened at the restaurant?” Mrs. Boonchuy asked, before becoming flustered, “B-Because if it is, I said I was sorry. I didn’t mean to almost hurt him!”

“No no no!” Anne waved her hands erratically in an attempt to calm her mother down, “It’s not that!” The microwave beeped, the popcorn ready, “It’s just…it’s just more complicated than that…”

Mrs. Boonchuy’s eyes drooped with worry as Anne poured the popcorn into the bowl, “Then what is it, honey? He’s been acting strange ever since he got here. He’s distant, tends to keep himself close to you, and then there was what happened today…is there something wrong?”

Anne didn’t really want to, but knew that she had to, “Um…there’s something wrong with Sprig…”

---

Sprig had made an attempt to calm down from the day's events. He simply found himself lying on the beanbag in Anne’s room, trying to decompress from everything that the day threw at him. He felt that it dragged on forever, but as the sun began to set over the horizon, he was just glad that he survived another day. Internally, he did feel bad. He did not mean to be standoffish and aloof to the Boonchuys, who provided them with a home and food while they searched for a way back to Amphibia. It was a primal survival instinct within himself.

Knock-knock-knock!

Sprig groaned and got up, “I told you, Anne...” He reached for the doorknob, “I’m perfectly fi-”

Sprig froze, because it wasn’t Anne at the door. It was her mother. Upon seeing her, he fell back and scrambled to the closet door. His breathing increased, his hand falling onto his chest as if he were trying to prevent it from leaping forth from his chest.

“Sprig, please,” Mrs. Boonchuy tried to reason, “It’s okay. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re just saying that!” Sprig blurted, “You just want me to let my guard down, and then, pot time!”

Scrambling to his feet, he ran towards the closet door and shuttered himself in. Mrs. Boonchuy hung her head in shame. 

Maybe I should have just given him his space… 

However, she remembered everything that her daughter had told her. About how much the young boy had gone through. The horrors he saw, the near-death experiences he suffered, the betrayals he endured. She had to make an effort to make him see that she could trust her and her family. Sighing, she trudged towards the closet door. Laying her hand on the old, rotting wood, she closed her eyes.

“Anne told me what you have been through, Sprig…”

Silence. Maybe he was listening, maybe he wasn’t, but as long as heard her, it might have been enough.

“I…” She started, her voice hitching, “I cannot even imagine how you must feel, so I won’t bother to guess, but... no child should have gone through what both you and your sister have. Children are supposed to be full of love and life, not being afraid for their very lives. You’vebeen hurt, Sprig…”

She searched for the right words. She did not have time to prepare for this; she was merely winging it.

“All I want for you…” Mrs. Boonchuy laid her forehead on the door, “is to be happy. I want you to not be afraid of myself and my family. I…I understand it won’t be easy and that you’ll probably need a lot of time, but I hope…” She wrung her hands, “I hope someday, you can trust us.”

She had no words left to give. She had said her piece; she had only hoped that Sprig had taken her words to heart. Turning on her heel, she proceeded to the door.

“How much did she tell you?”

Turning around, Mrs. Boonchuy saw that Sprig had opened the door a crack. He had his eyes down and hands behind his back. She tried to approach him, but he reflexively curled himself into a ball and slumped against the retractable door. Taking the hint, the older woman simply sat down against the other closet door and hugged her knees to her chest. Pursing her lips, she delved into everything that her daughter had told her.

As Sprig listened, he noticed that Anne had hidden the more specific details regarding Marcy, Sasha, and Andrias behind more generalized terms like “friends,” or “allies.” He knew that Anne was determined not to reveal the most sensitive details of her time in Amphibia, which was probably still for the best. Mrs. Boonchuy even said that Anne had told her what happened to his parents, something which caused the tears to flow once more. Mrs. Boonchuy drew back, ashamed of herself for making him cry.

“I’m sorry…” she choked back tears, “I…I didn’t mean anything by it. I just…I can’t imagine going through something like that at such a young age. Growing up without parents.”

“I’ve got a parent,” Sprig declared, holding back his own sorrow, “His name’s Hopediah Plantar. He…”

A sharp gasp of sorrowful pain reverberated from his chest, “H-He did his very best…r-raising us…” His guilt came forth. He knew that he was being too hard on Anne for something she had no part in, “L-L-Like you did…w-with Anne.”

That did it. The tears came forth from Mrs. Boonchuy’s eyes, “T… Thank you.”

They just sat there for a moment, not saying a word. Their tears did all the talking for them in that instant, “I know…” Sprig began, “I realise you guys mean well, but…”

“But,” she finished for him, “you’re scared of what happened to you happening again…”

Sprig looked down and nodded sorrowfully.

“I understand…” sighed Mrs. Boonchuy, “I can’t change what happened to you, but I will be there for you whenever you need me. I don’t care if it takes a month, a year, a hundred years! Whenever you are ready, I will be there for you. No matter what.”

Mrs. Boonchuy laid her hand on the carpet and exhaled. She placed her head in her other hand and began to compose herself. It wasn’t until she felt the touch of a small hand that she snapped out of her daze. She looked down to her other hand and saw a tiny, pink appendage atop her own. She looked up, and for the first time in a while, met Sprig’s gaze. She had never seen such beautiful eyes before.

“Thank you.”

Their gaze was brief, a fleeting moment in time before Sprig looked back down once again. However, in the darkness of her daughter’s bedroom, Mrs. Boonchuy saw the smallest of smiles on the pink frog’s face; and her own smile shone through, their hands still in each other’s reach.

Notes:

Awwww! Now wasn't that heartwarming?

This was a particularly favourite chapter of mine to write, as I always wanted to see just how the main character dealt with the stress and the trauma that they have endured. However, it's a Disney show, so you gotta set some expectations.

Also, we have officially brought on Milasia as our editor! I glanced over a few of her stories and was impressed by her writing style. MagicMan and myself were able to edit the rest of this chapter, so she will get her start in Chapter 10! So now, we have a writer, a creative consultant, and an editor. By the time this story is over, we just might have enough crew members to rival the actual show. XD

Reviews and constructive criticism are welcome, and I will see all of you in the next chapter!

This is TheAllTimeGreatest signing off!

Chapter 11

Summary:

The Core forces Marcy to confront the facade that is her clumsy nature, and it all comes back to her parents. Anne grows annoyed with her mother's constant coddling, until the older woman reveals how she coped with her daughter's disappearance, and the painful months that followed.

Notes:

At the time of this publishing, today is officially the day.

It is so crazy to think how three years ago, Amphibia had just begun. I found myself rewatching the first episode on YouTube over and over again when it was released a few days ahead of the television premiere. I loved everything about the show, from its characters to its worldbuilding.

And today, it all ends. I'm not ready, folks. I'm really not.

I wanted to get this chapter up before the show premiered here in the United States. This chapter is going to delve more into the exact nature of Marcy's clumsiness. It's something MagicMan and I came up with as it relates to this version of Marcy. And, we've got some more trauma to talk about back on Earth, this time, concerning Anne's mother.

I'm starting to think I'm being too hard on these characters.

Anyway, before I get off track, let's jump right into things! Enjoy!

Under the bright purple luminescence of the far-stretching sky above her, Marcy fiddled with her hands, having grown undeniably bored after walking for miles on end. Her feet had actually begun to hurt her, something she did not think was possible in her subconscious. The Core’s female manifestation was guiding her along the way, her hands folded and her form perfect. She did not seem the least bit tired.

“Uh,” Marcy piped up, “not to be a pest or anything, but do you think that maybe we could do that warping thing you did when we first met? You know, the one you used to get out of the lake?”

The woman giggled, “I could, dear Marcy, but someone who is not used to it could suffer negative repercussions from it. Also, I thought you would like the leisurely walk. Surely, a girl with a bright eye for every wonder of the world would admire the beauty of this land.”

Marcy smiled a bit, something she did not let The Core see. “I mean, I do, don’t get me wrong. It’s just that my feet are actually starting to kill me over here!”

“There will be no further need to complain, child,” The Core said, as the two reached an opening in the land. Marcy looked up and gasped at the sight before her. Situated on a small grassy knoll, nestled into the rising faces of the multi-colored badlands, was a small, two-story house. It had faded green roof tiles and a small fountain just beside the porch. The stone tiger statues acted almost as protectors to ward off predators. To anyone else, it was just an ordinary home. But to Marcy…

“Is that…?”

“It is, Marcy,” The Core said, as Marcy walked up beside her. “Your home always did have a warm, cozy feeling to it.”

“It’s alright, I guess,” Marcy quietly muttered. She saw that the lights were on through the windows. She took a step further and raised a hand to her forehead. "Wait, is someone inside?"

“Only one way to find out,” The Core motioned for her to step inside. Cautiously, Marcy stepped up to the front door and reached for the doorknob.

“No!”

“You’re ruining my life!”

Marcy pulled her hand away and her eyes slammed shut. The last time she was here, it ended with the news that had started this entire ordeal. The fateful news that set into motion the discovery of her true heritage, her true place in the universe.

And yet, it was a moment she had dreaded for a while now.

“It is ok, Marcy.”

No sooner did she hear those comforting words of reassurance did she find a hand on her shoulder, The Core at her side.

“I will be here, every step of the way.”

Marcy smiled. For a hive mind, the Core did have a way of calming her down in the worst times. With renewed confidence, she opened the door, but the second she did, she was blinded by a white light.

Before she knew it, Marcy found herself staring up at the ceiling. Holding her head, she groaned as she sat upright. Shaking the cobwebs off, she stood up, but right away, something felt particularly off. First of all, she was barely tall enough to reach the doorknob. The girl cocked her head to the side before looking down at her feet.

Did I shrink or someth-

Her inner voice stopped when she saw that she was wearing dark green Crocs, shoes that she had not worn since she was a little kid. Like, “little,” as in before she had even met Sasha. Turning around, she found a picture of her family that they had taken just after she was born. The glass in front of the picture was enough that she was able to make out her reflection, which made her gasp.

In front of her was not the 13-year old Newtopian warrior she had come to know over the last five months. Instead, her hair was up in a topknot, tied together by a red, yellow, and green hair tie. She had on a pair of dark green overalls, over a light green t-shirt. Her face was smooth and soft, the baby fat lingering around her cheeks.

“What the he-” Marcy slammed both hands on her mouth, her eyes growing wide. The high-pitched, squeaky voice of her youth was the sound that had left her lips. She did not understand what the heck was going on! 

“Hey, where are you?” she called out. “This isn’t funny!”

Marcy walked into the kitchen, where she saw her mother, a fairly young woman with a facial complexion just like her own. Her hair was tied up in a bun, and she wore a light blue blouse, a black sport coat, and a long, black skirt. She was sitting at the table, a pile of papers scattered around her, with a calculator she was rapidly typing away at.

“I’m telling you, Marie,” her mother was talking on her phone, which was nestled between her shoulder and ear, her head tilted at an angle to hold it in place while her hands were busy, “you can claim all your work assets as deductibles. Lord knows how many times you used them this month alone. They can be written off without any problem.”

Marcy simply stared at her mother. She was an accountant, and tax season was always a busy time for her. She had a ton of clients who relied on her, which left little time for her to pay attention to even her young child. Such memories made Marcy look down at her feet and rub her arm. So lost in her thoughts, she did not even see her mother stand up and walk across the kitchen until she was right over her.

“What I’m saying is-WHOA!”

Marcy looked up with time to spare, and she dove out of the way of her mother’s legs. The older woman stumbled until she caught herself on the countertop. Her phone slipped from her grasp and landed on the tiled floor with a loud clatter. 

“Marcy!” her mother scolded, whirling around on her with a scowl. “What have I told you about wandering around the kitchen while mommy is working, young lady?!”

Marcy opened her mouth to say something, but for some reason, she found herself with tears in her eyes. She didn’t like it when her mother yelled at her like this, especially when she was little. After all, it was an honest accident.

“I-I’m sorry!” cried Marcy, to which her mother just tutted dismissively and went to pick up her phone from the floor.

“No, it’s fine, Marie,” her mother said, before she wordlessly motioned for her daughter to go into the living room. The little girl scattered to the couch and climbed up on the sofa. She pulled her legs up to her chest and sunk back. Her mother was always like this. It was almost as if she prioritized her work over her own daughter.

The front door opened, perking her up. From beyond the entrance to the living room, she saw her father, dressed in his best suit and tie for work. He worked a soul-crushing desk job at Daintree, meaning he usually had to be up and out of the house by the crack of dawn, working 12 to 16 hours on and the same amount of time off. He dropped his briefcase and shoes by the door and walked into the living room. His shoulders hung and his eyes were heavy. He crashed himself on the recliner next to the couch and laid out in an attempt to decompress.

Marcy, without even thinking, crawled over to her recliner and clambered on top of his belly. The man exhaled sharply in surprise, looking up to see his young daughter looking down at him. Despite how exhausted he clearly was, he was able to offer a weary smile back at her.

“Hey honey,” he said, “how was school today?”

“It was great, daddy!” Marcy said excitedly, “Can we play now?”

“Now Marcy,” he sighed, straightening himself up in the chair, “you know how tired daddy is when he gets off work.”

Marcy felt her lip quiver, almost instinctively, “But…” she started, “but it's like I never see you anymore...”

Mr. Wu scooped her up and set her down carefully on the floor. “We’ll play later. Ok?" He told her, perhaps a tad sterner than he intended. "Go and play with one of your video games or something."

Later seldom ever came, she had long since noted. To her father's credit, her did try to put time aside to play with her on his days off, but his lack of energy from a long week's work often put the kibosh on those plans.

When Marcy returned to the couch, she looked back at the recliner and saw the rhythmic rise and fall of her father’s chest. He was out like a light. She curled herself up in a ball and choked back a little sob. 

A comforting hand placed itself around Marcy's shoulder. She didn't need to look up to know The Core's female manifestation was now sitting next to her, gazing down at her with a tender, almost maternal expression.

“It’s such a sad thing to see,” she meditated, pulling her in closer, “A mother whose work took precedence over caring for her little one, and a father whose job made him apathetic to everything around him, including his own daughter.”

Marcy looked down at her huddled knees. She couldn't explain why she was feeling this way. It was as if her five-year-old emotions were overpowering her. She rubbed her eyes and looked back up at her.

“Why…” she whimpered, “why are you doing this?”

“I told you that you needed to learn more about yourself if you were ever going to see your vision of the future come true, did I not?”

"Yeah..."

Gently, as a mother would their child, the woman took her hand and guided her off the couch. Now that they were seemingly unseen by the Wu parents, The Core brought Marcy's attention back to the two. “This is what I was talking about. As a child, you were neglected by the two people who should have been giving you the love that, as their own flesh and blood, you deserved. Instead, they focused more on themselves.”

Marcy almost caught herself crying again; she refused to be seen as weak. It was hard for her to disagree with The Core's analysis on her early life. Her parents were often so wrapped up in their careers, it wouldn't be too far off if they actually forgot they had a child from now and then.

“I just…” Marcy shuffled her feet along the carpet, “I just wanted them to pay attention to me, for once.”

“I know, dear Marcy.” The woman knelt down to her eyeline. “And that lack of attention drove you to gain their attention, one way or another. Right?”

“What are you getting at?”

The Core smiled, and she shimmered in a bright light, disappearing before the girl. As the light died down, Marcy saw that she could now see the top of the table that held her television, something she couldn’t do when she was five. She approached the television and - like with the picture in the hallway - saw her reflection. This time, she had two pigtails hanging behind her ears, and her overalls had been replaced by a pair of plain blue jeans. She kept her lime green shirt.

When she went to touch her face, she found herself with a paper in her right hand. Upon further inspection, she saw that it was a certificate labeled ‘Young Scientist Award’. It all came back to her now. She had received the award in second grade after she had persuaded her school to let her enter the fifth grade science fair. She wasn’t eligible to win an actual award, but the school had recognized her with the honor, much to the adulation of her fellow scientifically inclned peers.

“Marcy?”

She snapped out of her trance and looked towards the kitchen, where her mother and father were sat.

“Is everything alright?”

Suddenly, joy and excitement had built up in Marcy, and she found herself running over to the kitchen table and jumping onto her seat.

“Marcy!” her mother scolded again. “What have we discussed about running in the house?”

“Look look look!” Marcy ignored her mother and placed the certificate on the table. “The school gave me this for my science project!”

Her father was deep into a newspaper, though his eyes peered over the top with vague interest.

“Hmm? Oh yeah, science project. Uh, how’d that go again, dear?”

Innocent little Marcy just laughed, “They gave me an award, Daddy!” She pushed the certificate forward so that it was practically under his nose. This prompted her father to reluctantly lower his paper so to get a proper look. Judging by the smile livening up his otherwise haggard expression, he looked quite impressed.

“I would have won first place if they had let me.” Marcy crossed her arms and pouted. “But noooooooo! They said it would be ‘unfair’.” 

“Hmph, figures.” Her mother scoffed, shaking her head. “Schools these days never reward truly hard-working young people.”

“I promise I tried hard, Mom. I really did!”

For once, her mother actually smiled and placed her hand over her daughter’s. “I know you did, sweetie. Just make sure you keep this up. It's very important..."

Marcy could have stood there and revelled in their praise for ages until she felt another hand on her shoulder and an all too familiar voice whispered in her ear.

“Notice it was only in the moments where you demonstrated your academic excellence that your mother paid you any mind.”

“Hey!” Marcy protested in her eight-year old voice. “That’s not true!”

“Oh, it isn’t?”

“Yes!” Marcy held her hands on her hips defiantly. “Whenever I was sick, or I got hurt, my parents were always there for me!”

The woman squinted her eyes, almost annoyed at Marcy’s whining. 

“Hm, I seem to remember a confrontation you had one day with a certain girl…”

Marcy cocked her head to the side. “What are you talking about?”

“What was her name again?” The Core obviously knew the answer, but she seemed to like the theatrics. “You know, red hair? Freckles? Boorish demeanor?”…”

The color drained from Marcy’s face. 

No, she thought, not that day. She wouldn’t.

“Oh right!” The Core exclaimed. “Maggie!”

She frogging would…

“You probably didn’t even know you had it in you. After all, all you wanted was some attention, right?”

Marcy was dead silent, but The Core was persistent. “You remember how it all went down? Allow me to refresh your memory.”

Suddenly, the woman shoved Marcy backwards. She landed with a thud, but it wasn’t the thud of an oak kitchen table. Rather, it was the soft, dense feel of grass. Marcy sat up with a huff. She looked down, and, like the first time she woke up in her own mind, she found herself dressed in her school uniform; hoodie and all. She darted her head around and saw that she was outside her school.

Students were walking around her as it seemed that the school day had ended. She scrambled to her feet and brushed the grass off her skirt. Looking up, she saw a set of braided pigtails by the sidewalk bench. There was no denying who that was. The Irish girl was sitting with her own circle of friends, seemingly just making idle chit chat as they waited for the bus. Marcy darted her head around, trying to find some means of escaping this nightmare.

Uh uh, I don’t think so!

The woman’s voice reverberated inside her head, and before she knew it, the environment once again began to bend and twist in front of her. She felt like she was being pulled forward against her own will. When the world around her stopped spinning, she found herself standing directly behind the bench where Maggie sat. She stood rigid, figuring that she could stop this whole ordeal by not saying anything.

“Hey Maggie!”

Marcy didn’t even realize she was talking until she heard those words with her very own ears. Marcy suddenly clamped both hands down on her mouth. It was as if it had a mind of its own.

“Ugh,” Maggie groaned, taking a sip of her energy drink, “go away, Wu.”

Then, her hands were forcibly pried from her own mouth by an invisible force, and she found herself talking once more, “Pee Yew!” Marcy blurted, waving her hand under her nose. “Geez, when’s the last time you took a shower?”

Maggie continued paying the girl no mind. Marcy Wu was definitely not worth her time.

“What, got nothing to say?” Marcy spat out. Then, she noticed her energy drink, “Ugh, how can you drink that stuff? Is sugar all that you consume on a daily basis? It must be the reason for that muffin top of yours!”

From behind, Marcy could tell that Maggie was getting more and more riled up. The redhead’s shoulders scrunched up with annoyance, her grip on the can growing tighter. 

What the…? What’s going on? It’s like I’m not in control of my actions…

On the inside, Marcy was dreading what was coming. She knew exactly how this ended, and it wasn’t pretty. And yet, she can’t stop it, no matter what she does. Seeing Maggie’s reaction, she went for the coup de grace. 

“But I get it. I really do, Maggie,” Marcy started, and then went for the kill, “If my mother left me because I drove her up the wall, I’d be depressed and eat myself into a diabetic coma too!”

The girls around Maggie gasped. The redhead’s eyes went blank for a moment, and her face turned as red as a tomato. Marcy winced. People knew that Maggie’s mother had run out on the family when she was six, but no one knew why. Every story about it was vastly different from the last, and everyone knew the subject was sensitive to Maggie, so no one was crazy enough to bring it up.

Marcy watched as Maggie polished off the energy drink she had in her hand. She crushed it and handed it to one of her friends, who ran to discard it (and perhaps to get really far away from the boiling mad Maggie). She cracked her knuckles.

“So, it has to be that way, huh?”

The next fifteen minutes passed by agonizingly slow. Each passing second was filled with pain, suffering, and pure torture. So many punches, kicks, and blows landed in such a short timeframe. By the time it was all over, Marcy found herself headfirst in a trashcan. Her legs, arms, and torso were covered in cuts, scrapes, and bruises. Old wrappers and disgusting bottles were either stuck to her or had stained her clothing. Her wounded pride wasn’t doing so hot either.

“Wow. Now that was difficult to watch.”

And just like that, the rage returned in full force.

In spite of her many injuries, Marcy shot up out of the trashcan and lunged at the woman, and simply phased through her like nothing. She landed unceremoniously face first on the asphalt.

“You just watched?!” Marcy yelled, clawing her way to her knees. “You did nothing to help me?!”

“Dear Marcy…”

“DON’T YOU ‘DEAR MARCY’ ME!” Marcy yelled, no one around to hear them. “WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?! MAKING ME RELIVE THESE…BAD MEMORIES?!”

“Child…” The Core stated, a hand extended in an attempt to calm her.

“NO!” Marcy was having none of it, “TELL ME WHY YOU ARE DOING THIS! DO YOU JUST GET OFF ON SEEING ME IN PAIN?!”

In a split second, Marcy found the words of pointed anger stuck in her throat. The woman had her hand - now a sharp, pitch black claw - wrapped around Marcy’s throat. It seemed as if one squeeze could crush her larynx. Gone were the features reminiscent of her mother, replaced by a dark black, tar-like substance. Its body was long, narrow, sinewy, and frightening. It towered over Marcy, bearing a set of six orange eyes, and black tentacles dangling from her head.

“Do not forget who you are talking to, girl.”

Its voice was low, growling, and threatening. It was almost as if it was the amalgamation of multiple ones spliced together. Marcy did not need to verbally reply (not like she could, anyway), her eyes told the whole story. And just as quickly as the woman had transformed, she gradually transformed back to the sweet, innocent, dainty woman that resembled her mother.

“I apologize,” her voice was soft once more, “but I need you to listen to me. Will you?”

Marcy just stood there. It wasn’t like she had a choice at this point. 

“I’ll take your silence as a yes,” The Core began. “Do you recall our first session? When we journeyed back to see your ancestors?”

Marcy nodded, and the woman paced in front of the girl, “Remember when I said that you needed to conquer not only your enemies, but yourself?”

Marcy remembered it as if it were yesterday, and in the timeless realm of her own mind, it might as well have been.

“Each of these experiences have shown who you truly are: a petulant, whining, needy child.”

Marcy was floored by that assessment. Her lips pursed and she chose her next words very carefully, “That…that’s not true.”

“Is it not?” she asked, “You claim that I am traumatizing you with these experiences, but did you not live them yourself? Do you suppose that I created them to receive joy from watching such torture? As you have clearly seen, I can do such a thing, but I chose not to.”

“Why?” Marcy had to ask, to which The Core laughed.

“I find life to be the best teacher at times,” the woman confirmed. “And as such your life has shown me that you are all the things I described you as. You constantly yearn for the attention of parents who, quite clearly, do not care for you.”

Marcy wanted to cry. She did not want to admit that maybe, just maybe, The Core actually had a point.

“Whenever you cannot get their attention,” the woman stated, “you purposefully put yourself in situations where they can no longer ignore your suffering. Don’t you remember what happened after this particular incident?”

Before Marcy could answer, she found herself slumping her shoulders and walking down the sidewalk. Well, ‘walk’ wasn’t the right word. It was more like a limp, and a really bad one at that.

She knew that The Core was doing this to her, forcing her to confront her mother in this state. 

After a short time, she found herself at her front door and was compelled to open it. Dropping her bookbag on the floor in the hallway, she staggered into the kitchen. Her mother was where she always was: at the kitchen table. She was once again on the phone, and she had apparently heard Marcy drop her bookbag.

“One second, Jeannie,” her mother said, before she took her ear off the phone and prepared to look up. “Marcy, what did I tell you about leaving your book bag on the-”

The moment she saw her daughter, she couldn’t even move. A gasp escaped her lips, and the phone slipped from her fingers, clattering to the floor. In one swift motion, she stood up and rushed to her daughter.

“MARCY!” Her mother cried. “What happened to you?! Did you fall down the stairs at school again?”

Marcy could not help but cry, collapsing into her mother’s arms, who took her without hesitation. Snuggling into the scruff of her mother’s neck, she told her everything that happened.

“Oh Marcy, honey,” her mother began to cry herself, and brushed some loose strands of hair from her daughter’s bruised and bloodied face. Caressing her cheek with her thumb, she guided her to the couch, “It’ll be alright, sweetie.”

As Marcy laid on the couch, she heard footsteps coming down the stairs, heavy and lethargic. Her father appeared on the bottom landing, rubbing his eyes with one hand and loosening his tie with the other, “Ugh, what’s going on now?”

The sound of soft crying was what made the man drop his hand, and his eyes saw the horrific sight in front of him. Immediately snapping to attention, he ran to his daughter’s side, “Oh my God, what happened?”

His wife told him everything. At once, they took Marcy up to her room and laid her on her bed. When that happened, time seemed to pass by much faster, no doubt thanks to The Core’s control of the entire memory. Within that time, she saw her parents bringing her meals and snacks, helping her with physical therapy, reading to her at night before bed, and just being there for her. Then, Marcy found herself being pulled to her feet and out of bed. The woman was there, and as Marcy looked down, she saw she had no more bruises or cuts or scrapes. Everything was healed, or at least that's how it all seemed on the surface.

“I…” The tears began to fall again, “I just wanted them to be normal parents, for once. To care for me. To look after me. Not just treat me like I’m someone that they can live so…vicariously through.”

The Core placed her hand on her shoulder as Marcy continued, “They always put so much pressure on me to be the best so I can be better off than they were! Did they ever just…consider how, some days, maybe I just wanted a frickin’ hug every once in a while?!”

Marcy kicked her wastepaper basket in a rage, sending it flying across the room. Unbeknownst to her, the sky outside began to grow gray, and the wind picked up.

“Why does everyone think that I ran to Anne and Sasha?!” Marcy threw her hands up, “Because they felt more like family to me than my own damn parents! They were the ones who picked me up when I felt down. They listened to me ramble on and on when my parents just saw me as an annoyance! They didn’t berate me for being interested in RPG’s and fantasy games! They loved me for who I truly was, and I loved them!”

Now thunder began rolling in. All the while this was occurring, The Core just had a smile on its face.

It’s happening, it thought, she’s finally taking control.

“If I could, I would’ve left my parents for Anne and Sasha a long time ago!”

The house began to shake, and before she knew it, the roof had ripped open; the harsh orange and purple sky above flashed with bolts of lightning.

“THEY STUCK BY ME, NO MATTER WHAT I DID!” Marcy yelled, as the walls began to shatter around her, “I TRUSTED THEM! I CONFIDED EVERYTHING IN THEM!”

The woman’s grin grew wider, wilder, more sinister, as Marcy dropped to her knees. She dug her fingers into the carpet, and it disintegrated around her. 

“I GAVE THEM EVERYTHING!! I LOVED THEM, AND THEY TURNED THEIR BACKS ON ME?! WHO DO THOSE JERKS THINK THEY ARE?!!”

With every fiber of her being, she let out an animalistic, primal scream of rage. Her voice reverberated through the sky. She raised her fists above her head, then, with a raggled, croaking cry, she threw them down to the floor. The shockwave that followed obliterated everything around them. The remains of the house dissipated into ashes that scattered into the wind. Marcy found herself on the earthen ground, the woman cautiously approaching her.

She saw that Marcy was crying. Her body began to shudder as she struggled to breathe. Kneeling to Marcy’s level, the woman lifted her chin up and stared into her red, tear-stained eyes. 

“This is good, Marcy,” she said, Marcy sniffling. “Let all of it out. There is no need to be holding this all in anymore.”

Marcy just nodded, letting The Core take her into her arms. 

“I’m a baby, aren’t I?”

“Yes, you are Marcy.” 

Marcy just sighed, “I’m weak. I’m just a weak, helpless girl, and all this time, I didn’t even realize it.”

The woman looked Marcy in her eyes, “I needed you to confront that part of you. I would never have done any of this if it didn’t serve a purpose. In order for our vision to become a reality, you must recognize that being honest with yourself is the only way for you to move forward with what we have planned.”

Marcy still looked down at the ground. She basically admitted that she was just a child in front of the greatest minds Amphibia had ever bore. She was so used to being the smart one, the person everyone would go to when they had a problem. 

Now, she was just an average person - in the eyes of The Core.

“And you are not weak.”

That perked Marcy up, “Wait, what? You just said that-“

“It takes strength to admit your faults,” The Core interrupted. “To try and improve yourself and move forward. You are capable of such, Marcy.”

Marcy smiled, and the warmth it brought to her brightened the woman’s aura just as much. Both of them got to their feet.

“However, it is not over,” The Core said, “there is still much to confront.”

Marcy cocked her head, “Like what?”

“All in due time, Marcy,” The Core stated, as she started to fade away. “All in due time.”

The woman dissipated into thin air, leaving Marcy to ruminate on her words.

---

On Boonchuy loved her daughter. There was never any doubt about the validity of that statement.

Sure, she proved to be a handful for her when she was little, but On Boonchuy still loved her little bundle of joy regardless. Her high-spirited energy reminded the older woman of herself when she was younger. Because of that, it made sense that once she got her daughter back from the grasp of an inter-dimensional marshland of talking frogs, she would find it hard to even let her out of her sight.

Something that Anne found to be a bit worrisome.

The worst was the first few days of her return, where her mother had been combing her hair while she slept, or when she would pop up in the bathroom while the teen was brushing her teeth. After Anne’s encounter at the supermarket, and her subsequent proving to her mother that she was responsible enough, On decided to let up a little.

And yet, old habits die hard.

Anne was playing a fighting game on her GameStation 5, locked in a heated confrontation with Polly (although Anne couldn’t help but wonder exactly how she was able to play without fingers).

“Ha! I got you now!” Polly bragged, mashing her stubs onto the controller’s buttons.

“That’s what you think!” Anne smirked, executing a combo that rendered Polly’s fighter immobile.

“Player 1 wins!” The game’s announcer said, to which Anne shot up off the couch to do a victory dance.

“WOOOO!” Anne yelled. “Yeah, baby!”

Polly pouted and groaned, and, while Anne was doing her victory dance, footsteps could be heard bounding down the stairs. At the bottom of the landing, On Boonchuy, hair half combed and still in her pajamas, ran into the living room.

“What was that?!” On exclaimed. “I heard Anne yelling!”

Anne stopped her victory dance and looked at her mother with worry, “I’m fine, Mo-“

“Are you hurt?!” On grabbed her daughter by the shoulder and began inspecting her for wounds, “Do you need first aid? A bandaid? A hug?”

“Mom!” Anne whined, pushing her mom’s hands off her shoulders. “I’m fine! Don’t worry.”

“Worry? I’m not worrying! Who’s worrying?” On chuckled, trying to play off the episode. Anne awkwardly followed her mother’s lead, whilst Polly was just weirded out.

“I’m…going to go back to getting ready for the day.” On scuttled out of the room and back up the stairs. Anne flopped lazily back onto the couch.

“That was…odd.” Polly broke the air, to which Anne sighed and crossed her arms.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Anne said, letting her arms droop to the side. “I thought she had let up a bit after the first few days.”

“I mean, being gone for, like, months without knowing where you went might do that to you, Anne,” Polly stated, matter-of-factly.

“The small frog is right, Anne.”

Anne’s eyes drifted to her father, who had just walked into the room, “Dad, were you eavesdropping on us?”

“Hey,” Mr. Boonchuy raised his hands in defense, “I just happened to be in the kitchen at the same time. Doesn’t make it eavesdropping.”

Anne chuckled while she rolled her eyes, adjusting her posture and sitting upright on the couch.

“But I am serious, Anne,” Mr. Boonchuy clarified. “You have no idea what your mother has been through these last five months.”

Anne looked down in guilt after taking in her father’s words. She could only imagine what she had been through in all that time.

Maybe I should be a bit more considerate…

“I’m…I’m sorry.”

Mr. Boonchuy approached his daughter, and reassuringly placed a hand on her shoulder, “It’s ok, Anne. Just give your mother time. After all she’s gone through, she needs it.”

A soft smile adorned Anne’s face. The two shared a moment together until Polly broke the silence, “Uh, not to break up a touching moment or anything, but are we going to have that rematch? I need to prove myself the rightful champion!”

“Now hold on, small frog,” Mr. Boonchuy said before jumping on the couch and grabbing the controller from Polly, “I need to show my daughter that I am the superior fighter!”

Anne flashed a wicked smile, “Oh yeah, we’ll see about that!”

The two jumped into the next fight, with Polly cheering them both on. While the two of them jostled for video game bragging rights, On had made her way back down the stairs, this time prepared for the day. She exhaled an anxious sigh as she looked at her daughter.

---

Later that day, Anne found herself at Thai Go, having to help her mother with the lunch rush. Luckily, the Plantars had also tagged along, which made the afternoon service go by much quicker. Sprig decided to stay out of the kitchen in light of the incident two days prior, but he helped as much as he could; taking orders and carrying trays. Hop Pop helped Mrs. Boonchuy out in the kitchen, and the older woman was amazed at the frog’s cooking skills. Polly helped out in both the kitchen and the dining area, doing whatever she could to keep things running as smoothly as possible.

“We need three more orders of Kay-ow Soy, and two more orders of Pad Won Seyn!” Sprig said, poking his head through the window to the kitchen. “Did I say those right?”

“It’s ‘Khao Soi,' and ‘Pad Woon Sen,’ but close enough,” Anne shrugged.

“Progress!” Sprig cheered before heading back to the dining room.

On stole glances at her daughter throughout the day, making sure she did not hurt herself as she swung various knives and other blades around. She could not shake this feeling. Her anxiety resulted in a few cuts and burns, but nothing too serious. 

“Mrs. Boonchuy?” The ailing voice, coupled with the tugging on her sleeve, drew her attention back to Hop Pop, who was waving an order in her face. “We’ve got an order for Grilled Lemongrass Chicken. Sounds good.”

“Sorry, Hop Pop, I’m kinda busy,” On said, motioning towards her daughter, “I’m sure you and Anne can handle it.”

“No problem, Mrs. B. I won’t let you down,” Hop Pop salulted her before going over to Anne. “Anne, we got Grilled Lemongrass Chicken coming up!”

“You got it, HP!” Anne stated before she quickly washed her hands and put on a pair of disposable gloves. She grabbed a piece of raw chicken before adding spices to it and placing it on the open stovetop. Both she and Hop Pop worked their magic and before long, the chicken was beautifully golden brown and ready to be served.

“Just one last step…” Anne reached over to the side to grab a meat thermometer, until…

“Anne! We got a spill at Table 3! Where are the back up paper towels!”

It was Polly’s voice and it was enough to pull Anne’s attention away for a split second. When she thought that her hand was above the table right next to the stove, she reached out to grab the thermometer, but instead, her hand found itself right on the open stovetop.

Right away, Anne felt the scorching hot pain, and she let out a scream. She retracted her hand and grasped it.

“AHHHH! THAT BURNS!”

“Oh frog!” Hop Pop went to Anne’s side to check on her, but he was suddenly taken off his feet as a blur rushed past him. Dazed and confused, he fell to the floor in a heap. His eyes readjusted, and he saw Mrs. Boonchuy had rushed to her daughter’s side, and was clearly in a panic.

“Don’t worry Anne! Everything is going to be alright, honey!” On said as she was borderline hyperventilating. “Sit down, mommy will get the first aid kit! Hop Pop, can you handle the orders while I tend to my daughter?”

“I’m on it!” Hop Pop went into overdrive and began multitasking around the kitchen, flipping pans and stirring pots full of ingredients as On grabbed the first aid kit from off the wall. Polly, having seen what happened, rushed into the kitchen.

“Anne! Are you ok?!” Polly asked in a haste, as On took out a tube of neosporin. “How can I help?”

“Just go back outside!” On suddenly raised her voice, “You’ve done enough already!”

That hit Polly particularly hard. She felt like someone had taken the air from her lungs. Sulking, she hung her head and went back out to the dining room. Anne watched Polly and frowned.

“Mom, don’t blame Polly,” Anne softly said, “I wasn’t paying attention.”

On kept spreading the neosporin on Anne's hand before wrapping it in bandages, “You’ll be alright. Stay off your feet, honey. The Plantars and I will take care of everything.”

“But Mom,” Anne began, “I feel fine. It’s just a burn.”

“Nonsense,” On said, a soft smile on her face, “you’ve worked hard enough today. Now just relax. Here, have some Thai iced tea!”

Her mother handed her a cup full of the cool drink, complete with a bendy straw before returning to her cooking duties. Anne just sat in a chair in the corner of the kitchen as she watched her mother work herself up a sweat, the smoke and steam wafting through the air to create a thick smelling miasma. Occasionally, she would glance at Anne and smile at her, to which Anne nervously smiled back.

All while this was happening, Sprig had been hanging by the kitchen door, peeking in on the activity going on.

“Man, this kitchen is deadly.”

Anne sunk in her seat. Her mother had started doing it again.

---

The following day, Anne made good on an earlier promise to take the Plantars to Venice Beach. She wanted to put the events of yesterday’s incident at the restaurant behind her. 

When they arrived, the Plantars were amazed with how vast the Pacific Ocean was, and were treated to a hilarious sight when Sprig found out you couldn’t drink the water. 

In their disguises, Anne introduced them to beach volleyball, to which Polly excelled at, much to everyone’s surprise. Then, Hop Pop found himself up to his neck in sand after he had dozed off for a few minutes. His annoyed yells to free him went unheard when his grandkids ran off to the snack bar.

Anne showed Sprig how to use a bodyboard, and the pink frog found nothing more thrilling than riding a massive wave into the shore. Of course, he had to wipe out a few dozen times before he got there, but progress is progress.

As the day wound down, Anne and the Plantars found themselves relaxing on their beach towels. 

“Ah, this is the life, kids.” Hop Pop exhaled with content.

“Polly likes the beach,” the tadpole stated, digging her feet into the sand in circles.

“Aside from the stinging salt water on my tongue, this day was great!” Sprig exclaimed, to which everyone laughed.

“I always loved coming down to the beach with-“

Anne stopped herself before she said those names. She bit her tongue to avoid it, and lulled her head to the side, casting her eyes to the ground. The frogs took notice of this.

“It's ok, Anne,” Sprig reassured.

“I know, I know,” Anne waved off, “Still, it feels…weird coming here without them…”

“We’ll get them back, Anne,” Hop Pop said, “We promise. But for now, let’s just enjoy today while we have it.”

Anne smiled at the older frog’s positivity, “You guys are too upbeat sometimes.”

“Hey.” Polly sat up. “When you live in a world where everything is out to kill you, you gotta appreciate every day.”

The group laughed and went on enjoying the remaining minutes they had before they left for home. It wasn’t until they began to pack up that Anne felt a bony elbow poke her side.

“Uh, Anne?” Sprig pointed to a woman sitting by a bench near the ocean wall. “Is that your mom?”

Anne paled, turning to face where Sprig was pointing. She put her hand over her eyes to shield out the glaring sun. She could vaguely make out the outline of the woman. She was wearing a pair of yellow sunglasses, a red bandana, and was reading a book. Anne began trudging over to the woman, and as she got closer, her features became clearer. The crow’s feet by her eyes stood out, as well as her bushy hair. Anne gasped.

“Mom?!”

Her head shot up from her book, and when she caught sight of her daughter, beads of sweat began to trickle down her temples. Her mouth suddenly became dry, and she might as well have choked on her own tongue.

“W-W-Wha?!” On said, putting on a Valley Girl accent to try to hide her identity, “Yo-you must have mistaken me for someone else!”

“What are you even doing here?! I thought you were at the restaurant! Have you been spying on us all day?!”

“Uh…” On’s eyes darted back and forth, until she suddenly pointed behind her daughter. “Look! Is that young boy trapped in an umbrella?!”

Almost on instinct, Anne looked behind her, and surprisingly enough, she did actually see Sprig wrapped up tight in the semi-closed beach umbrella that they had brought with them, with Polly and Hop Pop doing their best to wrestle him free from its grasp. 

She turned back to the bench, but could only see her mother running as fast as her legs would carry her, presumably back to the minivan. Putting her hand to her forehead, she groaned as she walked back to the Plantars.

“Can this day get any worse?”

“Anne, help! The umbrella is trying to eat me!”

Anne sighed, because of course it could.

---

The front door slammed open and hit the coat rack behind it, which tumbled to the ground in front of one annoyed Anne Boonchuy. Trailing behind her were three very nervous looking Plantars. The sudden entrance of the four took Mr. Boonchuy by surprise, who was sitting on the living room couch reading a book.

“Anne!” Mr. Boonchuy cried as his book clattered to the floor. “You gotta stop making entrances like that.”

“Where’s Mom?” Anne plainly stated.

“She’s out back in the garden,” Mr. Boonchuy pointed to the sliding door leading to the backyard. He noticed the terse look on his daughter. “Is…everything ok?”

“Not really,” Anne trudged past her father and towards the back door.

“What’s wrong with her? Bad day at the beach?” he asked the Plantars. They caught themselves scratching their heads in embarrassment.

“You could say that…” Hop Pop began.

Anne stepped outside and saw her mother tending to their small garden. She was plucking plump tomatoes from the small trellis and putting them in a basket next to her. She turned to her daughter once she heard the sliding door open.

“Look Anne,” On showed her daughter the basket, “these tomatoes will go great with this week’s meals, don’t you think?”

Anne didn’t even bother with her mother’s question, “We need to talk. Now.”

On stood up and removed her gloves, going over to her daughter and softly placing a hand on her shoulder, “Of course, honey, whatever you want. What do you want to talk about?”

Anne lightly brushed away her mother’s hand, “All of this. The smothering, the coddling, the spying on me!”

On shrunk with each offense her daughter listed off until Anne grabbed her hand and pulled her inside. Shutting the door behind her, the two went back into the living room, where Mr. Boonchuy was rapt with attention as the Plantars told him what happened.

“Alright everyone, out,” Anne declared, “mom and I need to have a chat.”

“Honey,” Mr. Boonchuy stood up and went over to his wife, “is what the frogs telling me true? Did you actually follow them to the beach?”

On’s eyes darted back and forth, “Uh…”

“Don’t worry dad, I’m going to settle this,” Anne said.

Silence fell upon the room once again, until Sprig suddenly piped up, “Hey, did you guys hear about the new flavors at the ice cream shop down the street?”

“I thought that was just a myth!” Hop Pop said, playing along, to which he grabbed Polly and Sprig, the latter of which grabbed Mr. Boonchuy and hurried out the door. 

On sat on the couch, tracing her toes across the carpet. She fiddled with her wedding ring as Anne sat down next to her.

“Mom, you know we can’t keep avoiding this.” 

“I know,” On said, burying her face in her hands and taking her palms along her cheeks, “I know, honey.”

“What the heck’s going on, Mom? I thought you were going to ease up on the whole ‘helicopter mom,’ thing like we talked about,” Anne said, her tone noticeably more delicate.

On’s hands caressed her knees, tracing wrinkles in her pants, “Again, I know. It’s just…I can’t seem to back off.”

“Why not?” Anne asked, “Are you that worried about me?”

“Yes!” On suddenly blurted out. “Of course I am! You disappeared for five months! I thought you ran away!”

Anne could make out the faintest of tears in the corner of her mother’s eyes. She leaned on her knees, “I thought…I thought you hated me.”

All of the anger and annoyance from her mother’s antics the past few days suddenly washed away. In that instant, Anne felt like a real jerk for how she treated her mother. Despite everything, she knew she was doing it because she loved the fact that her daughter was back home. She yelled at her for it.

God, I’m such an idiot… she thought to herself

Then, she remembered what her father said yesterday morning. About how her mother had been anguishing in the months that she was gone. Anne twisted her ankles around themselves, knowing that what she was about to ask was going to be a sensitive topic. 

“Mom…” Anne began, tracing circles on the couch cushions, “what…what happened…after I went missing?”

It was as if On had been hit by a baseball bat. Her eyes widened, and all at once, she began to remember the days, weeks, and months after Anne’s disappearance.

“It…” On started, before grasping Anne’s hand, “It’s a long, long story…”

---

On had been on her feet for the better part of an hour. She had been texting Anne like crazy, hoping that her daughter would walk through the front door and that her family would give her the best surprise party ever.

Her husband had done his best to prevent her from boring a wide hole into the ground with her frantic pacing, but it wasn’t enough to calm her down.

“Don’t worry,” Mr. Boonchuy said, “she’ll show up.”

“I really hope so,” On stated, “otherwise, I’m going to need new Crocs.”

They were able to share a laugh together. Unfortunately, it was the last laugh they would share for a while.

By the time 10 PM rolled around, Anne had still not shown up. Her relatives that had arrived for her party, as well as local members of the Thai community who had watched Anne grow up, began to clamor around On, asking where her daughter was. Her face grew flustered, and she tried her best to calm everyone down.

A search party was organized. The entire group combed every inch of the neighborhood. No stone was left unturned, no street was left unsearched. By the time the clock struck midnight, many of the partygoers-turned-searchers headed back home.

Not On.

Her husband called her, telling her that everyone had gone home, and that she should do the same so they could call the police to file a report.

She refused. She would not rest until her daughter was found.

Unfortunately, her body disagreed with her. The sun came up the next morning at 6 AM. On carried her sleep-deprived body back home and nearly fell face first onto the living room carpet. An hour later, she and her husband had filed a missing persons report with the Los Angeles Police Department.

It wasn’t until the next day that she learned that her daughter’s friends, Sasha Waybright and Marcy Wu, had also gone missing; the same night as Anne, no less. It was such a puzzling coincidence to the police.

The decorations for Anne’s party remained up. On could not bear to take them down, and her husband couldn’t bring himself to do so either. The cake that she had delicately baked would remain in the fridge until it spoiled, to be replaced by another cake.

Just in case Anne came home.

---

The days turned into weeks. The police were stumped. It was as if the girls had disappeared without a trace. They learned they had been spotted earlier in the day at various locations, such as the MoonBucks, the mall, and the arcade, but after that, it was as if they had vanished into thin air.

When the police told the Boonchuys that they were calling off their search, it was an understatement to say that they had not taken it well.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU AREN’T LOOKING ANYMORE?!” On yelled into the lead detective’s face, her husband holding her back from leaping over the desk. 

“Ma’am, I know that you’re upset-“

“UPSET?!” On screamed incredulously. “OH, YOU HAVEN’T EVEN SCRATCHED THE SURFACE OF ‘UPSET’!”

Fellow officers had come to the detective’s aid, “Mrs. Boonchuy, it’s been a month and we haven’t recovered anything that might point us to where your daughter went. I’m sorry, but unless something comes up, we have no choice but to suspend our search.”

Mr. Boonchuy had coaxed his wife into sitting back down. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her cheeks red with anger and sadness.

“So that’s it?” Mr. Boonchuy spoke up, “You look for one measly month and, suddenly, you give up?”

“Sir, it’s not like that…” the detective stated, but Mr. Boonchuy interrupted him.

“Then tell me what it is like, because it sounds to me like you’ve given up on our daughter!”

As her husband and the officers debated, On slunk down in her seat. She threaded her bony hands through her thick locks of hair. She could not believe that any of this was happening.

“We’ll keep her case on file. That’s all we can do given the circumstances,” the detective finished, tapping a set of papers against his desk so they weren’t haphazardly sticking out.

“Oh great, I feel sooooo reassured by that!” 

She rarely yelled at the top of her lungs, but when On did, it was with venomous purpose, usually done only when she was beyond her limit. When she left the police station, she didn’t say a word as her husband quietly drove the family minivan home.

She didn’t have anything left to say anyway. 

---

Her daughter’s disappearance had taken a toll on every aspect of On’s life. She even found it difficult to get out of bed most mornings, her cat Domino the only thing that urged her to get up with her incessant meowing and licking.

She neglected her duties at the restaurant. The Thai community picked up the slack and were more than happy to assist the Boonchuys in their hour of need. The days that On did manage to drag herself to work were filled with aimless wandering and countless mistakes on her part, no doubt due to her distractions. It was only made worse by regular customers’ constant pestering regarding Anne.

She couldn’t take it anymore. That night was the first time she turned towards the bottle of wine in her liquor cabinet for comfort.

It certainly wouldn’t be the last.

---

It was in her inebriated stupor that she began emptying out the office on the second floor. She threw everything that wasn’t needed out on to the curb for whatever poor soul wanted it. She dedicated the now empty room to be her new ‘workout room’.

Whenever she felt stress, On found herself there, lost in her deep-seated sadness and depression. Her husband occasionally poked his head in, but did not dare disturb his wife while she was “working out” her stress. 

---

Food in tupperware was a constant sight in the Boonchuy residence after Anne vanished. The Thai community had rallied around the family in crisis and had been helping them in any way they could. 

On could barely eat most days. She managed a few forkfuls before she pushed the plate aside and went to sit down on the couch. She would pour out a glass of wine and would drink herself to sleep. Her husband often carried her to bed most nights, and would lay awake for many hours wondering what he could do.

It turned out that there wasn’t much he could do.

---

Some days, On would find herself in her daughter’s room, just standing there. She aimlessly stared at the wall at times, and other times, she would clean the room from floor to ceiling, making sure that the room was no worse than when her daughter left it.

She didn’t need Anne yelling at her that she moved her stuff.

---

As On was de-stressing in her workout room, she heard a loud yowl from downstairs, followed by a loud bang and a set of heavy footsteps.

“Domino!” On heard her husband yell, as she fiddled with a plush doll, “No! Get out of the fridge! Don’t eat that!”

The string she was sewing snapped, and it was as if the mother went into overdrive. Dropping the doll, she rushed out of the room and down the stairs. Clamoring into the kitchen, she saw her husband trying to pull their housecat from the fridge. From her angle, she saw vanilla cake and frosting coating Domino’s fur. 

“Domino! Let go! You’re going to upset-“

Mr. Boonchuy chose to glance away for a brief moment, but it could not have come at a worse time. He saw his wife’s eyes, and they were fraught with alarm. She dashed towards the refrigerator just as her husband yanked the cat from the dessert. She opened the fridge door wide, and saw that Domino had devoured nearly the entire cake, save for a small corner that had a small pink rose.

“Nononono!” On pressed her hands to her head. “Wait a minute…”

She suddenly stood up and grabbed the eggs from the refrigerator’s top shelf. The mixing bowl plopped down next to it, followed by a large bag of flour, some vanilla extract, milk, sugar, and unsalted butter.

“No worry!” On said, somewhat too happily. “I’ll just make another cake! Let’s see, do I have everything I need?”

Mr. Boonchuy reached out to his wife as she hastily grabbed everything she needed, throwing it all into the mixing bowl. 

“Honey…”

“No worries!” On exclaimed as she broke some eggs and threw in a stick of butter. “I can make this in half an hour flat!”

“Honey…”

“Gotta put in some baking flour…” On recklessly poured more flour than she needed into a dry measuring cup, then threw it on top of everything else, a cloud of dust flying out of the bowl. “There we go!”

“Honey!”

His cries were getting louder, but On paid no attention to them. Instead, she poured some vanilla extract into the bowl, along with some sugar, and began mixing it all together with a whisk.

“This is going to be so good!” On stared down at the yellow, thick liquid in the bowl, as her husband noticed the tears beginning to form in her eyes, “Anne is going to love this! It’s her favorite! I just have to finish it before she walks through the door!”

“ON!”

Mr. Boonchuy had seen enough. He grabbed his wife by the shoulders and jerked around around to face him. She dropped the whisk onto the countertop as some drops of cake batter splattered into the sink. 

“It’s ok!” he yelled, to which his wife looked towards the bowl, then back at her husband, and back to the bowl again.

“No!” She broke away from her husband, picked up the bowl and whisk, and feverishly stirred the bowl. “I need to make this cake! Who knows when Anne will come through the door?! She’ll want to celebrate her birthday! What kind of mother would I be if I didn’t give my daughter a good birthday?! I would be an awful mother! I need to give her a good cake! I need to give her a good birthday, so I won’t be a terrible mother!”

Tears fell freely into the cake batter, which was now dripping onto the floor as On was too wound up to notice she was tipping the bowl. Mr. Boonchuy placed his hands on her shoulders yet again, and his wife did not shrug them off. 

And all at once, she dropped the bowl to the floor and whisk to the floor, its contents splattering on the tile and drawers. He felt her body almost convulse in sorrow as she collapsed against her husband’s chest. On’s body trembled with each raspy breath she took, her tears flowing like twin waterfalls down her sunken cheeks.

“I-I-I..” On stuttered before she fell to her knees, wrapping her arms tightly around her husband, “I d-d-don’t want her to t-t-think I’m a terrible mother!”

It was all coming out. Months upon months of deep seated sadness. On banged her forehead against her husband’s shoulder, and he did his best to hold her close. His own tears began to flow, and for what seemed like forever, the two of them held each other in that kitchen, locked in a moment they would never forget.

---

“After that…” On began wrapping up her story, “Your father and I went to see a therapist. Given everything that happened, we thought it would be the best thing for us.”

A pained gasp drew On’s attention to her daughter, who was sobbing uncontrollably after hearing her mother’s story. Without warning, she threw her arms around her mother and hugged her tight. On felt like she was trying to squeeze the life out of her, but she knew Anne meant well.

“I…I didn’t know…” Anne cried, wiping her tears on her mother’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

On hugged her back while stroking her hair, “It’s ok, honey.” On took her daughter by the shoulders and held her at arm’s length, wiping away her tears. “After I found you in your room crying a few nights ago, I guess it… made me want to never let you go again.”

Anne nodded. She knew how attentive her mother was to her needs whenever she felt sad, but the episode in her bedroom after finding her prized tennis racket was one of pure anguish. It made sense for her to hold her close after such an incident, even if it meant being overbearing.

“I never should have yelled at you.” Anne wiped away her tears.

“I’ll admit, I was a bit too smothering.” On scratched the back of her head. “Maybe following you to the beach wasn’t the best idea.”

Mother and daughter shared a laugh. Not a forced one, but a genuine moment filled with happiness. Then, it was as if a lightbulb went off in Anne’s head. 

“Hey Mom, do you still have a cake in the fridge?”

She shook her head, “I stopped doing that after I started seeing the therapist. I figured it wasn’t healthy to keep doing it.”

“Well, I was thinking.” Anne put a finger to her chin. “I never did get to celebrate my 13th birthday…”

On smiled from ear to ear.

---

An hour later, the Plantars and Mr. Boonchuy returned, figuring that the coast was clear. When they walked in the living room, they saw streamers and balloons. A ‘Happy Birthday Anne!’ banner hung from the wall, and they could smell the aroma of a freshly baked cake coming from the kitchen.

“Anne, what’s going on?” Sprig asked, Anne kneeling down to the boy’s height.

“We’re helping out my Mom.” Anne handed out birthday hats to everyone and positioned everyone around the living room table. She taught them how to sing the Happy Birthday song, while her father went into the kitchen to assist with the cake. Soon enough, Anne’s parents walked into the room holding a cake, adorned with 13 candles burning brightly.

“Ok everyone, on three! One, two, three!”

In unison, everyone began to sing. The Plantars joined hands and swayed to and fro as Anne’s parents placed the cake on the coffee table.

“Happy birthday to you,

Happy birthday to you,

Happy birthday, dear Anne,

Happy birthday to you!”

Applause rang all around. Anne’s parents sat on either side of her. On hugged her and told her to make a wish. Anne closed her eyes and blew out her candles. Both her found family and her biological family embraced in one big hug, and Mr. Boonchuy proceeded to cut the cake to serve to the Plantars, making sure to give the biggest piece to the birthday girl herself.

They all turned on Webflix and began scrolling through different television shows and movies. Anne and her mother sat together on the couch.

“Mom, this cake is amazing!” Anne gushed as she spoke with a full mouth. Her mother didn’t bother chiding her for it; it wasn’t the time for it.

“I’ve had plenty of practice,” On laughed with her daughter, “I’m so glad you are finally home, Anne.”

Anne smiled and looped her arm around her mom’s neck, side-hugging her and nestling her cheek into her hair, “Glad to be back, Mom.”

It was the happiest she had been in the last five months. For all she had been through, she deserved every second of it.

…

And then, Anne’s curiosity got the better of her.

“So, what was it you were saying about a ‘workout room?’”

Notes:

At least things ended on a happier note!

I want to thank Milasia for her editing help. She gave some really good notes and feedback. She is a great addition to the "Moth" team! (should I call it that, or something else?)

I wanted to ask you guys something regarding the recent chapters and a few of the upcoming ones. Like I said at the end of True Colors, these next few chapters would be dealing with the more traumatic and mental effects of the events of those episodes and how they impact the characters. I have more lined up, but I wanted to hear from you guys if I'm being...too dialled back when it comes to the action. I figured that, given the amount of action in the first couple of chapters, a break from all of that was warranted, but should I be putting some of that in future chapters just so things don't feel the same? Let me know what you guys think!

The next time you hear from me, Amphibia will have come to a dramatic, emotional end, and I am so happy to have come along for this rollercoaster of a ride. So until then, I'll see you on the other side.

This is TheAllTimeGreatest signing off!

Chapter 12

Summary:

While Marcy undergoes further "therapy sessions" with The Core to better understand her relationship with Anne, Team Boonchuy continue in their quest to find their way back to Amphibia. However, as Anne's relentless research deprives her of much-needed sleep, she finds her mind haunted by an old face. Good thing she has a certain old frog looking out for her...

Man, Greatest makes it look so easy XD

Notes:

S'up people of the internet,

This is Magic Man writing. Greatest is on a well-deserved cruise vacation, so he has trusted me with delivering you this here chapter.

I hope you all enjoy :)

She had been at this for what felt like days.

Marcy had been channeling her anger from her last “therapy session,” a macabre term that the Core used to describe their intermittent meetings with one another. Fingers curled and face contorted, Marcy moved her arms in fluid motions as the gravel beneath her feet stirred. Rocks gathered in front of her as they began to form what looked to be a statue.

Just as the rocks began to settle into place, their loose composition gave way, and was reduced to a pile of nothing at her feet

“DANGIT!” Marcy kicked one of the rocks across the field in anger. “Why can’t I do this?!”

“It takes time, dear child.”

Marcy nearly jumped out of her skin! She turned on a dime and burbled backward and onto her posterior. She grumbled at the pain in her lower back as a smooth hand reached out to her. The Core’s familiar female form effortlessly lifted Marcy to her feet and gave her space to dust herself clean.

“Can’t you, for once, not sneak up on me like that?!” 

“You react the same way every time. I find it... cute.” 

“I bet you do,” Marcy turned back towards the pile of rubble and gave one of the smaller pebbles a kick. 

The Core cocked her head to the side. “Might I ask what you are trying to do?”

Marcy crossed her arms, huffing, “I’m trying to get the hang of the whole ‘world manipulation’ thing. It seemed so easy the last time I did it.”

“That’s because.” Her tender hand landed gently over her shoulder, “it was done through a spontaneous burst of anger.”

“And now that I’m not all ticked off” - Marcy threw her hands up - “I can’t seem to do squat!”

The woman rounded the rubble, inspecting it closely and meticulously.

“What were you trying to do?”

Such a simple question immediately flustered Marcy. Her eyes darted away and her hands locked together behind her lower back. She rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet.

“Uh…nothing?”

It was as if Marcy was asking an intelligent hive mind if she would buy such a lame excuse. The Core simply smiled and raised her hand.

“Would this…”

The ground shook around the two, and the rocks levitated from the ground and swirled around in a flurry. Marcy watched as the stones were laid effortlessly into place, forming the statue Marcy was trying to build.

“…be what you were trying to make?”

Marcy immediately blushed, because the Core had successfully made a life-sized statue of Anne, leaves, and sticks in her hair and all. The woman did not need confirmation from Marcy herself. Her face said it all.

“You’ve been thinking about her lately, haven’t you?” 

Marcy’s hands ran across her face, a frustrated sigh giving the woman the response she needed. She approached Marcy and took her hands, removing them from her face. Filled with shame, Marcy couldn’t stand to look her in the eye.

“Don’t be ashamed, dear Marcy.”

A hand reached up to caress the teen’s cheek. Marcy leaned into her touch, almost like a cat would with its owner.

“Perhaps this is the reason why you aren’t able to do what it is that you desire.” 

Marcy paled. She didn’t like where this was going.

“Oh no…” Marcy grabbed the woman’s hand and pulled it away from her, “No no no. Please, I don’t want to go through another memory. The last one was bad enough.”

The woman frowned. She felt sorry for the girl. It was obvious that she was still hurting from the last ‘therapy session’.

“Marcy,” The Core began, once again taking Marcy’s face in her hands, “if we don’t address these issues, then you won’t be able to achieve our vision.”

Her thumbs caressed her cheekbones. A shaky breath escaped Marcy’s lips.

“I’m sorry for being so weak.”

“How many times have I told you?” She looked directly into Marcy’s eyes. “You are not weak.”

Marcy slumped her shoulders, doing her very best not to cry. The woman offered her a comforting smile.

“I promise there won’t be any physical harm to you,” the woman said.

“I, uh,” Marcy shuffled, “I take it that means there will be some mental harm?”

“That,” the woman said, “is up to how you take what I am about to show you.”

Marcy uneasily shifted, biting her bottom lip. “Fine. As long as you don’t do that de-aging thing like you did last time.”

The woman smiled, “I’ll hold to that promise. Now…”

The Core extended its hand outwards and clenched it into a fist. Around the two, the landscape began to shake and crumble. Mountains cracked and its rock faces careened down the steep inclines. The sky itself opened up and began turning a bright blue. The stars gathered in the sky in one large body. They combined to form a bright sun that Marcy had to shield out with her hand. Grass began to grow as the horizons closed in on them. 

Marcy began to panic as it seemed that her entire subconscious began to shatter around her. Her breathing labored and she began hyperventilating. It wasn’t until a soft hand gently grabbed her own that she looked into the woman’s eyes.

“Don’t be afraid,” the woman said, “I’m right here.”

And just as fast as it began, it stopped.

Marcy took notice of what the Core had morphed the environment into. They were standing in the middle of a small playground, the same one where her life changed forever; the day of Anne’s birthday. 

Marcy saw the multitude of kids playing, their parents off by the fences, leaning on the metal barrier as they watched, a few of them sitting on picnic tables. Then, Marcy noticed a young couple walking into the park, a young girl holding their hands. She gasped as she saw the couple; a younger version of her parents, and in between them, a four-year-old version of herself.

Her mom knelt to the young girl’s height. “Ok Marcy, we’ll be over by the picnic tables if you need us.”

“Ok mommy,” Marcy said, hugging her mother tightly, “I promise I’ll make lots of friends!”

“I know you will, Marcy,” Her mother stroked her hair as the young girl ran off to play.

Marcy smiled as her hand flew to her heart. She hadn’t remembered much of her first years, but she did always remember how much kinder and softer her parents were; before they realized just how prodigious and intelligent she really was. 

The young Marcy ran up to a kid on the top of the slide and popped up behind him. “Hi I’m Marcy, do you wanna be my friend?!”

The boy was caught by surprise as the greeting tumbled out of Marcy’s mouth at a rapid-fire pace. He jumped an inch before unceremoniously falling down the slide, landing headfirst in the dirt, burying himself up to his neck. He pulled himself out and glared up at Marcy, muttering under his breath as he walked away.

Present Marcy watched as her younger self’s face fell with guilt. She tucked a loose strand of her raven hair behind her ear. She couldn’t bear to keep watching, but the scene progressed further. 

The young Marcy made every attempt to befriend the children. She walked up to a group of three playing in the sandbox, but they were off-put by her blabbering. She ran up to the swings and greeted a pair of twin sisters, but they soon grew annoyed by her questions. After they ran off to their parents, Marcy went to a tree in the playground and sank, curling her knees to her chest. Tears trailed down her cheeks as she leaned back into the bark. 

Present Marcy’s back hung like her shoulders. All of the experiences trying to make friends hit her like a ton of bricks. Her hyperactive personality hindered her, no matter how hard of an effort she made. The woman, still right next to her, frowned in sorrow.

“It must have been so difficult,” she stated, “trying so hard, only to come up short.”

Marcy nodded, sighing in frustration. She broke away from the Core’s female manifestation. “I thought you weren’t going to do this!”

“I did, dear Marcy,” the woman took the girl’s hand, “I promise you will enjoy what comes next.”

The Core motioned to the young Marcy, who suddenly laid eyes on a girl her age. She had dark skin, curly brown hair, a striped white and purple shirt, and dark purple shorts. She was swinging her legs aimlessly as she sat on a bench alone at the opposite end of the playground. She got up off the ground and walked cautiously over to the girl. 

Marcy gasped, “It’s…”

“It is, Marcy.”

Young Marcy approached the girl, who had yet to realize that someone else was in front of her. Once green Crocs crossed her field of vision, the girl looked up and saw a Taiwanese-American girl with dark green overalls and a lime green shirt. She merely stared at her until the seemingly shy girl spoke up.

“Hi, I’m Marcy Wu, how are you today!”

Tiny hands clamped around the younger Marcy’s mouth. Gasping under her breath, she feared the worst as the girl just looked at her, almost as if she was analyzing her.

“I’m doing great!” The girl said. “How are you?“

Slowly, Marcy moved her hands away from her mouth. The dark-skinned girl’s wide smile was infectious. She seemed rapt with attention as the young girl’s Crocs dug into the dirt.

“I-I’m, uh…” Marcy started, “I’m great too. M-My name is Marcy.” She realized she left out her last name, “Wu! Marcy Wu! That’s my name! What about you? What's your name?”

The young Marcy held her breath. Her rambling was at it again. It was almost like she couldn’t control it. The girl’s silence nearly confirmed her fears, until she started laughing.

“I’m Anne,” the girl stated, jumping off the bench and putting her hands on her hips, “Anne Boonchuy!”

Marcy’s smile stretched from ear to ear. “It’s nice to meet you, Anne! Are you here with your parents?”

Anne jumped off the table and nodded vigorously. “Yeah! They’re right over there! Hi Mom and Dad!”

Anne’s hand wove around in a large crescent arc, directing at a couple by the fence. The woman looked just like her daughter, wearing white slacks and a tan shirt. The father had on a dark blue, short-sleeved dress shirt and brown khakis. They both waved at their daughter. Anne then grabbed Marcy’s hand and pointed at her.

“This is Marcy!” Anne declared, a faint blush on Marcy’s face. “She’s my new friend!”

A high-pitched gasp redirected Anne’s attention to Marcy. Her hands were pressed to her lips, and she could see the faintest of tears tugging at the corners of her eyes. She reached out and took her hands in her own.

“What’s wrong?” Anne worryingly asked. “Did I say something bad?”

Marcy merely shook her head, doing her best to wipe away her tears. “You…you just called me your friend.”

“I know,” Anne nodded, before pulling back slightly, “do…do you not want to be my friend?

Panic filled Marcy. Dread swirled around her as she realized the way she worded herself.

“No, it’s not that! It’s just…” Marcy fiddled with her small ponytail, “I’ve never had a friend before…”

Anne gasped, her hands clasping her cheeks, “Never?”

Marcy shook her head, “Never. Everyone thinks I’m annoying.”

Anne noticed just how much the girl retreated after saying that. The chipper, energetic bundle of joy that greeted her was nowhere to be seen. With firm resolve, Anne put her hands on her hips.

“Well, I don’t think you’re annoying. I think you’re awesome!” Anne took her hand, “Come on, let’s play on the swings!”

Marcy was tugged by the curly-haired girl towards a free set of swings by the large oak tree on the other side of the playground. As they enjoyed each other’s company through the rest of the day, Marcy couldn’t keep her eyes off the girl who was now her first real friend. The way she laughed and told funny stories, the attention she paid to her when she rambled on and on, the tender care she gave her when she fell and scraped her knee.

For once in her short life, Marcy felt like she was loved.

Present Marcy watched her younger self as the woman smiled softly, “You two really hit it off right away.”

“She liked me for who I was.” Marcy put her hands in her sweatshirt pocket. “Regardless of how much of a handful I was.”

“She wasn’t like other kids, huh?” The Core asked.

“Nope.” Marcy shook her head. “She was everything I wanted in a friend.”

“Just a friend?”

That got Marcy’s attention, prying her eyes for her younger self and snapping her head towards the woman, whose innocent and quizzical gaze hid the intention behind such a question.

“What,” Marcy said, “are you talking about?”

“Dear child,” The Core stated, “it’s very obvious that you view her as much more than a friend. Look.”

The Core directed Marcy’s attention to her younger self and Anne, who held hands while swinging. The infectious laughter and joy as they kicked their legs back and forth to get more height on their swings warmed Marcy’s heart.

“She…” Marcy rubbed the back of her head, “she was like a sister to me. She listened to all my problems, even when I rambled on and on. She was the one I could turn to for everything, even when I felt I couldn’t turn to my parents.”

“And you would do anything to hold on to her.”

Marcy nodded, as the Core stepped forward and walked through the playground, guiding Marcy by hand. With each step they took, the scene around her began to transform and change. The grass took on the texture of linoleum. The trees and fences turned dark green and became lockers. Marcy just gazed as the playground faded away, and was replaced by a school hallway. Not just any school hallway-

“Wait, why are we at my school?” 

The Core simply points down the hallway, where Anne carries her book bag on one shoulder. Next to her is a black-haired girl, a few inches taller, wearing ballet flats like Sasha. She tucks a hair behind her ear as she giggles at something that Anne said.

“I’m telling you, Mr. Wright’s wearing a hairpiece!” Anne threw her hands up in the air in an excited fervor.

“No way!” The girl said, waving her hand at Anne. “I’m pretty sure Vince made that rumor up or something.”

“Either way, I’m gonna find out!” Anne crossed her arms and stood firm in an anime-like pose, “Anne Boonchuy is on the case!”

Marcy smiled; she really couldn't help herself. She loved how Anne was so enthusiastic about anything. The way that she dove headfirst into things without much of a second thought. Reckless? Yes. Admirable? Also yes, and Marcy adored Anne for it. Her smile receded when the girl patted her on the shoulder.

“Alright Anne,” The girl giggled, “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves now.”

“I know I know,” Anne wrapped an arm around the girl, making Marcy cringe with anger. “We still on for tonight?”

“You know it!” The girl pumped her fists into the air. “I’ve got everything set for an awesome movie night! Are Sasha and Marcy coming?”

“Sasha said she’s in, but Mar-Mar said her parents are making her stay home and study.” Anne groaned, to which the girl shrugged.

“Eh, don’t worry about it,” the girl stated, “I’m just psyched that we get to hang out together!” The sound of vibrating filled the air, as the girl reached into her backpack and pulled out her phone, “Mom’s here. I’ll see you tonight, Anne!”

“Bye Megan!” Anne waved at the girl as she took off down the hall. Marcy’s contemptuous look said everything it needed to about how she felt about Megan. Her nails dug into her palms as the Core merely looked on.

“You didn’t like her, did you?”

Marcy shook her head, leaning against the lockers.

“You didn’t really have to study that night, did you?”

Once again, Marcy shook her head, “She was going to take Anne away from me.”

The Core frowned, “You must have been scared.”

Scared wasn’t the word to describe how she felt. She was terrified. The years spent with Anne took all of the loneliness that awaited her at home and made it disappear into thin air. Sitting around their television watching stupid teenage romcoms and celebrating birthday milestones were the only things that Marcy cherished outside of her isolated home life. That some girl Anne just met would push her out of her life? 

She wouldn’t let that happen. No matter what.

When she looked back up, she noticed that the hallway was flooded with students, all crowded around a locker that school administrators, alongside Principal Murphy, were combing through. Megan stood off to the side, a confused look on her face as she worriedly looked at Anne. One of the administrators spotted a gym bag stuffed into the back of the disorganized locker.

“What the…?” Megan asked.

“Isn’t that your gym bag?” Anne asked, to which Megan nodded.

“It was stolen out of my locker a few days ago.”

The administrator who grabbed it shook the bag, a faint sloshing sound emanating from inside. He unzipped the bag and gasped, showing the other members of the search party its contents. They all trained their eyes on Megan.

“What?” she innocently asked, before a half-empty bottle of whiskey was pulled out from the bag. The surrounding students gasped at the sight, Anne especially. The color drained from Megan’s face as her knees trembled. She could hardly stand as she steadied herself against the locker.

“Well, well…!” The administrator sneered, shaking the bottle in front of Megan’s face. “Looks like we found our pusher!”

Megan was speechless. Rumors had spread in the last few weeks that someone in the school had been selling other students alcohol. Most thought these rumors to be unfounded. That is, up until that very moment.

“T-T-That’s not mine! I swear!” Megan cried.

“Oh really? Just like these aren’t yours, too?”

The man began to pull out more bottles. An unopened bottle of wine, a few cases of beer, and an empty container of tequila. Murmuring ensued as the entire crowd stared at Megan, who could no longer hold back her tears. 

Anne turned to her friend, “Megan…”

Megan lunged forward and grabbed Anne’s hand. Her nicely manicured nails inadvertently dug into her arm, “Anne, please! That’s not mine! I swear!”

“You.” The voice that spoke up cut the silence like a knife. Megan turned to the source, Principal Murphy’s brow furrowed in a terse glare. “My office. Right. Now.”

As if her friend’s touch was poison, Anne pulled her hand away from Megan, leaving trails of nail marks near her wrist. Megan gasped as the administrators escorted her to the principal's office. The head administrator herself turned to the crowd of students.

“Alright, nothing left to see here. Get back to class.” Murphy said as she followed the administrators back to her office. Anne just watched them leave, and felt a hand on her shoulder, turning around to see Sasha.

“Oof,” Sasha said, sounding almost sympathetic. “Tough break, Anne. Never pegged her for a troublemaker.”

“Yeah, you’re telling me.” Anne solemnly said as she hung her head, Sasha doing her best to comfort her. Around the two, the students began to disperse, and as they separated, only one student stayed. Behind Sasha and Anne, Marcy stood with her books held close to her chest.

And a wide grin on her face, proud of her handiwork.

The current Marcy stared at her past self. She could see in her eyes the cruelty it took to pull something like that off. She was worried that it wouldn’t work, that she would make a mistake since she hadn’t done something like framing another student. And yet, once it happened, she couldn’t help but feel proud of what she had done.

The same couldn’t be said for present Marcy, who had sunk to her knees, forlorn. The Core crouched down and brushed Marcy’s hair out of her eyes. There were no tears this time. Just pure emptiness.

“You were afraid of losing her, weren’t you?”

Marcy simply nodded as she pulled herself to her feet.

“You started that rumor about someone selling alcohol, stole Megan’s bag, and planted it in her locker, right?”

Marcy vigorously shook her head, “I was so scared that she would leave me.”

“Why, dear Marcy?” The woman offered an ear to the girl.

“She…” Marcy started, running her arm, “was everything I wasn’t. Sociable, pretty, popular, not a complete klutz. She liked all the things that Anne did.”

“But she didn’t possess the love you have for Anne,” the woman said. “She never understood Anne as you do.”

“And yet, it nearly ended up costing me. My dad was so upset!” 

The linoleum floor collapsed in on itself, replaced with hardwood floors. The lockers receded into the wall. All of this went unnoticed by Marcy as she rambled on.

“He just wouldn’t let it go! He went on and on and on about how Anne was pushed around by a ‘delinquent,’ and how I shouldn't be hanging out with someone like that! And then my mom—”

“How the heck does something like this happen?!”

The outburst stopped Marcy dead in her tracks. It was then that she realized that the school hallway disappeared and that she was back in her house. She turned around and saw the scene, a tense evening dinner with her parents. Marcy was simply picking and poking her food around, obviously not hungry. Her father was worked up, only amplified by the fact that he had a few drinks with dinner.

“We pay good money and work our fingers to the bone to send you to a nice Catholic school, and this is what happens? Ugh! Do you know how many hoops we had to jump through? I had to learn about transubstantiation, Marcy! My grandmother is probably turning over in her grave!” Mr. Wu punctuated his little rant by slamming down his glass, startling Marcy.

“Marcus,” tutted Mrs. Wu, a hand on her head and leaning on her elbow. “Your grandmother was cremated.”

“It’s an expression, Grace,” Marcus growled, waving his hand, “Either way, Marcy, I’m surprised with your friend. Honestly, what was Anne thinking, hanging around with a girl like that?”

Marcy suddenly perked up, “N-No, that’s not true! Anne didn’t know about Megan. I mean, I always knew something was up about her. No one can be that popular and that nice at the same time and all.”

“Hmph,” Marcus scoffed. “Well, I’d expect you to pick up on something on that, Marcy but Anne really should’ve known better—”

“Now honey,” Grace interrupted, “don’t be too mad at Anne. She’s a good girl, just a little misguided is all. She should be listening to her true friends.”

That last part was said while she looked at Marcy, who could only offer a sheepish grin and chuckle in response. Her mother reached up to brush her daughter’s hair.

“You’re a good girl, Marcy,” she smiled. “You and Sasha.”

Marcy cringed at the mention of the blonde’s name.

If only you knew, Mom…

“I know you’ll keep Anne on the right path” - Grace smiled with pride - “you’re kind, you’re sweet…”

In the pit of Marcy’s stomach, the twisting and turning knot had tightened. Without so much as a second thought, she broke away from the table and ran upstairs, ignoring her mother’s calls. She sprinted into her room and slammed it behind her. She frantically ran her hands through her hair, running them down her cheeks as her chest rose and fell. 

Present Marcy couldn’t bear to watch; she turned away. She had experienced such anxiety too many times before. She was only grateful that the Core didn’t make her personally suffer through it again.

“You regretted what you did, right?”

Marcy’s hands fell to her sides, “I just…couldn’t bear the thought of losing Anne.”

“Such a fearful thought, indeed.” The woman approached Marcy. “Which is why you need to make sure that you never lose Anne again.”

Marcy was anything if not realistic. Even though she enjoyed all things fantasy, her intellect was the one thing that kept her tethered to reality. She remembered the horrific look in Anne’s eyes when she told her of her vision, the pang in her heart when she called her evil. She clutched her chest, anguish filling her very being.

“After what I did, she’ll never take me back…” Marcy began. 

Then, her grief-filled heart was flooded with anger. Her twisted fingers lain across her chest and curled into a tight fist. When this happened, the walls of her room began to crumble around her. She turned on her heel, shot her arm outward, and splayed her hand open, and the room disintegrated. The woman was in awe at  Marcy’s steely resolve. They stood in the clearing of one of the mountains, as pieces of the room rained down from above. The ever-growing, sick smile on Marcy’s face made the Core grin just the same.

“Then I guess she won’t have a choice.”

---

She had been at this for what seemed like days.

Bloodshot eyes poured over every single nook of information she could find from every kind of Doogle search. Anne sat at her desk, the light from her laptop the only source of illumination in the entire room. 

She had been back home for two weeks, and yet, she was still no closer to finding a way back to Amphibia. Clickbait after clickbait filled the screen as Anne groaned in utter frustration. Dragging the skin under her eyes, she shut her laptop and staggered to her feet, having to steady herself against the heavy wooden desk. Her knees threatened to buckle under her, as she had been sitting at the desk for hours. 

She made note of the Plantars sleeping peacefully in their usual spots. Tiptoeing across the room, she quietly made her way downstairs to the kitchen. Throwing open the fridge door, she had to wield her eyes from the sudden intensity of the light before blindly reaching inside and taking out a bottle of MoonBucks iced coffee. Anne was faintly able to make out the ‘Double Espresso’ label.

“Aaaaaanne…”

The disembodied voice startled Anne, bumping her head against the ceiling of the fridge. The contents on the door shook from the impact as Anne held the soon-to-be bruise on her head. Quickly shutting the door, she looked around the dark kitchen and into the even darker living room. The source of the voice was nowhere to be seen, and she didn’t want to risk waking her parents by turning on the lights.

Hoping to forget about it, she trudged back upstairs, quietly creaking her bedroom door open and slipping back inside. Settling back into her desk, Anne sighed heavily before getting back to work.

“You don’t look so good.”

This time, the voice wasn’t disembodied. It was as if it had set up shop right next to her. Anne snapped her head to her left, and what she saw was something even she couldn’t explain.

Leaning against her desk was Marcy, dressed in her Newtopian ranger armor. To say Anne was surprised was an understatement. She tumbled backward, her seat going with her, unceremoniously landing on the carpeted floor with a thud! She prayed that the sound didn’t wake anyone as she stared up at ‘Marcy’, who traced her fingers along the desk.

“‘Sup?” she batted her eyes playfully. 

“You…” Anne whispered. “You’re not real.”

‘Marcy’ smiled, “Oh I’m very real, Annabanana.” She looked at what Anne was researching and laughed. “Guess you’re having trouble with finding a way back to Amphibia. Figures. I always was the brains of the outfit.”

Anne scowled as she got to her knees. “Shut up. I’m finding my way back, and when I do, I’m gonna beat the ever-living frog out of you.”

‘Marcy’ giggled, her chest heaving up and down as she held her fingertips to her lips. As she continued to laugh, it became more and more unhinged. She pressed both hands to her stomach as she began to bellow. Her cackling made Anne sink backward as the walls seemed to echo her wailing. Then, she found herself lifted off the ground and pulled right up to Marcy, their noses touching as the girl’s eyes turned orange and bloodshot.

“You will never defeat me, Anne. I’m coming for you and everyone you care about.” Marcy loomed with her head tilted awkwardly. “Your friends, your parents…”

The dead, lifeless eyes of the apparition drifted over to her found family. “Your little frog family…”

Sweat beaded down Anne’s forehead, as ‘Marcy’ bared her razor-sharp teeth and claws, shrieking, “AND YOUR LITTLE KITTY TOO!!”

The apparition pushed her down, and Anne found herself falling through a pitch-black, endless abyss. She tried to scream, but nothing came out of her mouth. The only thing she could do was silently suffer as darkness claimed her.

Anne shot up off the carpet, jerking her head in every direction possible, looking for the menace of her nightmares. She was nowhere to be seen. As she put a hand to her chest to steady her breathing, she noticed the damp perspiration that had soaked through her nightshirt. As she grabbed the desk to stand back up, a thick, sticky liquid coated her hand, and Anne was quick to notice how her canned iced coffee had spilled, no doubt during her manic episode.

The next few minutes passed by in a haze. Anne didn’t remember much, but the next thing that she knew, she had buried her cheek into the rough wood of her desk and willed herself to force her eyes shut.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Anne, an old frog across the room had awoken, having seen the entire thing transpire in front of him.

—

The lack of quality sleep, punctuated by the terrifying nightmares she had when she did manage to drift off, were really taking a toll when Anne considered things. It almost cost her a crucial lead at the local museum, where she and the Plantars were forced to break in and attempt to steal an ancient vase. Luckily, the museum’s curator, Dr. Jan, was an understanding woman, who advised the sleep-deprived teen to get some sleep.

As much as she wanted to heed her advice, the museum enthusiast did not fully grasp the entirety of Anne’s situation (and did not want to tell her, anyway). As much as she tried, the delusions and crippling insomnia continued, which really made things difficult for Anne when the Cloakbot unleashed an assault on the Thai temple. It was hard for her to tell what was real and what was simply a figment of her fragmented imagination. 

As a result, she tried taking it easy the past few days. She spent more time at the museum, showing the Plantars around the exhibits and explaining their significance. After the place was trashed during their nighttime escapade, the four volunteered to help clean the place up.

For now, while the Plantars did that, Anne was examining the jar in Dr. Jan’s office. The heavy bags underneath her eyes scrunched real tight as Anne examined the fine details of the image of a small frog and the Calamity Box.

“Let’s see.” Anne rubbed a hand over the jar’s smooth exterior, its fine texture caressing her skin, “Andrias said it had been a thousand years, and…”

Her head pulled down before she caught herself, sharply snapping back up and inadvertently snorting. Too hard, in fact, unleashing a coughing fit as she cradled the jar underneath her arm and hacked into a clenched fist.

“This is getting tough.” Anne noticed the Vikings in awe at the power of the box’s abilities. “The Vikings were around in the…late 11th century? When was it again?”

Anne skunked over to Dr. Jan’s desk and logged into her computer. Setting the jar down, she mindlessly typed away, her vision becoming more and more blurry. Until…

“You can’t escape me, Anne.”

Anne held her head, almost as if she were in pain simply from hearing the disembodied voices. Rattled and disgruntled, she laid her head flat on the keyboard.

“I’m coming for you, Anne.”

“I won’t stop until you’re mine.”

“This time I’ll finish the job, Anne.”

“Anne.”

“Anne.”

“Anneanneanneanne…”

The hollowed wooden desk began to shake each time Anne bumped her forehead. Running her fingers through her hair, Anne could barely take it; the constant mindless droning of her own name was killing her. 

“Anne.”

There it was again; except, it seemed more…present.

“Anne!”

She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She just wanted it to be over.

“ANNE!”

“JUST SHUT UP ALREADY!” Anne yelled out, spinning around in her chair to face her tormentor, who, as it turned out, was just one very concerned Dr. Jan, “Oh! Dr. Jan! I…”

“The jar!”

Anne saw it. The jar, teetering ever so slightly on the edge of the desk, slipped off, Anne being too slow to grasp it. In a flash, she saw Dr. Jan move across the room in two steps before diving out, arms extended, to catch the jar in her hands.

“Phew!” Dr. Jan stood up and dusted some dirt off the jar, “that was a close one, don’t you think Anne?”

Anne just sat there, mindlessly staring at Dr. Jan’s feat of heroism that saved their only lead on getting back home. 

“Uh, An—”

“I’m sorry!”

Dr. Jan was taken by surprise at Anne’s sudden outburst. “It’s ok.” She placed a hand on her shoulder, “you haven’t been getting any sleep like I told you to, have you?”

Anne’s only response, a deeply shameful one, was to just shake her head. Before the doctor could try and calm her, Anne just shakily stood up on wobbly legs, “I’m… going to see how the Plantars are holding up.”

That was a lie. She just needed to get out of there. Fast.

Anne strode down the halls of the museum, taking glimpses at the repairs that construction workers were undertaking to fix the damage that the Cloakbot wrecked on the place. She saw Sprig, his mask pulled up, helping out the janitorial staff. Upon seeing his best friend, Sprig waved both arms in the air, his eyes glowing with excitement.

“Hi Anne!” Sprig tossed the loose remains from a dustpan into the garbage. The girl could only offer a wry smile and a weak wave of her hand as she walked by, something that Polly, who walked in with an electric drill, noticed.

“Uh, is Anne alright?” Polly scratched her head.

“I’m…not totally sure,” Sprig sighed before noticing the drill in Polly’s stubby hands. “Hey, I thought Hop Pop told you not to go near the power tools!”

“Polly does what Polly wants!” The tadpole protested as she revved the drill.

Anne held herself up over the sink, having barged into the bathroom. The flickering fluorescent lights above her head bathed the gray, drab-looking bathroom in a low light. The girl ran the faucet, letting the water run as she stared at her reflection.

“Get a hold of yourself, Anne.” She cupped her hands underneath the faucet and gathered cold water in her hands. “You’re losing your mind here!”

She bent down and splashed the water on her face. The refreshing relief that it brought to her seemed to help with the absolute exhaustion that wracked her body. She whipped her head up, her hair shaking off the remaining droplets of water. Drying her face off, Anne took a deep breath and exhaled, trying to calm herself down. 

That futile attempt failed when she adjusted her eyes and saw ‘Marcy’ in the mirror. “Gah!” She spun around and inadvertently slipped on some water on the floor, floundering against the sink.

‘Marcy’ giggled at Anne’s klutziness and, almost comically, sashayed her way over to Anne. The girl looked up at her enemy, and finally got a good look at her. She didn’t look the same as she did the last time she appeared. No, she looked far worse. Her left arm was entirely black and blue, and her wrist bore the splintered remains of her once trusty crossbow. She was leaking blood from her mouth, and her fingers were stained red from her ruined nail beds. Bruises covered her face, her hair was frazzled and matted all over her head, and her eyes.

Those horrible, bloodshot eyes. 

The injuries from their last fight looked over Anne like a foreboding skyscraper cresting against a dreary sky. As if on an impulse, and powered by pure recklessness and wanton abandon, Anne struck out with a right cross, which ‘Marcy’ effortlessly parried and tossed Anne against the wall, leaving small cracks. 

Anne slid down the wall face first, as ‘Marcy’s’ boots echoed off the linoleum floor. “Oh, Anna-banana. So passionate, so brave. And yet…”

She grabbed Anne by the hair and dragged her over to the sink. Yanking her by the hair, she slammed her headfirst into the marble sink, the worn material creaking underneath the impact. Anne fell backward, already feeling a goose egg forming on her head.

“…stupid,” the apparition finished. “Every day that passes is just another day I grow stronger. Soon, no one will be able to challenge me. Not even you and your anime powers.”

She cackled, as the blood began pouring down her face. It was as if she didn’t notice it at all, nor did her apparent injuries seem to slow ‘Marcy’ down. Anne just got up and unleashed volley after volley of punches to ‘Marcy’s’ face. Each hit she landed, ‘Marcy’ just laughed and laughed. 

“Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!”

‘Marcy’ didn’t let up. Even though she looked unrecognizable to anyone who might know her, she still stood tall, proud, and unyielding, as blood dripped down onto the floor. Breathing heavily, Anne reeled back one last time.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

CRRRRRRRRRA-SSSSSSSH!

Shattered glass impacted the floor around the sink. Anne, having clamped her eyes tightly shut as she yelled in a blind fury, finally saw the damage. She had punched straight through the mirror, her fist impacting the wall behind it. There was no doubt that her powers had helped her in that department. She withdrew her hand and immediately saw the blood that was now pouring down her arm from the sliced skin around her knuckles. 

Anne immediately felt the white-hot, excruciating agony that radiated up her arm. She fell to her knees and covered her hand, immediately sending more pain through her body. The pain blinded her to nearly everything else around her, including the fact that ‘Marcy’ had once again vanished, and that Dr. Jan and the Plantars had barged through the bathroom door, having overhead the struggle taking place.

—

Dr. Jan had sent Anne home for the day. It wasn’t a suggestion, either. After removing the glass, disinfecting her wounds, and cleaning her up, Anne and the Plantars were sent on their way. Her mother picked her up, and immediately, the older woman was fraught with worry, peppering Anne with questions about what happened. Dr. Jan was able to convince Anne’s mother that she had hurt herself by helping her repair the museum exhibits. A scolding from Mrs. Boonchuy about the safety of working in such an environment later, and the group had made their way back home.

Anne had just situated herself on the couch in the living room. Her mother brought her some homemade Thai iced tea and fresh chocolate chip cookies, lovingly reminding her that she considered them to be ‘the answer to all of life’s problems'.

That got a weak laugh out of Anne, who just laid back. Her mother stroked her hair softly. “Is there something you want to talk about, honey? Remember that you can always talk to me.”

Anne remembered how her mother had poured her heart out in front of her a few nights ago about how she felt all the months that she was missing. What kind of person would Anne be if she didn’t do the same?

Then she thought about Marcy and the implications of telling her mother the truth about what actually happened in Amphibia.

“No, I’m fine,” Anne answered. “You know me, just trying to find ways to get the Plantars home and all.”

“Well,” her mother took Anne’s chin in her hand, “you should really try and get some rest.” A quick kiss to the forehead later and her mother had returned to the kitchen. Anne leaned her head back and let it rest on the soft fabric. She couldn’t stand the idea of closing her eyes again. No matter whether she was awake or asleep, she kept getting plagued by nightmares of her former friend, one awaiting her when she returned to Amphibia.

“Copper for your thoughts?”

Anne leered down and saw Hop Pop sitting next to her. “I know a little bit about what you might be going through.”

“Huh?” Anne tiredly feigned ignorance, “What are you talking about? I just haven’t gotten any dang sleep lately.”

“Because you’ve been seeing her, haven’t you?”

The question pierced Anne like a dagger through the heart. For a moment, she couldn’t even talk, let alone respond to Hop Pop’s question. 

“It’s Marcy, right?” he clarified.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Anne turned away from him.

“What about what happened in your room last night?”

Yet again, another armor piercer from the old frog. 

“I…I…I can’t sleep. I can’t…think right. I just can’t…” Anne quivered in fear before receding into herself, hiding her face in the knees she pulled up to her chest as if she were embarrassed. Hop Pop made a move to reach out to Anne, but decided it might be best to just keep his distance a bit.

“How…do you know what I’m going through?”

Anne had shakily asked Hop Pop as the old frog closed his eyes, “The day the herons killed Sprig and Polly’s parents.”

Anne poked her head out. “W-What?”

Hop Pop bowed his head solemnly, “After we were able to drive the herons off, that’s when I learned what happened to them. It was… Anne, it was the worst day of my entire life.” The elder frog hopped off the couch and paced the floor. Anne didn’t stop him; there was no way regaling this tale could possibly be easy for him.

“Were Sprig and Polly, you know, mad?” she delicately put.

“It’s not that they were mad, Anne, they were just really upset,” Hop Pop explained. “And who could blame them? The worst part about the whole thing was the guilt I felt. I was away while the herons attacked, remember? I wasn’t there to save my son and his wife, or protect my grandkids. I spent…a lot of time unable to look either of those kids in the eye; that wasn’t even the start of my problems.”

Anne leaned in, her palms flat on her thighs. “What do you mean?”

Hop Pop took a long, deep, and exhausted breath, his diaphragm trembling as he exhaled. Rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, he muttered something under his breath before continuing, “It was the nightmares that were the worst.”

Anne’s loose arms hung lazily by her side now. “Nightmares?”

“Yeah,” Hop Pop nodded, then gazed into space. “Sometimes I’d dream about Sprig and Polly blaming me for their deaths, other times it would be them begging for me to save them, but being unable to. There was… this one very bad night where I… I dreamed about what must’ve happened… what those monsters did to them.” 

Anne retreated, her face turning a sickly green as she forced down the acrid bile that threatened to spill forward. The mere suggestion of what he was talking about was enough to make her stomach do backflips.

“So, how did you stop them?” 

“You see, that’s the thing,” Hop Pop turned back to Anne, “I couldn’t for the longest time.”

Anne’s heart sank. Just like that, she accepted that she was destined to never get another peaceful night’s sleep again.

“At least, until I learned not to blame myself for what happened to them.”

Anne lifted her head again, “What?”

“That’s how you feel about Marcy, right?” Hop Pop asked, approaching the sofa again. “You feel like there’s something you could have done to stop what happened to her.”

Such a revelation had never occurred to Anne. The entire time processing it had been directing nothing but her utter hatred and sadness towards the girl she regarded as a sister. Never once did she think that she could have done something to prevent any of this from happening.

Yet, the more Hop Pop explained it, the more that Anne thought that it might have actually applied to her. “So, are you saying…” Anne croaked, tears brimming on her eyelids, “…I could have stopped this?”

Hop Pop gasped, realizing he may have worded that wrong. “Absolutely not!” he nearly shouted, startling Anne slightly, “I mean, what I’m saying is that Marcy made her own choice. The only one responsible for her decisions is her, and her alone. All of the townsfolk said I had to stop blaming myself for something I couldn’t control. I couldn’t turn back time and change things, so dwelling on such an idea would only cause me and others more pain. Does it still hurt? Yes, it does; part of me thinks that the pain is always going to be there, Anne, but it’s how we respond to that pain that defines who we are.”

Anne could only stare in awe at the old frog, the same frog that stubbornly clung to traditions and had the gross habit of pocketing his ear wax. Anne wondered if the Hop Pop she knew had been replaced by a clone. The gems of wisdom she was given by a notoriously stingy farmer were speaking to her on another level. For the first time in days, she smiled, wiping a tear away from her eye.

“Thanks, Hop Pop,” Anne reached out and hugged the elder frog, “I… really needed to hear that.”

Hop Pop was taken aback by the surprising reaction from his adoptive granddaughter, but was nonetheless perfectly willing to hug her back. “No problem, kiddo. Even though I lost my son, I’m still grateful to have three wonderful grandchildren.”

That did it. Anne squeezed tighter; Hop Pop gasped a bit at the sudden pressure, which Anne let up. “Sorry ‘bout that, HP.”

Hop Pop’s only response was to squeeze tighter, which Anne happily reciprocated. When she opened her eyes, across from her was the bane of her dreams. She just stood there, smiling and waving, that Cheshire Cat smile from ear to ear threatening to split her ugly face in two. This time, Anne stared back with a firm resolve, knowing that when the time came, she would vanquish this foe from her life for good.

Chapter 13

Chapter by TheAllTimeGreatest

Summary:

Sasha wrestles with her inner emotions in the aftermath of Marcy's betrayal as she attempts to lead the Resistance's first mission, where nothing goes as planned. Marcy's transformation is nearly complete as The Core further corrupts the girl and convinces her to finally take what is rightfully hers.

Notes:

One obligatory cruise vacation later, and I am back, bab-aaaaaay! All the thanks to MagicMan and Milasia for managing the previous chapter while I was away!

So for this chapter, I decided to shake it up a little. We're going to give Anne a little bit of breathing room and focus on Sasha, who I, admittedly, have been neglecting a bit since the end of this story's True Colors. It wasn't intentional, but I guess I was so focused on how Marcy, Anne, and the Plantars were handling everything that I completely forgot about Sasha. I'm probably going to go back to one of the previous chapters and add something in there that addresses her a bit more because I went back to read them and just really noticed the stark absence of her presence at times.

But enough of my mindless rambling, it's time to jump back into things!

Also, forewarning, Marcy's section of this chapter contains some pretty graphic violence. So, as evidenced by the story's content warning, be advised.

Sasha took her time, putting every muscle she had into each strike. Her knuckles collided with the gauze-wrapped wooden stud she had set up in her quarters once the entire town of Wartwood had relocated into the catacombs underneath the Plantar family farm. She grabbed a towel off the table and wiped her brow, taking a walk to the balcony that overlooked the main courtyard. 

It was amazing how, in a mere few weeks time, the citizens of Wartwood were able to set up a sprawling resistance base, such that it resembled the old Wartwood that had, no doubt, been destroyed by the robotic army of King Andrias. At least, that’s what she could surmise from the constant rumblings of laser fire from above ground. The dulcet sounds above were drowned out mostly by the chitchat of the Wartwood citizens, who were currently training in the courtyard. Sasha couldn’t help but feel proud for all that she had done to turn a new leaf especially after reading Anne’s journal.

Then why did she feel so hollow?

Of course, Sasha knew why, and it began with the letter M, and she dare not finish her name, lest she bring up macabre fantasies of driving her sword through her gut and disemboweling the little traitor before hanging her with her own intestines. The mere thought made Sasha dig her nails into the wooden railing.

No…I won’t let that bitch-

“Lieutenant!”

Sasha jumped before snapping her head to the sound of her title. Grime stood in her room, hands on his hips, “You good?”

Shaking the cobwebs out of her head, Sasha walked past him, not responding to his question, “Sasha, you’re spiraling again.”

“I am not spiraling,” Sasha insisted before going back to her punching contest with the wooden stud, “I’m just. Focused. On fighting. Back!”

Each word was punctuated with a dull punch, “We need to be better prepared. Half of Wartwood is barely able to handle the basic combat techniques we’ve been teaching them, and the other half keep falling on their butts trying to get it right. Plus, our recruit drives have been a wash. No one is willing to do what’s necessary to stand up to King Andrias!”

Sasha stopped hitting the beam and just leaned on it, her forehead grazing the wooden texture, feeling the splinters pushing against the creases in her skin, “It’s just…really frustrating how slow this is all going.”

“Newtopia wasn’t built in a day, Lieutenant,” Grime leaned on the doorframe, “At least they’re eager to learn, unlike my own army before you showed up.”

Sasha couldn’t fight the urge to crack a smile at that mention. Teaching the toad army how to be warriors was a memory she cherished, mainly because of how strong a bond she shared with them was. Well, that and getting her own palace with plenty of her favorite foods wasn’t too bad.

Then, it conjured up more bad memories. Hurting Anne, trying to sacrifice herself when she realized that her friend was better off without her, trying to kill Hop Pop and Sprig. Sasha shuddered before knocking her knuckles against the wood one more time. Her eyes roved over to the simple wooden nightstand by her bed. There, she spotted a long, sharp golden colored hairpin. It had been given to her by the girl who shall not be named when she needed help getting her long hair under control, especially on hot summer days. She called it a zan, apparently a common type of hairpin used by Chinese women that she got from her grandmother. Of all the things she destroyed to part herself from her, the hairpin was the one thing Sasha couldn’t throw away. For the life of her, she didn’t know why. She grabbed it from off the table, placing it back in her hair above her right ear.

“It will all come together in due time,” Grime said, pulling Sasha out the door, “Now come on, we’ve got some training to do!”

…

It’s safe to say that training didn’t help Sasha take her mind off of Marcy. It only seemed to worsen the issue, unintentionally failing to hold back her strikes when sparring with One-Eyed Wally (to which he responded, “For Frog’s sake, Sasha! You’re going to poke my other eye out!”). A profuse apology later and Sasha found herself in the war chambers, where the more strategically inclined frogs of Wartwood planned for their first big mission, one that they had been planning for a while.

“Ok, so let’s go over this one more time,” Sasha motioned to the map spread out on the table, “According to Stumpy and Duckweed, when they were scouting Frobot patrols, they noticed that they were heavily centered around this area, at the rim of the Valley,” Sasha pointed to a spot marked with an X on the edge of the map.

“Since Grime is more familiar with the greater Valley than any of us, he told me it was where the Toad army tended to stash an emergency cache of supplies and weapons,” Sasha motioned to Grime who stepped up to the table.

“Stumpy told me that Andrias’ robots are making sure no roaming band of raiders are trying to take that stash,” Grime explained, “I assume the mad King is trying to plan for if things go sideways. Those supplies are essential for the Resistance, so we’re going to take them.”

Whoops and cheers reverberated through the room, but Grime hardened his expression, “Now, it’s not going to be easy. These robots are going to do anything to defend that stash.”

“How do ya suppose we approach this, then?” Stumpy asked, “I saw how those robots operated during the day. Penetrating their defenses is going to be impossible with the supplies we currently have.”

“Which is why,” Sasha explained, “we need to go under the cover of night. We’ll decide who will go. For now, we should rest up while we can, because we’re wheels up at sundown.”

The room dispersed to get ready for the mission. Sasha spent the rest of that night tucked away in her room. Lying on the old, worn out cot, her mind drifted to the contents on her phone. She found herself scrolling through old photos, of simpler times before she was condemned to a humid marshland full of frogs by her.

Speaking of simpler times, she spotted a photo that, admittedly, made her tear up a bit. It was taken last Christmas at the Boonchuys’ party. Sasha had her arms looped around Anne and Marcy, squishing both of them against her. Marcy flashed a peace sign, while Anne held up her new Nelson-brand tennis racket. She remembered that night so vividly. How she ribbed Marcy for her poor gift-wrapping skills, to being genuinely surprised at how thoughtful a gift she had given Anne. 

For the first time since Newtopia, she actually found herself missing her former friend, longing for the lazy days in the Los Angeles sun. Until she traced the large, cauterised scar over her left knee. It was dark red and still showing signs of healing. It had itched, but Sasha fought the urge to scratch it. She couldn’t afford an infection.

It all made her anger boil over yet again. She simply threw her phone on the floor with a frustrated groan and splayed herself out.

I swear, if that giant newt bastard didn’t kill Marcy, I’ll finish the damn job myself!

Her murderous thoughts finally drove her into the embrace of sleep.

…

The journey to the emergency cache was a long one.  It was determined that her, Grime, Stumpy, Ivy, and Wally would be the ones to head out, given their notable strength, agility, and surprising durability, respectively. They tried to keep hidden, opting to go through the forests to avoid being out in the open and spotted by Andrias’ army. Along the way, Sasha led from far in front. Grime stayed back with the others to look out for them. They might have been the best fighters they had, but they were still novices. 

Ivy narrowed her eyes at Sasha before reaching up and tugging Grime’s arm, “Is there something wrong with Sasha?”

Grime stared down at the small frog, who instinctively shrunk back a bit at the toad’s gnarly-looking facial features, “Nothing that’s out of the ordinary.”

“Really?” Ivy cocked her head, “Because she’s a bit… colder than usual.”

“Yeah!” Wally said, maybe a tad too loudly, “I mean, you saw her during sparring. I nearly had to pay Loggle a visit to get a replacement for my one good eye, and I can’t afford that!”

“I’m worried about her,” Stumpy agreed, slashing away branches in front of him, “something seems to be bothering her.”

Usually, Grime wasn’t one to tolerate soldiers talking bad behind their commanding officer’s back, but this time, it might have been warranted. Ever since they had made the promise to protect Wartwood, Sasha had grown more and more single minded. She spent most of her time training and prepping; all of it validated by the fact that they were being hunted down by a psychopathic king hellbent on invading other worlds, yet the manner Sasha went through it all was concerning.

Grime ran up to Sasha.

“How far are we, Grime?” she asked on his approach.

Grime pulled out his map and pointed to where he estimated they were, “We’re a few miles away. If we keep going, we should make it there by the dead of night, just as planned.”

“Hm,” Sasha placed a hand on her chin and glanced over at the others. She noticed how tired they were, shoulders hung low and eyes barely staying open. “Actually, maybe we should make camp here and get some rest.”

“Lieutenant, is that advisable at this point?” Grime asked.

“Yes,” Sasha said firmly, “We need to be extra alert if we’re going to pull this off. We keep pushing the others, and they'll be exhausted by the time we get there.”

Grime conceded, realizing Sasha had a good point. They set up camp in a clearing in the forest, complete with simple bed rolls, while Sasha gathered wood for fire. Grime had taken the liberty of killing a giant mantis to be eaten for dinner. Sasha placed the wood in a makeshift pit and used her swords to light a fire.

“They were talking about me, weren’t they?”

Grime turned to Sasha, the fire glowing in her eyes as she tended to it, “They’re worried, Sasha, and I can’t really blame them.”

“Ugh,” Sasha groaned, “Why is everyone so worried? I’m fine. Just because I watched someone I considered my best friend admit to trapping me in this God-forsaken world and stab me in the leg, everyone thinks I’m some fragile porcelain doll."

Grime exhaled, placing the mantis legs on sticks to roast over the fire, “When are you going to tell them about that?”

For the first time in a long time, Sasha didn’t have a response. Then again, how could she? Exactly what was the way to go about telling an entire town of frogs that fawned over Marcy (once they got to know her, that is) that she turned out to be a prophesied conqueror who turned her back on everything and everyone that ever loved her?

“Let’s just eat and get some rest,” Sasha deflected, “We’re going to need it.”

Grime didn’t push the issue any further, and it’s not like it would matter anyway. Sasha just laid out on her bed roll, took her hairpin out, and allowed herself to stare up longingly at the sky.

…

Well-fed and well-rested, the group finally arrived at the remnants of a small town at the edge of the Valley. From the way the road opened to reveal it, Sasha could see how the buildings and homes that used to be there were nothing but tattered remains. A guard tower had been erected in the town square, presumably where Andrias’ frobots would be stationed to watch out for any intruders. Upon spotting it, the group ducked behind some trees. Peeking out, Sasha noticed how the town was completely quiet.

“Alright,” Grime began, moving out and sticking to the town’s edges. “The stash should be located in that building right there,” he pointed to a fairly larger building located on the further side of the town, which Sasha had presumed to be a school building.

The group stuck close to one another, as Ivy and Wally served as their lookouts. They took their time as they made their way through the town, occasionally ducking in and out of buildings. Wally noticed how the insides of the buildings were completely bereft.

“Whoa, what kind of town is this?” Wally quietly asked.

“One that didn’t rouse suspicion,” Grime said. “The toads set it up so we were able to hide our emergency supplies in plain sight.”

Sasha had to admit to herself that it was a pretty clever plan, akin to something of a Potemkin village that she had learned about in history class. Soon enough, the group found themselves at the door of the school building. Readying their weapons, Grime and Sasha cautiously opened the door, and were surprised to find nothing waiting for them on the other side.

“Stash is in the basement, let’s move.” 

The group proceeded down a flight of wooden stairs and into the basement, where the storage room was packed to the gills with all types of rations, medicines, and weapons.

“Wow…” was all Sasha could manage. 

“You can marvel at it later. Grab as much as you can.” Grime ordered as the group individually bagged as much of the room’s supplies as they possibly could. Ivy focused on getting the medical supplies, while Stumpy and Wally focused on grabbing the various types of non-perishable foods that were available. 

“Ohhhh boy!” Wally said as he grabbed a handful of boomshrooms. “I missed these babies!”

“Be careful with those things, will ya?” Stumpy scolded, as Wally stuck out his tongue and put them in his green bag. Grime and Sasha focused on grabbing weapons.

“This is going to be great for morale!” Grime laughed, picking up a rather large looking two-handed sword, “Don’t you think Sasha?”

Sasha wasn’t paying attention. Handling all of these weapons reminded her of when she would spend time as a kid sneaking into her mother’s closet and fiddling with her baton, trying on her police uniform, and one time, accidentally discharging her Taser.

“Sasha! I told you not to touch my uniform! Or my equipment! Put those away, you’re going to hurt yourself!”

Sasha grimaced. If only her mother could see her now…

“Lieutenant?” Sasha was shaken out of her own head by Grime, and responded by shrugging him off. “Ok guys, there’s a wagon waiting for us on the outskirts of town. Let’s get this stuff there, fast.”

Everyone did as they were told, making haste up the stairs and out the door of the building.

“Man, I can’t believe how easy this was!” Ivy cheered.

“I know,” Wally agreed, “It’s almost as if the robots purposefully made it seem like the town was empty to lure us in!”

A dumb smile plastered on his face, everyone around Wally paused. Sasha froze, an especially shocked look on her face. She never even considered the idea that might be a possibility; and just as soon as that thought crossed her mind, the town square was suddenly bathed in a bright light. The group had to shield their eyes to protect their vision. 

Suddenly, they heard the whirring of a power source starting up, and as the floodlights were taken off them, they finally saw multiple frobots surrounding them on all sides, their giant blasters at the ready.

“Oh frog me…” Grime cursed.

…

No sooner after being discovered, the group was thrown into a rusty, makeshift cage. Their weapons were confiscated as two frobots stood guard by their prison. 

“Welp,” Stumpy laid his head back against the bars, “this mission sure went south fast. So much for a ‘resistance’.”

“The King’s probably on his way here now!” Ivy panicked, “He’s going to put us away forever! I’ll never see Sprig again!”

“I think seeing the frog child again is the least of our problems,” Wally firmly told Ivy. “We’re doomed, I say! DOOMED!”

Listening to such critique hurt Sasha. Of course, she never let the others, even Grime, see it. Yet, here she was: the proud Lieutenant of the former Toad Army, and the Commander of the Wartwood Resistance, reduced to a shackled prisoner because of her inability to spot a trap that was so obvious in hindsight.

Groaning at her own stupidity, Sasha banged her head against her armored knees, “Stupid, stupid, stupid…”

Next to her, Grime hung his head in shame. Like Sasha, he inwardly belittled himself for not seeing through the trap. He was more concerned, however, about Sasha and her well-being, even if he didn’t want to admit it aloud.

“Sasha-“

“Don’t!” Sasha shouted, waving her hand in case Grime tried to put a calming hand on her shoulder. “I’m not in the mood!”

“We need to think about how we’re going to get out of here.” Grime explained, to which Sasha scoffed.

“Who’s to say we’re getting out of this, alive at that?” Sasha solemnly asked, which made the others wince, “Besides, what if they’re expecting us to do that? They’re probably lying in wait for us on the other side of these bars!"

“Maybe they aren’t?” Ivy piped up.

“That’s what I thought about this place, and look where that got us!” Sasha’s shouting made Ivy curl up in a semi-ball, obviously unnerved by the human’s harsh words.

“None of us considered the possibility that this might be a trap. You aren’t the only one.” Grime sympathized.

“Well,” Wally interrupted, “Actually, I-“

Grime snapped his head towards the one eyed frog, and if looks could kill, Wally would be as good as dead right then and there. Quivering in fear under Grime’s hateful glare, he quickly shut his mouth.

“It doesn’t matter, Grime!” Sasha yelled, “I’m the Commander of this entire resistance! I have to take responsibility for this failure! Damnit, I’m such an idiot!”

Grime watched as struck herself on the head. “Sasha, you’re not-“

“Don’t patronize me, Grime!” Sasha shouted. “I’m an idiot, and now we’re all going to pay for it! Stupid me! I should’ve known this whole mission was a trap! But hey, it isn’t like it’s the FIRST time it’s happened!”

“Sasha, you might want to-“

“I should’ve known something was up with Marcy from the very beginning! Ever since we met back up, that girl’s been totally off! If I had, then she wouldn’t have been able to deliver the music box to Andrias on a SILVER FUCKING PLATTER!”

“Sasha-”

“Her and her ancestors have been screwing things up for hundreds of centuries, and now Andrias is gearing up for a MASSIVE INVASION! ALL BECAUSE I COULDN’T SEE THAT MARCY WAS A LITTLE SLIMY TRAITOR!”

Her chest rose and fell erratically. Her heart pounding against her ribcage like a Cherokee drum. 

Then, it dawned on her what she just let slip out. She slowly turned around and saw the shocked reactions of Stumpy, Ivy, and Wally. The crab leg that usually hung from Stumpy’s lips fell to the ground. Ivy and Wally just sat there, mouths agape. 

“Shit.” 

“Marcy’s…evil?” Ivy asked.

“Of all the people…” Stumpy said, his prosthetic hands dropping to his side.

“Jeez, and they call me loony.” Wally said, scratching his head through his hat.

The three just grumbled together as they processed the fresh news. Grime groaned as he felt a stress induced headache come on. Sasha was about to say something, until she heard the heavy footsteps approaching the cage. A frobot’s red eyes stood hauntingly down at the captive group.

“What do you want? Here to finish us off?” Grime asked, ready to fight despite being outmatched without his weapons. 

“Negative .” The frobot remarked. “ I have received orders to put you in contact with the king.”

A section of the frobot’s chest opened up, revealing a screen that transmitted static. It soon evened out and transmitted an image of the mad King himself.

“Heyyyyy Sasha!” Andrias greeted. “Wow, it’s been a minute, hasn’t it? Honestly, I didn’t think you were alive after all this time! You know how many robots I sent to track you down? A ton, and I do mean A TON!”

Sasha gripped the bars of the cage and ground her teeth. She would love nothing more than to rip that newt bastard’s face off! 

“I’m just glad you were actually stupid enough to walk into such an obvious trap! And I mean obvious! Like really, how did you not see this coming?” Andrias giddily mocked the girl.

“If you’re going to kill me, then just get it over with!” Sasha barked, making the others pale.

“Oh nononono!” Andrias wagged his finger, “I’m not going to kill you. In fact, I need you and your friends alive. I was thinking of parading you through the streets of Newtopia as people throw rotten food at you, then locking you up in the castle’s dungeon, maybe a little torture here and there…”

The group just listened to the mad King ramble on and on with a psychotic sense of wonder as he described such graphic violence in vivid detail. 

“But trust me, I’m not going to kill you…” 

“Yeah, I believe you as much as I believe that the Earth is flat!” Sasha snarled.

“Wait, it is flat, isn’t it?” Wally asked Stumpy.

“Yeah, I mean,” Stumpy wondered, “that’s what my parents told me.”

“Not the time, guys!” Grime interrupted the two, getting them to be quiet.

“Well actually, Sasha,” Andrias said, “I need you alive.” 

“And why is that?” Sasha stuck her face through the bars, her cheekbones brushing against the metal. Andrias just smiled and stepped aside, showing a bacta tank in the center of a room, with a young teen floating in suspension, a wetsuit and tubes attached all around. Sasha audibly gasped. 

Marcy…

“Because she isn’t done with you,” Andrias sneered. “Not by a long shot.”

The feed went dead; a haunting, unsettling way to sign off as everyone in the cage drank in a new atmosphere of dread and anxiety. Sasha’s arms dropped to her side, her head hung and leaning up against the bars. Distraught, she found herself completely lost and helpless.

The rest of the group wasn’t taking it well, either. Wally’s teeth chattered like a woodchipper. Stumpy couldn’t stop hyperventilating as he held his prosthetic hands over his head. Ivy actually started to cry a bit, experiencing things that no child should have to endure. She reflexively pulled out a small, simple slingshot that the frobots didn’t bother to confiscate since she didn’t have anything to use with it, cradling it in her hands. Sasha surmised that it was given to her by Sprig.

Grime was stone-faced but was still trying to hold things together, “Listen guys, we need to calm down and think of a plan-”

“There is no plan.”

Such a solemn statement from a truly crestfallen individual. Sasha huddled her knees close to her chest. Grime approached her. “Sasha-”

“It’s over, Grime,” Sasha sternly told him, “We’re outnumbered, we have no weapons, and we’re about to be handed over to a mad King who wants nothing more than to see us suffer. We lost.”

“Don’t give up just-”

“End. Of. Discussion!”

This time, both Grime and Sasha widened their eyes. Clasping her hands over her mouth, Sasha tried to approach Grime, but the battle-scared toad was able to get the message and backed off, skulking to the opposite side of the cage and settling in for the night. 

How…how could I say that? Sasha thought. After everything I’ve done, and after I promised to do better…

Sasha looked around and saw how scared and anxious everyone was. When she came back to Wartwood, she promised to defend it, to become a leader. She wanted to become a better person, not just for herself, but for her friends, more specifically for Anne. Now, when she looked around, she realized she could only call herself one thing.

A failure.

It rested on her mind as she lapsed into sleep.

…

By the time morning dawned, the frobots had gathered all of the emergency cache’s supplies into a massive pile in the center of the Potemkin village. On the King’s orders, they were to be returned to Newtopia. Sasha and the rest of the group were awoken just as the sun crested over the horizon. They were herded out of the cage in chains and shackles, being led like lambs to the slaughterhouse towards their own getaway wagon. A red snail was hitched to the front, having been stolen by Grime earlier in the week so as not to risk Bessie’s life during the mission. Sasha thanked herself given the situation she was in.

“So this is how it ends, huh?” Stumpy asked.

“‘Fraid so, old friend,” Wally mourned. “I always wanted to see the capital, but I never thought I’d do it in chains.”

“Come on, Sasha,” Ivy called out, “you’ve gotta have something up your sleeve.”

For once, Sasha did not. She just remained stoic as ever, head down and eyes closed. She hadn’t spoken all morning, not since uttering those three words to her closest ally in this world. She had thought it best to just keep her mouth shut for once in her short life. She suddenly bumped into the cold metal of one of the frobots. Everyone behind her collided into the backs of the person in front of them, crumbling to the ground in a heap. Sasha turned to make sure everyone was alright, then redirected her attention at the robot, who just stared back at the blonde with its beady, red eyes.

“My apologies ,” the robot said, “ we must first complete an inventory check of the supplies. Please wait here.”

The frobot walked back towards the massive pile to help the others in counting up everything to make sure it was actually all there for the king’s liking. Resigned to her fate, Sasha just dropped to the ground and sat there, waiting for them to be done and to take them to what might just be their prison for the rest of their lives. Sasha began to think back on all the people she had left behind on Earth. Her mother, who had probably searched all across the city looking for her. Her father, who, despite his goofy nature, loved his daughter more than life itself. Her friends at school, her two dogs, the rest of her family.

It was all too much for Sasha to take. She started to cry, this time not caring for the fact that the others were watching her. She brought her manacled hands up to her face to wipe the tears away, irritating her already puffy eyes. Holding her face in her hands, she ran her coarse fingers through her matted, gangly long blonde hair, her fingers tracing over her hairpin, resting them on the nape of her-

Wait…

She brought her hands back up to just above her right ear and found it. She pulled the hairpin out and held it in front of her. The frobots must not have taken it from her when she was thrown into the cage last night. The light reflected off the metal and created a glare that made Sasha shut one eye. She looked at the wagon, seeing that the door had been left open, and then back at the supply pile, noticing an open bag on top, the one that Wally had been carrying.

In it, there were a handful of boomshrooms. Like a lightbulb had gone off in her head, Sasha had an idea.

“Hey Ivy.”

Not just the girl, but the entire group gasped as they looked up at Sasha, who had turned around to show them the sudden revival of her fierce resolve that burned passionately in her eyes.

“U-uh,” Ivy stuttered, “yeah…?”

“Do you still have that slingshot that Sprig gave you?”

Ivy dug into her pocket and pulled said slingshot out, “Right here, but it’s not like we have anything to use.”

“I beg to differ.” Sasha held up the hairpin and threw it to Ivy, who caught it in her small hands. “Now, Sprig’s taught you a few things, right?”

“Yeah,” Ivy scratched her head awkwardly, “but I haven’t actually used it in a fight yet.”

“Well, no better time than the present.” Sasha directed her gaze towards the bag of boomshrooms. “You see that green bag at the top of the pile?”

Everyone followed Ivy and eyed the bag, but Wally especially recognized it. “Wait a second, that’s my bag! It’s got the boomshrooms in it!” Grime slammed his giant hands over Wally’s mouth, making sure his big mouth didn’t get them caught.

“Exactly!” Sasha confirmed, “If you can rip a hole large enough in the bag to release them, it'll set them off, and it might provide us with a distraction to get out of here.”

“But,” Grime protested, “the supplies! It’ll destroy them!”

“We don’t have a choice here, Grime!” Sasha said, “The most important thing we need to do right now is get out of here alive. The Resistance is doomed if we get handed over to Andrias! Are you willing to prioritize some stupid supplies over our own lives?!”

Grime groaned. He knew Sasha was right; he just didn’t want this entire mission to be for nothing. He turned towards Ivy, “Go for it, kid.”

Ivy nodded, knocking the hairpin into the slingshot. She closed her least dominant eye and lined up her sights with the bag. She made a quick note of the slight breeze coming in from the west, and the temperature in the air that might slow down the shot. She remembered all of these things that Sprig told her when he was showing her how to use a slingshot, but it was his most important piece of advice that echoed through her head at that moment.

Right before you shoot, breath in for four seconds, hold it for four more, then breath out for four seconds. You’ll make your shot everytime.

She didn’t realize that she had gone through the motions until she let the hairpin fly. 

It soared through the air as the group watched. This was their only chance; if this failed, they could kiss their hopes of freedom goodbye. Sasha and Grime watched with bated breath, Wally shielded his eyes, unable to watch, while Stumpy placed his hand on Ivy’s shoulder, trying to calm her nerves as she prayed that she wasn’t responsible for failing to save them. 

SCHRRRRRRRRT!

The sound of cloth ripping reverberated quietly as the group saw the top of the bag break open. The frobots still taking inventory perked up a bit at first, but thought little of it. For a few seconds, nothing came out of the bag. Sasha’ heart sank. Had something else been in the bag that she hadn’t accounted for? Grime and Stumpy hung their heads, Wally pulled his hat over his face, and Ivy dropped her slingshot. This was on her.

Until they caught a few shades of blue fall from the bag! Everyone gasped, which was what got the frobots attention. They didn’t see the boomshrooms that had tumbled down the mountain of supplies, activating once they hit the ground. One of the frobots picked up on the sounds.

“What is that sound?”

The rhythmic beeping drew their attention to the boomshrooms on the ground. They all widened their eyes.

“Uh oh.”

They didn’t even feel the explosive blast. It tore them apart as the supplies flew left and right! Burned rations and bent steel were all that remained of the emergency supply cache. Sasha and the rest of her group were blown backwards, shielding themselves from the flying debris. Smoke billowed around the town square, but Sasha could make out the remains of the frobots scattered around. The time to make her move was now.

“Let’s move! GO GO GO!” Sasha ordered as the group scrambled to their feet. They moved clumsily as they were still chained together. They clamored into the wagon and saw that the frobots had stashed their weapons inside. 

“How are we going to free ourselves?” Stumpy said, but he got his answer as Grime grabbed his warhammer and shouldered it.

“Leave that to me!”

Grime made quick work of their rusty chains, shattering them with quick shots from his warhammer. He and Sasha scrambled to the top of the wagon and whipped the reins, the red snail making haste and speeding away from the scene. The two looked back at the smoke rising into the air before they were interrupted by the cheers from inside the wagon.

“WOOOOOOHOOOOOOO!” Wally ran around in circles pumping his fists in the air. “Ivy! That was incredible!”

“I know, right?!” Ivy said, blushing from the compliment. “I mean, I never really shot it that much before, so I was super worried I wouldn’t get it.”

“Well, you did, lassie,” Stumpy patted Ivy on the back. “You saved our keisters back there! Sprig would be proud of ya!”

Ivy hid her face behind her hat, but you could still see the massive smile on her face.

“Man, was I glad that I picked up all those boomshrooms!” Wally laughed as the three continued to thank their lucky stars that they made it out of there. Meanwhile, Sasha kept her eyes focused on the road, but she noticed that Grime was staring at her.

“Uh,” Sasha‘a eyes darted around, “is there something wrong, Grime?”

“You did it, Lieutenant,” Grime said, slapping Sasha on the back, “you saved everyone back there.”

“Oh please,” Sasha deflected, waving off Grime. “That was all Ivy and you know it. I mean, listen to them.” Sasha motioned to Stumpy, Ivy, and Wally in the wagon.

“Yes yes, Ivy got off a good shot, but you were the one who came up with that plan in the end,” Grime praised, but Sasha wasn’t so receptive. Grime noticed and exhaled with a sense of exasperation.

“Sasha, listen. I know how you’re feeling about Marcy, and trust me I do, no matter how many times you tell me otherwise. I was in that room with you, and I know how that can mess up a person. I didn’t know Marcy like you did, but I can tell that she meant a lot to you.”

Sasha sniffled a bit, and wiped her eyes just in case she started to cry again. It was true that Marcy had meant so much to her; her betrayal was way more than a knife in the back (or in her case, to the leg). It was as if she reached into her chest and ripped her heart out - that hollow feeling was all that remained in its place. No matter how many times she fantasized running her sword through her former best friend, she couldn’t help but mourn how far she had fallen.

Sasha wondered if maybe she had a hand in it. She thought back on all the times she had told Marcy that she didn’t care about the things that she liked; how she just went along with Marcy’s Creatures and Caverns games, not caring if she accidentally rolled her character to its death. All this time that she wanted to prove to Anne that she could be someone worthy of being called her best friend, she had completely forgotten about Marcy.

“She…” Sasha started, “she did mean a lot to me…”

There wasn’t much more that Sasha could say other than that. Her emotions were in such a whirlwind that it was hard to process much of anything. Sasha just took a deep breath and focused on the road.

“Let’s just focus on getting back to Wartwood for now,” Sasha declared. “We’re going to have a lot to explain.”

...

"All of our troops were wiped out completely, and the supplies that the Resistance gathered were destroyed."

Andrias could do nothing but run his hand over his face in frustration. His advisor, a meek newt in comparison to the king himself, shrunk back, afraid that he would be struck down for delivering such bad news.

"Alright, that'll be all," Andrias waved him off, "I need to think about this."

The royal advisor could skedaddle out of there fast enough if he could try. The news was a blow to his plan. He had it all planned out, and delivering Sasha to Marcy would've been the icing on the cake that curried favour with his Master. Now? All he had to show for it was a pile of charred metal frobots and burned rations. Rising from his throne, he opened the secret passageway in the wall and descended the stairs to the basement. Arriving it front of the large door that housed his...personal project, he opened it and stepped inside.

Taking off his crown and kneeling, he said, "My apologies, Master. I underestimated the child, and it will not happen again. I will find another way to bring both Anne and Sasha to you, and when I do, they will be all yours."

Andrias looked up and laid his eyes on the tank in front of him, of which his Master loomed over. He walked over and patted the glass and stared at the girl inside. Sighing, he simply took his leave, hoping that his plan would eventually come to fruition.

---

Splayed arms stretching out to grasp the land around her, Marcy Wu was, for the first time in a long time, at peace with herself. 

The earth beneath her trembled at her movements, the quiet moaning and bellowing of the ground music to Marcy’s young ears. Over the last few days (weeks, months maybe? Her sense of time in her subconscious was undoubtedly confusing), the lessons that she had learned from The Core, and the revelations she was made privy to, which had evaded her for the entirety of her so-far short life, now allowed Marcy to fully process the kind of person that she was, and the person she now strived to be. 

She was a warrior, a conqueror who liberated the slave that she was from the chains of her oppression. She was powerful; a destined leader who now sought to take what was rightfully hers. No one would stop her now - that was the promise she made to herself once the lessons of The Core became clear. 

The mountains in the distance moved at Marcy’s behest, ebbing and flowing like the calm, undulating waters of the sea. A satisfied smile was probably bearing itself to the world as Marcy looked upon how effortlessly she was now able to control her environment. She was so lost in her own pride that she failed to see the woman in question walk up behind her, placing her hand softly on her shoulder. This time, Marcy did not flinch or jump like she normally did.

“I see that you are getting the hang of this, dear Marcy,” she smiled, as Marcy opened her eyes and looked at the woman.

“I never thought that I would get the hang of this. You made it seem so effortless the first time.” Marcy smugly crossed her arms.

“I told you that it would take time to grasp,” the woman explained, then motioned to Marcy’s handiwork. “But now look at how far you have come, Marcy. I am so proud of you, and I know that your ancestors would be, as well.”

Marcy actually blushed at the woman’s kind words, as such praise was almost foreign to her, “Oh, wow. I…uh…thank you.”

The woman giggled at the flustered look on Marcy’s face, “Don’t be so modest, child. A girl of your unbridled skills and intellect is more than worthy of such praise.”

“I know, I know,” Marcy waved her hand. “So, what’s next on the agenda? A journey to the deepest, darkest recesses of my mind? Or, ooh, maybe a glimpse into the future?”

“Marcy, you are getting ahead of yourself.” The Core attempted to calm Marcy down. “I actually came here to tell you that it is time.”

Marcy went silent, dropping her arms to her side solemnly, “You mean…”

The woman nodded, “It is time for you to leave this place, and go forth into the world and claim what is rightfully yours.”

The Core expected Marcy to be giddy with glee, to jump up and down as if she had just won the lottery. Instead, the teen was staring at the ground, tracing the dirt with the tip of her brown dress shoe. The woman approached her and lifted her face by the chin, caressing it with her thumb and forefinger.

“What’s wrong, Marcy?” 

Marcy perked up. “Nothing! Nothing at all!” she frantically blurted out. “It’s just… it’s just so sudden. I was just getting the hang of the whole ‘moving mountains’ thing. I thought… we had more time together.”

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind Marcy’s hair, The Core’s female manifestation smiled, “Oh Marcy. Just because you will leave here does not mean that you will never see us again. We will always be with you, and once you have taken your place among the greatest conquerors that time and space have ever seen, we will be right there beside you.”

Marcy took fresh air into her lungs and stared up at the purple sky. Her gaze drifted into the distance, “I’ve always wondered what kind of world I would make when everything is all said and done.”

The woman walked forward, hands held behind her back, “Well then, perhaps I can show you.”

Kneeling down to the ground, The Core placed her palm flat on the coarse earth. A bright glow illuminated from underneath, and five rays of light shot out from each of her fingers. They extended into the horizon as from the light, grass began to grow. As the light crested in the distance, it spread upwards towards the sky, and soon everything around Marcy was covered in a blinding glare so bright that it forced the girl to shield her eyes.

All the while, the Core watched as fresh, fertile grass grew from the once dry rock. From the dark sky came the blue of a brand new, sunny day, with clouds dotting here and there. From the intimidating mountains grew a grand castle, one so big that its spire seemed to touch the heavens. Multiple smaller buildings were grouped along the foot of the castle. Floating islands littered the sky, as exotic and fantastical creatures flew gracefully.

Marcy opened her eyes and beheld the new world around her. Her jaw hung wide open as she willed herself to take a few steps forward.

“So,” The Core smiled, “What do you think?”

“WHOA-HO HO HO!” Marcy exclaimed. “It’s AMAZING! Oh WOW! It’s just like in my books!” Giddy as she could possibly be, Marcy ran across the fresh, neatly cut grass and observed several exotic plants and animals grazing in the distance. “Wooooow! The fauna here is unlike anything I’ve ever seen! And these plants?”

The woman giggled as Marcy rambled on and found herself running around the open field, finding one marvel after another. She approached the girl who had just scared off some flying mantises “Is it everything you ever imagined?”

“Is it ever?!” Marcy yelled. “It’s like everything I’ve ever read in all my favorite books!”

“Well, where do you think we got the inspiration from?” The Core revealed. “This world, this place, is everything that you have ever dreamt of, Marcy. That’s what The Core truly is: a place where your greatest dreams come true.”

Marcy stood atop the hill overlooking the village that surrounded the castle. Reaching into her sweatshirt pocket, she pulled out the rose and cornflower combination that was given to her by the woman all that time ago. She stared at it, small smile and all, and placed it in her hair.

“It’s perfect.”

Hands interlocked behind her back, The Core walked forward and beckoned Marcy to follow. The girl did as she was told, and it wasn’t long until Marcy followed behind her, walking through the streets of the town as people from all walks of life bowed or curtseyed to the girl. 

“Wow.” Marcy looked around at the revenant respect she was shown. “Everyone is so formal. Almost like I’m royalty or something.”

The woman could only smile at such a suggestion as they approached the large, hulking doors of the castle. She reached out and twisted a mechanism, activating a set of gears which, in turn, opened the doors, the marble and metal creaking against the hinges. Then and there, Marcy beheld the greatness of the castle’s lobby. An ornate chandelier hung from the high ceiling as chiseled columns decorated with stone gargoyles ran up the walls. Entrances to the various wings of the castle were in every direction, and a grand staircase that led to the castle’s upper levels stood before her. 

“And I thought the landscape looked cool,” Marcy awed, while the woman walked forward.

“There is much more to see, dear Marcy,” The Core stars as she ascended the stairs, Marcy following behind her. Along the way, Marcy continued to gape at everything that she saw, from decorative artworks to various artifacts that seemed to have been collected from the journeys of whoever called this castle home. It wasn’t long until they were in front of another set of doors, which upon opening, revealed a massive throne room, rivaling the size of King Andrias’ own. 

On either side of the room were various soldiers, decked out in heavy armor, intimidating swords in holsters at their side. As Marcy and the Core walked into the room, each soldier snapped to attention, placed a fist on their chests, and dropped to one knee. 

“Ok, why is everyone being so formal?” Marcy scratched her head.

“Why, it is always appropriate to salute one’s queen when one is in her presence.” The Core laughed, but Marcy was still confused, darting her head around the room.

“Uh, what Queen? Where?” she asked innocently, to which the woman crossed her arms and gave her a mischievous smile. It soon dawned on her.

“Wait, me?” Marcy pointed to herself, to which the woman motioned to the grand throne sitting at the end of the room, in front of a full-wall window that overlooked the rest of the lane. Tepidly, she approached the massive throne, climbing its steps and reaching out to the arm. She traced her fingers over the smooth oak, and lowered herself into the seat. She fidgeted around to get comfortable, resting her hands against the end of the armrests. 

“So, how does it feel to be the queen, Marcy?” The Core asked as she approached the foot of the steps.

“It feels…” Marcy began, looking down at her hands, before smiling, “right.”

“Remember, you have to look the part, as well.” The woman held her hand out to her, to which Marcy looked down to find that her regular clothes had been changed into a green regal dress that flowed to her feet. Atop her head was a silver crown that wrapped around her head.

Before Marcy could react to her new appearance, she noticed, on either side of the throne chair, were two smaller ones. They were the same size as one another. 

“Uh, what are these other chairs for?” she asked.

“Why, dear child, for those who will work with you to build a better world, as you so wished,” the woman said.

“Hey, Mar-Mar!”

Two voices overlapped one another, but Marcy recognized them in a heartbeat. Turning to either side of her, she saw Anne and Sasha, the same as the day they were transported to Amphibia. They each wore the same regal dress as Marcy, the difference being that Anne’s was blue and Sasha’s was dark pink. 

“ANNE! SASHA!” Marcy shrieked before grabbing both of them and wrapping them in a great big hug. “I thought I lost you two!”

Her voice was filled with sorrow as tears threatened to break through. She released the two and held them at arm's length.

Anne smiled at her, “You’ll never lose us, Marcy.” 

“We’ll be by your side forever.” Sasha droned as well.

A quick look into the eyes of both ‘Anne’ and ‘Sasha’ showed that they seemed… lifeless, soulless. Almost as if the lights were on, but nobody was home. Their smiles were unnerving, like strings were forcefully pulling the corners of their mouths. But Marcy didn’t care. She was just happy they were here.

Anne looked as beautiful as ever, her radiant glow warming Marcy’s heart. She wasn’t yelling at her, or calling her a liar. She loved her just as she was, and that’s all Marcy wanted from her. Sasha was different, too. She was no longer the toxic manipulator that defined her. She seemed to be actually be interested in her and her interests, instead of carelessly dismissing them as nonsense. And Marcy loved it.

“Don’t you see, Marcy?” The Core asked, ascending the steps and placing a hand on her shoulder. “This is your world. A perfect world. One free of strife and sorrow. The same one that has been promised to you.”

Marcy looked at her dress, then towards her friends, whose unnerving smiles just grew wider, “I was meant for this moment.” The simple insinuation that she brought up in Andrias’ throne room never rang more true than it did now.

“That’s right, dear Marcy,” The woman affirmed, taking her hand and leading her out towards a balcony that overlooked the vast kingdom below her, “Take a look at this world. It represents prosperity and hope; the promise for a better future for all, and all of the things that you wish that you can do for your world. You have the possibility to change it for the better; to be immortal in both life and legacy. Such is the way for only the greatest of the Wus.”

A swell of pride built up in Marcy’s chest. Never before had she been praised so highly by anyone. She was always considered to be a klutz by some and an annoyance by others, despite her gift of intelligence. Yet, here she was, being praised by the representation of some of the greatest minds Amphibia had to offer, such minds including her very own ancestors.

“But…” Marcy began as she looked expectedly at The Core.

“But what, dear Marcy?” 

“There’s usually some kinda rug-pull to something like this.” Marcy crossed her arms, to which The Core giggled once again.

“I should have expected you to catch on eventually.” With that, the woman extended her arms and flexed her fingers in the air. In an instant, the bright sky grew dark, and the clamors of panic grew below them. Marcy looked around at the world changing before her, when she could see something on the horizon. It was a massive army, carrying swords, shields, axes, and all sorts of other weapons. Based on its size, it could easily take the kingdom by force.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Marcy asked.

“Why, I am showing you what lies ahead for you,” the woman said as the army gained speed as the villagers below ran to the safety of their homes.

“But,” Marcy stuttered and looked into the throne room to see Anne, Sasha, and her soldiers staring at her, as if they were waiting for a command, “but you’ll destroy the town. You’re… you’re going to destroy my perfect world!”

“Exactly.” The Core’s voice had distorted into a low growl as she morbidly turned her head towards Marcy with a sick crack. Gone were the porcelain features of the woman, and instead, in front of her, was the dark, looming spectre that had threatened her some time ago. The experience made Marcy reflexively grab her throat, the feeling of the black, oily tentacles on her skin making her shudder.

“And what will you do to protect your perfect world, child?”

Marcy looked down at the village, seeing the army draw closer and closer. It was clear now that this was a test. The final test given to her by The Core. Everything that she had been thrown into, taught, and subjected to. It had all led to this very moment. Marcy knew that The Core, no longer the woman, wanted her to make a decision; to do whatever it took to protect her perfect world.

And Marcy did just that. A solemn look of grit and determination on her face, she transformed her regal dress into a set of black, hardened armor, decked out head to toe. Closing her eyes, she willed herself to levitate into the air until she rose high above the castle. The gray clouds continued to gather as Marcy drew her arms up and to her sides. Thunder boomed around her and lightning arced through the sky. She could feel the raw power building up inside of her. She remembered when she couldn’t even make a bunch of rocks form into a statue of Anne. And now…

She was going to lay waste to whoever threatened her perfect world. No matter how many lives she had to take.

Marcy opened her eyes, and they shone with the orange hue of The Core’s. Zeroing in on the army as they approached the gates of the town, Marcy raised her hand and thrust it towards them, sending a bolt of lightning towards the front garrison of the army’s ranks. It struck the ground with absolute brutality, vaporizing the poor souls it had hit. The ground charred black as Marcy suddenly zoomed down and towards the confused and rattled army. Curling her arms, she thrust them down, carving narrow trenches into the ground that sucked in many soldiers.

Marcy landed and caused a shockwave that threw everyone around her back. She curled her fingers and threw them into the air as deadly rock spikes rose from the ground and impaled several more soldiers. The few that dared to charge at Marcy found themselves on the receiving end of brutal hand to hand combat, as the girl enhanced her strength to the point that a single punch could kill an adversary. As more and more bodies dropped to the ground, the remaining legions made their last stand, and Marcy, as unhinged as ever, beckoned them forward.

What followed could only be described as a massacre. Bodies were torn apart, limbs were severed, and blood began to run. It was all a blur to Marcy, as the extreme use of her powers over the landscape made her get lost in all the carnage. The last thing she remembered was bringing the mountainside down on the last remaining vestiges of the invading army, followed by her stomping on the head of the sole survivor as he reached out and begged for mercy. Finally regaining her bearings, Marcy looked around at the devastation left in her wake. She noticed that she was covered in blood, her black armor stained dark red. 

And she felt…proud.

Her deep breathing became a series of giggles, which quickly devolved into outright maniacal laughter. She levitated into the air and made her way back to the castle, the blood of her enemies washing off of her like rain off her waterproof jacket. She landed precariously back onto the balcony as the clouds began to clear, the sun returning to grace the land with a brand new day. The villagers came out of the houses and had seen that they had been saved by their Queen, their God.

Every knee bent in prostration before Marcy, and every tongue sang praises to her. Marcy looked back into the throne room once again, and saw her soldiers doing the same. Beside her were Anne and Sasha, their lifeless gazes and creepy smiles comforting Marcy. The Core’s female manifestation had returned, and she walked over to her like she had done many times before, placed a hand on her shoulder, leaned forward so their foreheads were touching, and both of them closed their eyes.

“You’re ready.”

…

Somewhere deep in the bowels of Newtopia’s castle, locked behind a heavy door, sat a bacta tank. Nestled safe within this glass womb was its patient, hooked up to various tubes and a breathing mask, being monitored for any and all signs of life. 

She was dressed in a wetsuit, floating aimlessly in the cool medical fluids. Until one of her fingers twitched. Alarms blared and claxons wailed as the water began to drain from the tank.

Marcy Wu opened her eyes.

Notes:

And scene!

Marcy is finally out of her subconscious, and is ready to wreak havoc! I cannot way to show you guys how this is all going to play out. Next chapter, we are returning to Earth, where we are going to see the aftermath of the Cloakbot battle in the junkyard, and how Anne will finally have to confess the entirety of what happened in Amphibia. Get your tissues, folks, because its gonna get heavy, which is saying something for this story.

Anyway, as always, reviews and constructive criticism are welcome! I'll see you all in the next chapter!

This is TheAllTimeGreatest signing off!

Chapter 14

Chapter by TheAllTimeGreatest

Summary:

Marcy is released from the bacta tank as Andrias' plans for her come to fruition, just as they are confronted by two familiar faces. In the aftermath of the junkyard battle, Anne is forced to come clean to her parents about what really happened during her time in Amphibia.

Notes:

Hey there, guys! Remember us, your favorite Amphibia story (hopefully lol)?

I feel like I'm constantly having to apologize for the long waits between chapters, but I am hoping that what we've got for you today more than makes up for it. This one gets a bit heavy at times, in both parts, as I stated at the end of the previous chapter, since it involves both Marcy finally embracing the darkness, and Anne confessing everything, and I mean everything, that happened in Amphibia. Again, shoutout to MagicMan and Milasia for their efforts in helping me edit and complete this chapter.

Now, let's get into it.

The spiral staircase shook as Andrias bounded down each step. He normally wouldn’t make this journey with such haste, but the sudden message from his master made such an occasion an exception. After heaving open the large, heavy stone door, the King beheld the site of the bacta tank, completely empty of its mixture of water and healing liquids. No sooner than he realized that, he saw that he was staring into the dark brown eyes of Marcy Wu. 

Andrias gasped, “She’s awake.”

The mechanical tubes linking Marcy’s wetsuit to the tank disconnected from her, her feet clunking on the ground. The loud hiss of steam filled the air as a sliding door opened at the front of the tank. Lifting a frail hand—the bony, skinny texture exposing her veins—Marcy tore the breathing mask from her face. Marcy inhaled fresh air for the first time in what seemed like an endless eternity, her chest rapidly expanding like a hot air balloon. Her strangled breaths became slower and steadier as she quickly acclimated back to the real world. Once she had somewhat composed herself, she lifted her head and saw Andrias standing there, having witnessed the entire thing.

The perturbed king reached out, “Marcy…”

She smiled, “Andrias.”

Marcy took one step, and promptly fell flat on her face. A dull thud reverberated around the metal walls as the girl let out a pained groan. Andrias rushed to her side and propped her up against the tank. Her arms felt just as weak, but she was able to keep herself upright, laying her back against the glass. 

“Take it easy, Marcy,” Andrias cautioned, carefully smoothing out Marcy’s hair with a single finger. “You’re back.”

Marcy looked around, no longer seeing the lush green pastures, or the tall, great purple mountains that towered into the dark, luminescent sky. All she saw was a dimly lit room. Holding her hands up in front of her, she noticed how neatly trimmed her nails were, her skin smooth despite their frail appearance. She stuck two fingers into her mouth, probing around and feeling the two molars she swore she had spit up in the throne room. 

“You can thank the Mossman for that,” Andrias explained, sounding quite proud. “The healing tank has brought some of our bravest warriors back from the cusp of death. It’s almost like you were never injured.”

Not the wisest choice of words. Marcy gasped, clutching her chest as the recollection of a white hot fire burning deep in her chest nearly made her heart stop. She doubled over in anguish as Andrias attended to her.

“You stabbed me.”

Andrias flinched. His tremendous flame appeared to deflate a little. He sat down and crossed his legs, turning his head away from her, “It was an accident. Your f... Sasha was standing right behind you. I aimed to stop her but... well, she dodged.” 

He couldn’t look her in the eye. For all his strength, he couldn’t bear to catch a glance of what he presumed would be her hate-filled eyes boring themselves deep into his soul. If he did dare to look up, he would notice how shaken she was, like a wound up ball of nerves and fraught emotions barely holding itself together. Her hands traced over her chest; it was as if she could still feel the light emitting from Andrias’ sword, its heat radiating through her body as it tore her insides apart, like a knife through butter. Another pained gasp croaked out of the girl as she fell to the floor once more. Finally looking up, Andrias saw Marcy’s blank stare and cautiously reached out to pat her on the back, doing his best to make sure he didn’t crush her with his giant palm.

The anger was palpable. Marcy realized that Sasha and Anne… both were responsible for what happened to her. If it wasn’t for their betrayal, she never would have had to have done the things she did, nor would she have been accidentally impaled and placed in a tank to recover within her own mind. 

“They… did this to me.” 

Andrias felt his palm lift up, and noticed that Marcy was making her way up to her feet. Her muscles strained as they cried out in pain. She clawed at the glass tank and pulled herself up, leaning against the apparatus to make sure she didn’t fall.

“They should have listened to me. I… we… were going to give them everything.”

Her head lulled back as she stared with glassy eyes up into the darkness of the chamber. The same darkness that greeted her in her subconscious after condemning her best friend. The pains of her failures to convince them to join her made her skin crawl as she rapped her knuckles against the tank.

And then, Marcy smiled. 

And she giggled.

“If they won’t see the light...” Marcy stumbled forward on wobbly legs, “I’ll make them feel the heat.”

Andrias was careful not to touch Marcy; the girl’s shaky and unhinged demeanor was a clear warning sign to him. Marcy rubbed her hands along her face and pulled her skin back, pawing at her cheekbones as her lips split along her jaw, baring her teeth. 

“For what lies ahead, we need to make sure that you are well prepared,” Andrias said, before ordering multiple frobots into the room. “We’ve got a… lot to discuss, Marcy.”

They surrounded Marcy and acted with as much care and tenderness as lifeless robots could possibly manage, especially given her unstable demeanor. As if on cue, in the middle of the room, a chair rose up from the ground in which the frobots sat her down . They took her vitals to make sure that there was no long term damage from such a long time in the bacta tank. They pumped her full of fluids to try and help her regain some of her muscle. They even cloaked her in a soft warm blanket and started brushing her soaking wet mess of hair.

As Marcy was fussed over like a prize poodle, she just lulled her heavy head, staring aimlessly at her surroundings. Every time she closed her eyes, she could vividly see the perfect world that the woman had created for her; the mystical beasts soaring through the bright blue skies and the castle peaks ascending into the clouds. Yet, here she was, sat in this dark, drab underground chamber. 

Her heart only sunk further when she caught a good look at her reflection in the frobots’ polished carapaces.

She looked dreadful . Her appearance hadn’t changed much, but Marcy could no longer recognise this miserable creature staring back at her with exhausted, cavernous eyes, completely zapped of all the youthful innocence and joy that had made her the apple of her parents’ eye.

Spitefully, she started making faces at herself.

“—cy. Marcy!”

Marcy was caught with her tongue sticking out. Her eyes blinked slowly out of sync, “Whaaa?”

“Did you hear what I just said?”

Wiping away a trial of saliva from the corner of her mouth, she let out an uncouth yawn, “Sorry, Andrias. Million miles away. What were you saying?”. 

One large palm to an equally large face later, Andrias took a deep, calming breath.

‘Patience, Andrias, she’s been in a coma for weeks.’

“I was saying,” he spoke evenly, snapping his fingers, “my master informs me it’s time to proceed with the next step of our grand design. We now need to prepare you.”

“For what?”

Andrias paced around with hands behind his back, “The purpose of The Core entering your subconscious was more than just a free therapy session while you healed, my dear. We needed you to get better acquainted, get used to sharing the same headspace before your...” He stopped for a moment, his brow furrowing. “Your integration.” ’

Now Marcy looked alert and invested in what she was being told. She brushed off a frobot who was filing her fingernails and leaned forward in her chair. 

“Integrated? You mean, we’re gonna--” 

“It’s not exactly what you think,” he was quick to interject. “You see, originally, the process was going to involve a complete assimilation of yourself into The Core’s main system. However, we’ve come to the conclusion that you’ve proven yourself more than capable of... being at the helm, as it were. Think of it like a relationship of codependency.”

Marcy sounded out the word. It brought up memories of biology class, where she was the only rapt with attention as her teacher explained how, in nature, two completely different organisms can live in close association with one another, where both are advantaged. 

“Symbiosis…”

Neither of them spoke for a while after that. Andrias figured it best to grant her some time to process this information. He even signaled the frobots to back off and give her some thinking space. To their credit, they’d certainly cleaned her up well; a brand new Newtopian hairclip and everything.

He observed her facial expressions closely. She didn’t come across so much as hurt as confused. 

So imagine his surprise when she started giggling. It was hollow, mirthless, betraying an underlying sadness.

“Guess you weren’t exaggerating when you said you weren’t being entirely honest with me, huh?” she gathered, staring down at her hands. She’d sorely missed the sensation of rubbing her fingers together. “So was that the plan for me all along? To be y... our master’s vessel?”

There was the hurt. It compelled Andrias to turn away and hang his head. He could feel the long suppressed, ice cold sensation of shame crawling up his back.

“A collection of our world’s greatest minds can only accomplish so much without a host, Marcy,” he spoke wistfully. “Our lord has craved one for so long, and it wanted the best, the smartest... and then you, a Wu, arrived in Amphibia. When you beat me in flipwart, that sealed the deal.”

“I see.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Marcy biting her bottom lip. The regret had now reached up and into the depths of his skull. If only there was another way, but alas, it was not like his master was going to accept any alternative.

“Will it hurt?”

Andrias did a double take. “It... well... you see, this is where it gets complicated, Marcy.” He started pacing around again, this time more anxiously. “I haven’t exactly done something like this before, so we’d be flying blind on this. This is why I’ve been pushing for us to delay the proc—”

“No.”

The flustered king blinked, “... sorry?”

Marcy gripped the armrests and, with some difficulty, forced herself to her feet. She stumbled, but propped herself up against the chair, swatting away the frobots who moved to assist her. 

“No, Andrias.” she repeated firmly. “They’re right. We should continue.” She gazed back at the tank she’d called home for weeks. “Our master did so much for me while I was in there. If they believe joining them is the right way to fulfill my destiny, then I trust them completely. I’m ready, no matter what.”

Andrias had to admit, he was impressed by her resolve. Whatever had happened inside that tank meant the girl who emerged was not the same one who went in.

“Marcy, what did you see in there?”

A powerful shiver wracked Marcy’s body. His question invoked an avalanche of memories from the first time she met the woman to the last time she felt the calming touch of her embrace. The mindblowing beauty of the mindscape and its endless potential. Confronting her past, both the good and the bad, and seeing the future that needed to be secured.

“It was beautiful, Andrias,” she began, reaching out to touch Andrias’ hand, “like nothing I’d ever experienced in the real world—”

“What’s going on here?!”

Their heads snapped around to see Lady Olivia and General Yunaan standing at the foot of the spiraling staircase that led into the chamber. Both looked in awe at the sight of Marcy, completely recovered and devoid of any visible wounds, standing on her own two feet as if nothing had happened. Before Andrias could set the frobots on them, Marcy stumbled forward with all the coordination and grace of a drunk, arms open as if she was expecting the two newts to rush into her embrace.

“Olivia! Yunnan!” Marcy twirled around, craning her neck. “So wonderful for you to join us! How’re you guys doin’? I haven’t seen either of you in like—pfff—-forever!”

Yunaan reflexively put a hand in front of Olivia, shouting: “Stay back, Olivia.” 

Olivia, a mind of her own, moved Yunaan out of the way and stepped forward. She looked upon Marcy with such mixed emotions—this delightful girl she’d taken in all those months ago, whom she’d kept safe and helped introduce to Amphibia. Although Olivia tried to maintain her patrician facade, the longer they spent with each other, the more Marcy’s charming enthusiasm for their world rubbed off on her. It began reminding her so much of herself when she was a young newt at her mother’s side.

When the mask came off in the most gruesome of fashions back in the throne room, Olivia’s heart was left broken. Seeing her now, walking around when it medically shouldn’t be possible and acting like her ‘normal’ self—she didn’t know how to feel.  

She could only ask her, “Marcy, what’s happened to you?”

“Hmm?” Marcy cocked her head like a confused puppy, before giggling. “Ohhh, you mean the whole...” She made a stabbing motion and patted her chest. “Turns out all I needed was a little R&R in a big ol’ tube of medical juice. Who’d have guessed, right? Oh, hey, question...” Her smile then took on a slightly sinister edge. “What are you two doing down here?”

“They came all the way down here to ‘rescue’ you.”

Andrias’ boot appeared out of the corner of Marcy’s eye. Scaling her vision upwards, she could see the small orange eye opening up on the front of his crown.

“What a pity, Olivia,” he tutted. “It’s one thing to lose one of my best generals, but a pillar of my court?” He sounded legitimately disappointed. “Such a shame. I could’ve used your assistance in the new order.”

Marcy’s eye twitched. Her smile fell apart as quickly as if someone had pulled an invisible lever. It was quite effectively unnerving to the two female newts. 

“Yeah,” she said simply, “what a shame.” Near robotically, she turned on her heel to walk away from them, until she felt a dainty hand take her own.

“Marcy, whatever he’s done to you, it isn't too late!” Olivia pleaded with her, near to tears. Yunaan’s glare trained on the girl only hardened. “This isn’t the girl I know!”

She could’ve easily slapped her hand away, but whether it was a remaining fondness for her or a sense of decency, Marcy gently, respectfully, brushed her off.

“Oh, Olivia,” Marcy rocked her head from side to side. “Don’t you get it?” A malicious scowl darkened her features. 

“The Marcy you knew... is dead .”

“Marcy — “

“Don’t waste your breath, Lady Olivia,” snarled Yunnan. “This traitor is too far gone to be saved.”

Putting one boot forward, Yunaan extended the metal claws from her gauntlets, thrusting the tip of the blade inches from Marcy’s face.

The Mar-Mar from Los Angeles might have been intimated. Mar-Mar from Newtopia, on the other hand, couldn’t resist smirking at the newt’s little toy. The assumed frobots pooling around her sure helped.

“Oooooh!” she mockingly cooed. “Little kitty’s got claws!”

“I have no idea what that even is!!”

Yunaan was ready to impale the girl in her smug face, against both Olivia’s pleas for her to stop and the frobots raising their arm cannons to fire in retaliation, but before she could deliver the blow, they were interrupted by the arrival of one last guest to this growing party of theirs.

A massive metallic sphere descended from the darkness above. It had its automated tendrils dug into the floor, its thirteen large, demonic orange eyes bearing down on the entire chamber. It let out a horrific shriek that made everyone in the vicinity, even Andrias himself, cover their ears.

All except for Marcy.

Without missing a beat, her knees gave out as she prostrated herself before this aberration. Arms splayed out and tears of joy running down her grinning face, she shakingly held her hand out.

“It‘s you,” Marcy’s voice barely registered above a whisper. “You’ve come back to me.”

In spite of its terrifying appearance, The Core reached out one of its tendrils towards Marcy cautiously, slowly, almost to reassure her it meant no harm. That didn’t stop Yunaan from charging forward. 

“Stay back, you abomination!” she yelled, ready to tear this thing to pieces, however foolish that idea may have been. Then, Marcy spun around and screamed, “GET AWAY!”

The sheer abruptness of Marcy’s forceful command made Yunaan jump back, and in that moment, she once again saw the wild beast from the throne room rearing its ugly head past that freshly primped veneer. How discolored her skin was, her sunken cheeks and eyes, her ragged, almost animalistic breathing. It was a sight more haunting than The Core’s prison of a body, and it actually drove Olivia to tears.

“Marcy…”

The girl crawled on all fours, like an infant making its way into its mother’s arms. Once again, she reached out to The Core.

“Please,” Marcy croaked, “I’m here. Take me.”

The Core’s tendril took her by the waist and lifted her into the air, cradling her gently so as not to harm her, before depositing her back into the seat. It went so far as to pet her on the head

“What…” Olivia approached Yunnan from behind, who was still frozen with shock. “What is that thing?”

Andrias stepped forward and gestured to the behemoth sat behind Marcy, “It is our ultimate creation: a collection of Amphibia's greatest minds, preserved for all eternity,” he proclaimed, the weight of just how long he’d been working up to this moment evident by the pride in his voice. “Studying the Mossman improved our medical technology. But it wasn’t until we met the shadowfish that we truly learned to conquer death! And thus, The Core was born!”

Yunaan and Olivia were rendered unable to do anything but watch helplessly as the machine moved and writhed around, its low droning like a predator stalking its dinner. 

“What are you doing, Andrias?!” Olivia shouted. “This is madness!”

“Wrong, Olivia,” he retorted. “Madness was allowing myself to put my trust in the wrong people! A mistake I will never make again, and to ensure this, my master will finally receive its host.”

“Olivia...” Everyone looked back at Marcy, who offered them all a soothing smile. “Everything’s gonna be okay.” 

Cuffs suddenly pinned her wrists and ankles in place. More mechanical tendrils emerged from the base of the chair, inserting themselves into the divets of Marcy’s wetsuit. Marcy steadied her breath, gripping the armrests. From above, her ears detected a whirring sound. She lifted her head and witnessed destiny approaching her in the form of a black helmet shaped like an axolotl's horns.

She could have exploded from the pressure of glee building up inside of her.

“Yes…” she husked throatily. “Yes…”

The helmet was placed snugly on her head, and Marcy felt everything all hit at once. Red code ran across the tendrils and into Marcy’s suit, raw energy pulsing from the seat. The godlike power she felt coursing through her veins was immense, and she felt as if her mind would implode right then and there. It was all so much. She clenched her teeth and dug her nails into the armrests. Her vision went blurry as she finally screamed out as loud as her lungs would allow. Andrias had warned her; the process was pure agony.

Then, it all stopped. The glow of The Core’s eyes began to fade away, as did the red glow emanating from the chair. The immense body of The Core crashed to the floor, followed promptly by Marcy’s body lifelessly slumping forward.

No - one dared to make a move. Even Andrias appeared not entirely sure what was to happen next. Olivia, assuming the worst, clasped both hands over her mouth, tears flooding down through her fingers.

All of a sudden, Marcy shot up straight, panting heavily for air. Her eyes opened, and, immediately, her vision was much clearer. She could feel the power surging in her muscles, her senses heightened to a superhuman degree. She rolled her now free wrists around as her bones audibly cracked. In the deep recesses of her mind, she could feel the presence of others, their voices echoing through her head. 

Andrias stepped forward cautiously. “Marcy? Ar — are you there?”

Marcy stood up, bones contorting and popping as she moved about like a stringless puppet. On the front of the helmet, thirteen orange eyes opened up, and with the sickest of smiles, Marcy spoke up in a voice that was her own, but at the same time, somehow wasn’t.

“Yes, Andrias.”

---

“Uuuuuuugh…”

Anne drooled out an exhausted groan, using all of her strength to raise herself up and out of her bed. She put her hand to her forehead and looked into the mirror on her wall. She was dressed in her street clothes, albeit they were wrinkled in a few places. The heavy bags under her eyes sagged, and her eyes were a slight tinge of red. Her hair was frazzled and sticking out haphazardly in all directions.

“Ugh,” Anne groaned again, “What happened last night?”

No sooner did she ask herself that question, that it all came back and hard. The living room wall being blown open, the car chase on the highway, her mother berating her, the showdown at the junkyard, Cloakbot exploding…

Anne slapped both hands over her face, “I’ve so got a lecture coming my way…”

She dragged her hands down and moaned annoyingly. Anne shielded her eyes from the morning sunlight that had suddenly decided to flood her room and attempt to blind her. She made her way downstairs, noticing the absence of any sweet aroma coming from the kitchen.

“ — eed to make sure we don’t come on too strong.”

Anne stopped dead in her tracks and hugged the wall on the landing next to the stairs. 

“Honey, she’s been lying to us. We’re her parents, we deserve to know the truth!”

“I mean, I don’t think she lied, exactly...”

“Are you serious?!”

The second, sterner voice Anne recognized as her mom’s. They were, no doubt, talking about her, and they were waiting for her to come downstairs. Anne grimaced. She did not want to talk about anything pertaining to Amphibia right now, especially this early in the morning. She considered running back to her room and hiding out for a few days. She had a stash of sweets hidden in a box in her closet that she could survive off of until the heat died down. Then again, Anne wasn’t too keen on another trip to the dentist for more cavity fillings, especially after the last time.

No. That wasn’t an option. Anne knew deep in her heart her mom was absolutely right and that this conversation really should have happened from the start. She understood that now. As much as she told the Plantars and herself it was all to keep everyone safer, she’d inevitably put both her families in danger and made the whole situation far worse than it needed to be. Honestly, she’d thought she’d taken the ‘lying never works’ lesson to heart by now. 

Time to face the music, girl.

Taking a deep breath, Anne straightened herself out, and descended the stairs. 

Right away, she heard all conversation in the living room stop, and the sounds of the others scrambling to compose themselves. Once she reached the bottom of the stairs, she saw her parents sitting on the couch, with Hop Pop next to them. Polly was sitting cross-legged in front of the television, while Sprig was up in a chair brought in from the kitchen. She noticed that the hole in their living room wall had been covered up with a tarp.

“We’re getting that taken care of,” Mrs. Boonchuy stated before Anne could comment. “But that’s not what’s important right now.”

“Take a seat, Anne,” her father instructed, gesturing to a second kitchen chair already set up for her in the center of the living room rug.

She did as she was told without a word, head held low to avoid their gaze. Her parents exchanged a brief glance, before Mr. Boonchuy took a deep breath. 

“Alright, young lady, it’s truth time.” He spoke evenly, arms folded. “Last night you said you had a lot to tell us? We’re all ears.”

His wife chipped in, “And this time, we expect you to tell us everything. No more secrets, no more half-truths. Understood?” 

Anne swallowed the lump in her throat. Her shoulders slumped lower than she thought possible. She raised her head a little and looked over at Hop Pop. He reassured her with a solemn but firm nod. 

“I’m... sorry, guys,” Anne began quietly. “I didn’t lie to hurt you. I really thought I was — ”

“You thought you were protecting everyone, we know!” Mrs. Boonchuy interjected impatiently, gesturing to the hole in the wall. “But look how that turned out, Anne: we all nearly got killed last night!”

Anne shrunk back, now wringing her hands like she would a paper towel. She didn’t even feel nervous anymore, only ashamed. 

“I know...”

Sensing she may have already gone a step too far, Mrs. Boonchuy sat back and let her husband resume the lead while she cooled down.

“Honey, right now, we don’t even know how much of what you’ve told us is true or not. It’s all about trust!” He pounded his open palm to emphasis his point.

“You’re right.” Anne now steeled herself up and faced them both squarely. “Look, everything I told you guys the day I got back? All of that was true. It’s just that after the third temple, a lot of stuff went down...” She hesitated before adding, “Bad stuff. It’s not easy to talk about.”

The atmosphere in the living room grew tenser. The growing discomfort radiating off both Anne and the frogs didn’t go unnoticed by the elder Boonchuys.

Still, Mrs. Boonchuys leant forward in her chair.

“You wanna try us?”

“... we went back to Wartwood, and for a little while, things felt like they were normal again. Sasha and I’d patched things up, we were in a Battle of the Bands show, and heck, even Grime was cool with us now.” Reliving those memories of the last time she was in Wartwood, her home for the past five months, made her smile, even if for a fleeting moment. “It wasn’t until we got back to Newtopia that things kinda went south.”

As if on cue, Mr. Boonchuy pinched his sinuses and sighed, “What did Sasha do?”

Anne might’ve laughed at that if he wasn’t as on the money than he probably realized.

“She basically worked with the toads to overthrow the government.”

“What a surprise!” he exclaimed sarcastically, arms tossed up in the air.

“Well, don’t worry, Dad,” Anne bitterly continued, “because at that point, I was finally done with her. After everything that jerk put me through, after all the excuses I made for her, I — I just wanted to — !” She had to stop herself when she realized how worked up she was already getting, and the urgent worry on both her parents’ faces. The fact she was in the middle of making a strangling gesture didn’t help.

“Anne, please tell us you didn’t — ”

Anne was mortified by the insinuation. “Oh, Dad, no! I mean, I’m not gonna lie, I was really angry. We got into a sword fight — ”

Mrs. Boonchuy gaped, “Another one?!”

“Buuut I won. We stopped the rebellion and nobody got hurt. I mean, not really... I punched Sasha in the face.”    

“Oh, honey.”

With that part of the story adequately rounded up, Anne let a pregnant pause refill the living room. If she was going to get through this, she had to go about it slowly in segments.

“Hold on, from the sound of it, you guys pretty much saved the entire kingdom,” a perplexed Mr. Boonchuy pointed out. “So why would the king be sending killer robots — ooohhhhhhh!” The lights flashed in his head. “He’s not a good guy, is he?”

“No, Dad, he’s not.”

Anne’s hand traveled up to her chest, feeling it tighten like a gordian knot. Traumatic memories of that day she’d worked hard to compartmentalize recently emerged stronger than ever before. She grabbed at her hair, sniffling and wiping away tears already accumulating in her eyes. She took a couple meditative breaths and composed herself.

“Andrias showed us who he really is,” she breathed out. “He was going on and on about restoring Newtopia to its former glory. He wasn’t helping us get back home at all, he was using us to get the box charged so he could invade Earth! Mom, Dad, this guy is crazy!”

It didn’t register that she was now on her feet and pacing a groove into the carpet. Not that it helped calm her anxiety.

Mr. and Mrs. Boonchuy watched and listened to their daughter in stunned silence. All the justified anger they felt towards her deception had melted away. Now a sense of dawning horror at the true scale of this situation had taken its place. If even half of what Anne was telling them was true, this completely eclipsed their daughter disappearing into another dimension. Their entire world was at stake.

Her mother wanted to hug her so badly, but she kept glued to her seat. She knew she needed the space at the moment.

“Anne,” she gently offered, “we can stop and take a break if you — ”

“No, Mom! I — I’ve gotta do this!” Anne wasn’t exaggerating. She’d been sitting on this for too long. If she didn’t expel it from her system now, she’d surely pass out from stress. “We then found out something else. You see, it turns out Marcy...”

Here it was. The big one. How in the world was she gonna do this? Would they even believe it? She still barely could after all these weeks.

“Go on, Anne.” Her mother’s voice rose above her mental chatter. Anne shut her eyes tight and dug down deep inside herself to find a semblance of courage to cross the threshold.

“Marcy’s the one who got us stuck in Amphibia.”

A literal pipe explosion could have gone off in the street and no-one would’ve flinched.

“Imsorrywhat?”

“Marcy is the reason I’ve been away for five months. Look, I can’t remember all the details, but what I remember is... it turns out her dad got a new job and her family was moving out of state. Sh — she was devastated, guys. She told us she found the box and knew what it would do! So she decided to literally trap me in a Death World on purpose, away from home, away from you guys because she couldn’t handle losing me and Sasha!”

It was as if a mental dam had burst and the words were now spewing out. It somehow felt terrifying and relieving at the same time. All the while, Anne made sure to continue her breathing techniques. Her poor bewildered folks didn’t dare to interrupt or ask any questions. 

“An — And if that wasn’t bad enough, she was working with Andrias the whole time! Cuz it turns out, Mar-Mar’s ancestors were super evil, interdimensional warlords! Who’d a thunk, right?!”  Anne had to force herself to laugh lest she broke down in tears completely, because, right now, the tears were springing freely. “So after that truthbomb, we got into another big fight, because we couldn’t just let them get away with it! We managed to get the box back and then... Marcy... ... ... oh god...”

All that adrenaline left her. She slumped back in her chair and buried her face into her face. It wasn’t exhaustion, nor was it really the pain of having to relive such fresh trauma. She’d remembered Sprig was still sitting in the room with them.

Out of her field of vision, a pang shot through the little pink frog’s entire being. He pulled his hat over his eyes and curled up on the wood seat to cover up his uncontrollable trembling. Almost instinctively, Polly ran over to Sprig and hopped up into his lap, holding him tight. Hop Pop did the same, leaping off the couch and embracing his grandkids.

“Anne…” Mrs. Boonchuy said, not taking her eyes off of the Plantars. “What did Marcy do?”

“Mom, she...” Anne gulped and shuddered. Vivid memories of that maniac dangling Sprig out the castle window, hundreds of feet in the air, bathed in the glow of the orange sky replayed in her brain. That wild, deranged look in her eyes. Her words rang once more in her ears. 

‘I gave you this, and I can take it all away! Now put. The box. BACK!’

Anne was fighting a war with herself, trying to find the right words. There was no way she could sugarcoat or downplay this. When she glanced over at the Plantars, who were still comforting Sprig, her vision went blurry. She could no longer stop herself from sobbing and buried her face once more.

“Mom, she dropped Sprig out of a window.”

Her parents gasped. For Mrs. Boonchuy, in particular, everything just clicked together as her eyes remained transfixed on Sprig. All of his behaviour since he arrived now made a frightening amount of sense.

No wonder he was so scared of humans.

“N — No, no,” spoke up Mr. Boonchuy, once he’d refound his voice. “Anne, there’s gotta be some kinda mistake here! Marcy would never—”

“Never do something like that?” scoffed Anne, knowing this was inevitably coming. “I know, Dad, sweet, clumsy, klutzy Marcy pulled the wool over my eyes too! Truth is: girl’s a total lying psychopath! Who knew!” 

“But Marcy was the one who got me hooked on Vagabondia Chronicles. You two still have slumber parties together! Y — You have got to be joking about this!”

Anne ripped her hands from her face, absolutely indignant, and snapped, “DAD! Do I look like I’m joking?!” She thrusted her finger at the frightened little frog she knew she’d most definitely traumatized anew. “Does that look like I’m joking?!” 

Sprig finally lifted his hat back up to his head and began to dry his tears. Polly and Hop Pop made sure he was alright before they returned to their respective seats. Mr. Boonchuy was taken aback and hung his head in shame. He’d meant nothing by it, but he understood it was a clear poor choice of words.

“So, the person you told me that hurt Sprig, it was Marcy?” Mrs. Boonchuy asked, to which her daughter nodded. She got up off the couch and walked over to Sprig. Reaching out, she allowed Sprig to take her hand. “You poor, brave little thing. You’ve been through so much.”

Sprig nodded before nuzzling himself into her sleeve, and the older woman responded by stroking his hair.

“So what happened next?” Mr. Boonchuy pressed carefully, not wanting to agitate his daughter any further.

“No, dear,” his wife responded swiftly. “That’s enough for now.”

“But Mom, there’s so much more!” Anne protested. “I haven't even got to when I turned blue, or when—”

“I know.” Mrs Boonchuy walked over to Anne and took her hands in her own. “We’ll continue later, I promise. I don’t want to make you any more upset than you are right now.”

When it looked like Anne was going to argue, she placed two fingers over her mouth and hushed her.

“No more, baby. Come over here.”

She brought her over to the couch and sandwiched her comfortably in the middle of her parents. They took her carefully in their arms, making sure to give her the breathing room.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Mr. Boonchuy tentatively brushed his hand through her hair. Wild and bouncy, just as it had been since she was a baby in his arms.

“How could I, Dad?” Anne croaked, “I wanted to tell you guys everything, but it was so… hard. Everything went so wrong. Marcy was hiding everything from us, and I was too blind and stupid! I should’ve been able to see it. If I did, maybe I could’ve…could’ve…”

Anne’s words were choking her in the back of her throat. She collapsed into their embrace and sobbed uncontrollably. She couldn’t care less if it made her feel like a helpless baby.Her body shook with each strangled wail, and her parents just sat there and held her tight until she got it all out of her system.

Mrs. Boonchuy would never be able to describe the guilt she felt that day. This was a thirteen-year-old girl. No child should go through what her Anne had gone through.

And last night, she was so ready to believe the worst of her.

By the time Anne had stopped crying, she was snuggled deep within her purple sweater. Now it was her turn to explore that bountiful tuft of hair. 

“I j-j-just wanted to protect them. When I was all alone in Amphibia, th — they were there for me,” Anne’s muffled voice hiccuped. “ They became my family when I needed one the most. But I failed, and now Andrias and Marcy are going to come after all of us.”

While Mr. and Mrs. Boonchuy held fast to their daughter, enwrapping her in all the tender love and affection any parents could possibly give, the Plantars had gotten up and joined them. As Anne let everything she had felt over the last few weeks come out, she felt a cathartic release, a heavy weight lifting off her frail shoulders. No longer was she burdened by the guilt of hiding her secrets from the people she loved most. In a way, she had set herself free.

“Anne, listen to me,” Mrs. Boonchuy lifted her out from her sweater. “Whatever happens next, whoever comes for us, you will not be alone, do you understand? We will be right there with you, every single step of the way.” She brushed away the tears from her puffy red eyes. “We are a family, all of us, and we will stick together

Anne said not a word. Tears continued to well up, but they were no longer sorrowful. She smiled for the first time since she woke up and threw arms around her mother’s neck. 

Trouble was coming, that was for sure, but in that quiet, fleeting moment, she found peace.I 

Notes:

Heartbreaking, isn't it?

Marcy has fully gone off the deep end, if she hadn't already. As explained, this version of The Core does not fully take over Marcy. Rather, they both work together to achieve their goals. I think of it like the relationship between Eddie Brock and Venom, albeit a bit more cooperative and non-hostile.

And Anne...oh, poor Anne. She's been through so much; and if you think her suffering is over, think again. Next chapter, we are actually going to get a glimpse into the lives of four people that were never introduced in the show: Marcy and Sasha's parents. While we have introduced you to the former, we haven't shown what's been going on with them since their daughters disappeared. And folks, it ain't pretty.

As always, constructive criticism and reviews are always welcome, and I will see you guys in the next chapter!

This is TheAllTimeGreatest signing off!

Chapter 15

Summary:

The parents of two missing girls suffer alone, until a mysterious letter shows up on their doorstep.

Notes:

Welcome back y'all! Apologies for the months-long wait, but your patience will be rewarded today! For this chapter, we actually decided to take a different route and focus on four characters we did not see in the show: Sasha and Marcy's parents; and yes, while you have seen Marcy's parents in previous chapters before, they haven't been seen in the present after their daughter went missing. Specifically, we wanted to do a different take on what might have happened when they each got the letters Anne sent to them at Christmas, explaining what happened to Sasha and Marcy (which, admittedly, kinda went nowhere in the show lol), and how each of them react and deal with what it means.

Also, because Marcy's Journal came out in the midst of writing this chapter (which I highly recommend, by the way), some minor things had to be changed, such as the Waybrights' appearances and their dating situations, which were shown to us in the story. Again, nothing too big.

Enjoy the chapter!

Christmas was one of Marcy’s favorite times of the year. It wasn’t just the presents, decorating the tree, the annual parade, or the time she spent with her friends (although she did enjoy all those things very much). It was probably the only time of year, birthday aside, when she had her parents’ undivided attention. Her mother would finally put down her phone and spend hours with Marcy decorating the living room, which often involved Marcy picking up and moving the tree from corner to corner until her mother was satisfied that she’d matched with the image in her head. Even her father would even get in on the fun and watch a holiday movie with her, providing a dry running commentary the whole way through like the amateur film critic he was. Every family had their traditions and the Wus were no different. 

Sadly, this year was an entirely different story. The entire house was completely void of any and all signs of the festive holiday season. No tree, no holly, no Santa Claus cookie jar, and no gifts to give. In a neighborhood full of decorative homes, the Wu household was a noticeably depressing sight. 

Could anyone blame them?

Inside, an even more depressing sight was Grace Wu, wrapped up in her night robe and slumped over on the corner sofa in a daze. The faint glow of the flatscreen television was the only thing illuminating the dark, gloomy living room. A wine bottle was discarded on the coffee table, propped up next to an empty glass that had been polished off and licked clean hours ago.

She looked like a ghost of her former self. Her once prim bun of raven hair now hung like messily over half her sullen, greasy face. Her eyes were sunken like dark caverns from so many sleepless nights. She resembled so little of the fierce, career-minded tiger of a woman her daughter had looked up to.

These last six months had been the worst of her life. How on earth had they managed to mess everything up so terribly?   

Grace must’ve replayed the events of that terrible day Marcy ran out of their house in tears a million times in her head by this point. Her husband Marcus told her to let her go. She was just upset, he assured her, and that she’d return once she’d calmed down.

If only they’d known then that that was the last time they’d see her, Grace would’ve bolted out that door after Marcy and army carried her back inside.

The emotional trauma from that day and what followed still lingered in their very bones. The growing anxiety as night fell and Marcy still hadn’t come home, only worsening when Grace called her friend’s houses only to be told that not only had they not seen Marcy, but their daughters were nowhere to be seen either. Then came the low level terror when the time had come to file a missing person’s report not just for one but three girls. She prayed this terrible situation would be resolved in hours and they’d all be found safe and sound, but that would be proved to be a fool’s hope.

Hours turned to days, and days turned to weeks, and then to months. Nothing. The police were left stumped. It was like they’d vanished into thin air.

So many tears were shed, so many nights spent awake in worry. The arguments... oh, the arguments. Most of it had blended into one endless, miserable blur, but Grace still cringed at the memory of some of the more regrettable words she and Marcus had yelled at one another.

When the police called off their search, Grace was left numb. No tears, no anger, just a dreadful feeling of emptiness that could be filled by uncorking more and more wine bottles. 

Meanwhile, her husband had holed himself up in a makeshift home office that he converted from a closet. Once his new employers had been informed that his daughter Marcy had gone missing, they allowed him to work from his home in Los Angeles for the indefinite future. 

It was almost as if the two were living in separate houses. Marcus would lock himself in his ‘office’ all day, burying himself in his work and confiding in some of his colleagues in Seattle, while Grace attempted to  bite the bullet and drag herself through the day, meeting with clients and prepping them for tax season. It was brutal. She’d wake up most days with a raging headache threatening to implode her brain. On a particularly bad night, in the middle of a binge, she’d accidentally smashed a bottle and cut up her hand. One trip to the emergency room later, she knew it was for the best she took some much needed time off work. If only it could provide something, anything close to the relief she needed.

That’s what led her to where she was now: awash in a haze of red wine, a stranger in her own home, and an even bigger stranger to her husband, with her baby nowhere to be found, if she would ever be found at all. She wanted nothing more than just to lay there and melt away into her mother’s silk cushions.

Knock-knock-knock!

Grace jerked upright, almost choking on her own spittle. She stumbled to her feet, shuffling haphazardly to the front door through spinning hallways. Adjusting her sweater, she opened the door as far open as the chain would allow to see her mailwoman standing outside. 

“Hello, Mrs Wu,” she tentatively greeted her, handing over a thick stack of letters. “Here’s your mail.”

Grace just stood there, staring at her with a confused expression. She held herself up in the doorway and leaned in, prompting the unlucky young woman to shrink back.

“W-W-What are you even…” She shook her head and growled, “...ddoing here? Isn’t it like, eight a-at night?”

“Uhhhh, it’s three in the afternoon, Mrs Wu.”

Her eyes having finally adjusted, Grace was able to see the afternoon glow through the blurriness brought upon by drunken stupor. She inwardly groaned with embarrassment. Time had really been passing her by lately.

“Thanks...”

Slamming the door shut in the mailwoman’s face, the familiarity of drab darkness thankfully returned to her house and her world.  She trudged into the kitchen, threw her mail down onto the table, and reached into the fridge to pull out a massive bottle of water. All part of the cycle she was putting herself through. Drink, wake up hungover, water for recovery, and do it all over again. 

It was when she returned to the table with her drink that she finally registered her husband’s presence at the counter, pulling a styrofoam container out from the microwave.

They locked eyes and Grace’s frown turned into a scowl.

“What are you doing down here?” she growled as he took a seat at the table. 

“Having a late lunch,” Marcus replied grouchily. “Forgive me if that’s now out of bounds.” He bit into the chewy leftovers of a panini.

She scoffed and slumped most ungracefully in her own chair.

“Dunno. You’re normally spending all your time in that stupid closet, I’ve no idea what your schedule is!”

“It’s an office, Grace.”  

“Aw, go to hell…” She raised the heavy bottle to her lips to take a hearty swig, not caring it was trickling heavily down her top. 

Marcus just kept his eyes on his subpar meal. He didn't have the energy to take the bait and argue back with her when she was like this.

He grumbled under his breath, “Trust me, honey, I’m already there.”

Grace pulled a face at him before rifling through the mail. Bills, credit card statements, the same old junk day in and day out. She was ready to dump them all into the trash when she came upon a plain white envelope that caught her attention.

‘The Wu Family’, scrawled in dark green. 

She stared at it for a moment or two before tearing open the envelope and producing a single note from within.

“Wellwishers? Who’s it from?” Marcus stopped short of taking another bite of his lunch when he glanced over at her. “Um... Grace?”

From where he was sitting, he couldn’t see what was written on the note, but Grace’s body language told a worrying story. Her eyes were darting left and right, her lips trembling. A film of cold sweat was forming over her face. She couldn’t even keep a steady grip on the flimsy piece of paper in her grasp.

Marcus cautiously got up from his seat and approached her end of the table. Hesitating for a moment, he put his hand on her shoulder.

“Honey...?” 

“DONTTOUCHME!!”

Grace bolted out the kitchen in a blur of pink. It all happened so fast, Marcus only registered the crash of his wife’s chair clattering against the tiles and the flick of her raven hair turning a corner and up the stairs.

“Grace— GRACE!” 

Regathering his senses, he followed her upstairs to their master bedroom, only to discover she’d already locked the door behind her.

“Grace, what’s wrong?!” He rammed his shoulder repeatedly against the door to no avail. “What was in that letter?! Talk to me!”

“GO. AWAY!”  

That was enough to make him stop. She was crying. That was plain to hear in her voice.

Marcus propped his palms up against the door, lest his legs gave in and he broke down too. More than half a year’s worth of guilt and self-loathing that had been festering within his core now came up like bile in the back of his throat.

This was all his fault. He’d done this to his family. 

Did she think he was made of stone? That he wasn’t lying wide awake next to her at night, endlessly worrying about where their daughter was too? Whether or not she was even alive?

He spent entire afternoons at his desk ruminating over the last several months. Hours staring at the dull computer screen as he questioned everything from his decisions to his judgment and even his track record as both a husband and father.

If he’d simply told Marcy what was going on in advance, and give her some time to prepare herself.

If he’d only handled their argument better, explaining the situation instead of getting so bullheaded as usual.

If he’d just let Grace go after her…

Their world would be so much different now if he’d just been able to rein in his blasted hubris. They’d still have their wonderful little girl and he’d be able to look his wife in the eye without feeling ashamed. 

“Grace...” Marcus’ voice was so much quieter now. “Please open the door, I... I want to help. I can’t...” He choked up a little. “Please, let me in, honey. I want to help.” 

He could no longer hear her sobs from inside the bedroom. In fact, it had fallen uncomfortably silent. The anguish was now trembling in his throat. Hot tears were squeezing their way into the corners of his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so... God, I’m so sorry.”

The door’s lock clicked . The handle turned and Marcus instinctively stepped back as it opened up.

Marcus looked into Grace’s beautiful eyes, reddened raw with a mother’s grief. Even at her most broken, she was as beautiful to him as ever.

She silently took his hand and led him inside.  

---

Amanda Waybright was a resourceful, committed, and above all, meticulous woman of steel. As a Commander in the Los Angeles Police Department, she couldn’t afford not to be onpoint with every single thing that she did, lest she risk her officers screwing up something critical. She wouldn’t dare let someone else’s incompetency reflect terribly on her.

She relied most on her own tiger-like instincts. Having overseen numerous investigations, she was pretty keen on picking up the most minute, seemingly inconspicuous details. She’d  just come home from a long shift, so she was still sitting down in her uniform, legs crossed and gently bouncing her foot back and forth. A dying cigarette was pinched between her fingers. God knows she needed this one.

In her other hand, she clutched a piece of paper that she’d been analyzing for the best part of an eternity; the same piece of paper that first showed up on her desk at work.

Knock-knock-knock!

Amanda closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm her nerves. She ground the cigarette into the ashtray on her armrest and rose to her feet. 

She couldn’t afford to show too much emotion with this guy. 

Upon opening her apartment door, she was greeted by the sight of a dark-skinned, and equally dark-haired man, dark circles under his weary eyes. He wore a bright purple plaid three piece suit, complete with a yellow tie and bright brown dress shoes. In his line of work, he liked to stand out in order to make a statement; and yet, his demeanor betrayed his choice of clothes.

“Thanks for coming, Rick,” Amanda greeted the man, who merely nodded and stepped inside. He took a seat as she brought him a Nudweiser; his beer of choice. 

“You always have it in your fridge?” Rick opened the bottle and took a chaste sip.

“Only when I know you’re coming over,” she droned, “Makes things easier.”

Rick placed the bottle down and dug into his coat pocket, “This what you were looking for?”

He casually tossed a folded letter across the table, which Amanda scooped up and opened, pouring over its contents without missing a beat.

“When did you get this?” 

“Same time as you,” he shrugged, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair, “Last week, almost right after Christmas.”

Amanda laid both letters out on the table side-by-side, her eyes darting to and ‘fro. As a former detective, now a Commander who oversaw many others, analyzing handwriting was a skill that came almost second-nature at this point. Put the kibosh on any attempts by Sasha to forge her report card.

“What are you seeing there?” Rick circled around her and looked over her shoulder.

“The resemblance between the two is uncanny,” Amanda held her index finger just above the letters, “Right down to the harsh strokes on the S’s, and look at how neat the handwriting is. It’s damn near impeccable, perfectly legible to even the most difficult readers.”

“Alright… So what does that mean?”

“It means whoever wrote these letters wrote them with a pretty steady hand. They were very deliberate and thoughtful as to what they wanted to say.”

“Right, so they took the time to really sit down and think this over” Rick offered, to which Amanda straightened back up and nodded.

“If this were written in a rush, we’d be looking at something a lot sloppier,,” she explained, “Y’know, spelling mistakes, crossed out words, bad grammar, but there’s none of that here. And that’s not even the most worrying part.”

Rick necked the rest of his beer, remarking, “I had a feeling.”

“It’s the word choice that disturbs me, Rick,” Amanda perched her mouth over her knuckles,  “The writer’s tone is comforting to an almost, for lack of a better word, uncomfortable degree. They want to reassure us that everything will be alright. I swear, it’s almost as if they are taunting us.”

Rick just shook his head and trudged into the kitchen, opening the fridge to grab another beer, “Good call buying a six-pack.” He cracked another bottle open and started slugging.

“I figured you’d need it considering.”

“Amanda…” Rick shook his head and coughed into his arm, “This is... nuts. We hear nothing for months, and then, all of a sudden, these letters just fall on her laps?”

“I understand, but we have to remain focused on what’s important.”

“No, I mean, how in the Hell can you be so calm about all this?”

Amanda’s face scrunched up, cracks showing in her stoic demeanor as she actually looked offended by his line of questioning. Regardless, she took a long, measured breath..

“I’m dealing with this in my own way, Rick,” she retorted curtly. 

“Yeah, by repressing everything to an unhealthy degree,” Rick scoffed, leaning against the fridge. “Now, oh where, have I seen that before?” 

“Don’t...!” Her palm banged against the desk in an almost kneejerk response, which she managed to rein back in time. She seethed at him, “Don’t even start that with me. I’ve been on this since day one. Pray tell, where have you been?” 

Now that one got right under Rick’s skin. He slammed the bottle down on the counter. Not hard enough to shatter it, but loud enough to make his point. 

“Working! Living my life!” he growled. “Felicia and the girls need me too, unless you forget. Cars don’t exactly move themselves!”

“Good for you. Meanwhile, in between helping keep the city safe, I’ve had my nose to the grindstone for the last five months, trying to find her!” 

“Believe me, I noticed! The empty seat next to me in the department-provided therapy session, which you proposed, speaks volumes. This is what I’m talking about, Amanda, it’s like you can’t just turn off being a cop and turn on being a mo--”

“Don’t. You. Dare!” Amanda punctuated furiously, now going nose to nose with him. Gloves were off now. “Question who I am as a mother! I love that girl more than anything in the world. Maybe I can’t always ‘turn it off’, but I rather I didn’t if that means I can find my daughter and bring her home!” 

“I just wish you wouldn’t leave me out of this!” Rick stepped forward resolutely, holding his ground, “She’s my daughter too, damn it!”

The yelling that filled the quiet apartment lingered like a bad odor. Faces turned red with anger as Amanda backed up slightly. She steadily walked back to the table and just sat down, her back to Rick, head in her hand as exhaled a soul-jittering sigh that spoke of months of anxiety.

Rick just picked his beer up off the counter and was about to take a sip, but he stopped himself once he saw his ex-wife. Her back rose and fell irregularly as her heavy breathing echoed off the hollow walls. 

“Just like old times, huh?” she remarked bitterly. 

Amanda’s words came as a surprise to Rick. It was something he expected himself to say, and now he found himself deeply regretting his behavior just now. 

‘Nice, Waybright. Like every Thanksgiving all over again.’

There was no need for him to instigate that. Whatever issues they had between themselves, and there were a lot, this was neither the time nor the place. They’d spent too many years arguing, bringing out the worst in each other, getting in each other’s bones. It accomplished little beyond an unhappy home and their daughter receiving the worst impression of what a healthy relationship was like.

They knew they probably had a lot to answer for as to why Sasha was missing. Not just her, not just himself. Both.

Amanda felt a nudge on her shoulder, turning her head to see Rick offering her a bottle of Nudweiser. Defeated, she took it and simply placed it on the table as he took his seat across from her. 

“You know I’m not that big a drinker,” she conceded, pushing the beer away, “Clouds the mind.. Can’t really afford that when I’m on the job.”

“Last time I checked,” Rick started, “You weren’t on the job. Plus, if there’s any time where a drink is called for, it’s now.”

Amanda watched as he continued to chug, and decided to throw caution to the wind. Opening the bottle, she took her own swig, and almost immediately, her face contorted with disgust as she shut her eyes and puckered her lips. Rick bit his tongue before he laughed.

“I don’t know how you can drink this stuff.”

“You don’t exactly drink it for the taste,” Rick half-smiled.

Despite its rather rancorous taste, Amanda continued to take chaste sips. No sense of it going to waste, and she needed to take the edge off.  

“When I first got mine, I had a feeling about who might have sent it. It was just a hunch, but it wasn’t until you showed me that tape from the dealership that I might have been on to something. You still got that, by the way?”

“It’s in a filing cabinet at the dealership.” Rick crossed his legs.

“Good, because we’re going to need it,” Amanda said, before pulling out a festive looking card, “At first, I thought I was just seeing things but then I was looking through Sasha’s room and noticed this Christmas card from last year.”

Amanda opened it up and showed it to Rick, who combed it over. It was a cute looking card, with a bunch of bows and wreaths on it, along with a nice message for the holiday. At the bottom of the card, there was a signed message:

 

To Sasha, the most rocking and awesome best friend there is! Have the best Christmas ever!

 

- Anne

 

“Notice anything familiar?”

Rick grabbed his letter and held it up side by side with the Christmas card, and he saw it right away. The handwriting on both was exactly the same, right down to the carefully crafted words.

“So…” he gulped, “I really wasn’t imagining things at the dealership the other day.”

“Nope,” Amanda said, getting up to throw her glass bottle away, “I don’t know exactly when or how, but I think Anne’s back in the city. She’s probably been lying low to not tip off the wrong people. But then her parent's car landed in your shop.”

“Damn thing looked like it'd been through a literal ringer.” He grumbled, shaking his head. “So, what’s our next move?”

“I can’t say much, but I’m working with the FBI’s field office on this one,” she explained. “The guy I’m working on this with, a real weird one, he’s already made contact with them, and we’re working on a plan to close in. It’s just a matter of when…”

Rick folded his hands, trying to soak in all of the damning revelations Amanda threw at him. Anger soon overtook shock as he ruminated about that evening the Boonchuys showed up at his place of work.  How he asked them about Anne, and the way they shifted the conversation from her should have been a dead giveaway that something was amiss.

“I can’t believe it…” Rick slammed his fist on the table. “So they knew. They knew Anne was back, where Sasha and Marcy are, and they lied to my face!”

“They lied to both of us, Rick,” Amanda stated bluntly. “And we are getting answers out of them. One way or another.”

Before she could say anything else, the landline hooked into the wall rang, catching Amanda off guard. Not many people she knew had the number to her home phone, so it must have been something important. She picked up and cautiously brought it to her ear.

“Hello?”

Rick could only watch as her expression shifted to one of shock. He rose from his seat and walked over to her, “Who is it?”

Amanda held up her index to him and he was silent. ‘Fingers up, shut up’ as she would repeatedly tell their daughter.

Then she put a hand over the phone, “... it’s Marcus Wu.”

Notes:

And that's where we're gonna leave things! I know, cliffhangers might be a bit cliche, but we felt this was the best part to stop at before fit hits the shan (bonus points for anyone who gets that) in the next chapter, which will feature the long-awaited confrontation between the Waybrights, the Wus, and the Boonchuys; folks, it ain't gonna be pretty. It will coincide with the "Escape to Amphibia" episode, but with a different spin MagicMan and I have put on it.

Again, reviews and constructive criticisms are always welcome, as well as edits on our TVTropes page (shameless plug XD), and I'll see you in the next chapter!

This is TheAllTimeGreatest signing off!

Chapter 16

Chapter by TheAllTimeGreatest

Summary:

A routine trip to the store turns into a wild chase. Old wounds are reopened as the Boonchuys are confronted with the consequences of their choices.

Notes:

Wow! It has been a minute, hasn't it? Apologies for such a long delay. My work life has been quite hectic the last few months, what with trying (and failing) to find a new job, alongside my co-authors' busy schedules. I admittedly didn't make this easy on MagicMan or Asia, seeing as how this chapter clocked in at over 30 pages. I have about half of the next chapter done already.

The last time we saw each other, Amanda and Rick were working with Mr. X and the FBI to apprehend the Plantars and to bring the Boonchuys into custody, hoping to question them on the whereabouts of Sasha and Marcy. At the same time, Anne has been preparing to return to Amphibia, with the inter dimensional portal nearing completion. This chapter revolves around the Boonchuys and Plantars' trip to Spendco, which is very different from the one we saw in the show.

Prepare yourselves, my dear readers. This is going to be heavy.

Ever since that night she came clean to her parents, Anne found everything in her life quickly hit a turning point. She started uncovering more clues in her quest to return to Amphibia, kicking off when Dr. Jan discovered a hidden message on the museum vase that told Anne, as translated from Marcy’s notes, to: “seek the Mother of Olms; she will guide you to your destiny."

“That doing anything for anyone?”

“Not specially.”

“No siree.”

“Pfft!”

Nevertheless, it was a clue, and a clue meant progress. Speaking of which, Anne had also managed to meet a young scientist named Terri, who promised to help her and the Plantars get back to Amphibia by trying to construct a portal of their own.

Of course, this all happened after Terri’s boss, Dr. Frakes, tried to dissect the Plantars alive.

“Why does every other person we meet always wanna kill us?!” lamented Hop Pop after that ordeal.

Before they knew it, Christmas was upon them, where the Plantar and Boonchuy families grew closer than ever before.  That is, after King Andrias sicced a massive animatronic Santa on their float during the Los Angeles Christmas Parade.

The more things changed, the more they stayed the same, as the old saying went.

As the cooler winter months began to recede, Terri had started construction of a prototype interdimensional portal that could, theoretically, return the Plantars back to Amphibia. Many trial runs ended in failure, sometimes tripping the garage’s breaker. Nevertheless, the young scientist pushed on, with help from the Boonchuys and the Plantars. After analyzing the Calamity Box further, she discovered just how she could pinpoint the coordinates to Amphibia.

“The musical notes function as coordinates,” Terri explained, pulling them up on a screen in front of her. “ There are countless worlds in the multiverse. Infinite possibilities and those ancient Newts discovered a way to pinpoint worlds with music.”

After Anne and the Plantars provided Terri with the exact musical notes the box had played as they were transported between worlds, she was able to materialize a small portal that showed a scene where a massive red mantis was about to feast on a rat.

“Yep, that’s home all right!” Hop Pop confirmed with delight.

Luckily, Terri was able to shut the portal down before the mantis could devour Sprig as its next course. Near death experience aside, the group could not be more ecstatic that the portal actually worked.

“I don't believe it,” Anne beamed. “We're so close to getting back to Amphibia. Next stop, defeat Andrias  and save my friends!”

That last word, plural , surprised Anne, even more so because she’s the one who said it. She stuttered a bit before she regained her composure.

Huh, that was weird, she thought, guess it’s almost second nature…

“You good, honey?”

Anne felt the comforting hand of Dr. Jan land on her shoulder. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” -- she brushed her hair back – “just got a lot on my mind.”

“Are you still…” Dr. Jan paused, trying to find the right words, “you know…seeing things?”

Anne shifted uncomfortably. It had been months since Anne had seen that haunting apparition of her former friend, whose name Dr. Jan knew better than to say, for fear of triggering a relapse. She knew that she would never be fully past it all, and yet she thought she was doing better.

“No, and right now, I’m not focused on her,” Anne simply said, putting up a brave front. “All that I’m thinking about is ending this once and for all!”

Dr. Jan smiled, “You know, Anne, you really are one impressive kid.” She gave her shoulder a pat. “Traveling to another world, leaving your parents behind again, not knowing when you'll see them next. That takes a lot of guts, you know...”

Listening to her praises never was her strongest suit, so Anne tuned out pretty quickly, her gaze shifting across the room until it landed on her parents, who were chatting with the Plantars. Her smile faltered, and it hit her. Dr. Jan was right: she was going to have to, this time willingly, leave her parents behind all over again. The mental images of her mother drowning her sorrows in her “workout room” and baking birthday cake after birthday cake, all while her poor father futilely tried to comfort her, had already risen to the front of her mind before she could repress them. The last thing she wanted was to make them go through that all over again. But at this point in their journey, did she really have a chance whether or not to go back?

“You know, I... I really hadn’t thought about that ‘til now.”

Terri had assembled everyone in front of her, reading out a list of more supplies they were going to need if they were ever going to power up the portal to the level that they needed for Anne and the Plantars to phase through. 

Only Mrs. Boonchuy questioned the necessity of eight gallons of yogurt covered pretzels.

And there was only one place in the city where they could get all these supplies

“SPENDCO!”

Hop Pop, Sprig, and Polly marveled at the colossal warehouse of a superstore that seemed to endlessly extend in all directions. From their perspective, it may as well have been the size of Wartwood, if not bigger. The Boonchuys explained that they had everything, and they meant everything, in this store, including whatever they needed to get for the portal.

“Come on, Frobo!” Polly grabbed her robot friend’s head. “SHOPPING SPREE!”

“Which way to the avocados?”

“Toys! Toys! Where are the toys?!”

Hop Pop and Sprig followed Polly’s lead, disappearing into the store in orangey-pink blurs, once Mrs. Boonchuy pointed them in the right direction.  

Anne just shook her head and giggled as she tagged along with her parents to fetch the items on their list. She was gonna miss these silly moments when this was all over.

Little did any of them know, they were being watched.

“I’ve got eyes on them, permission to engage?” 

“Negative. We need to make sure they’re all in one place, then we move in. Continue to survey, and don’t let them out of your sight. ”

“Yes, Commander.”

Anne’s eyes were glued to her phone, not noticing a plastic red lightsaber aimed at her face until it nearly brushed the tip of her nose. She let out a shrill yelp and looked up to see her father in a black mask with menacing red eyes, gripping a blue lightsaber in his hand.

“We meet again, Anne Boonchuy,” warbled Mr. Boonchuy’s voice through the mask’s scrambler. “The only way to save your father is to defeat me.”

He tossed his daughter the red lightsaber, who she merely sighed in a bored exasperated manner. “Dad, I’m too old for this.”

Mr. Boonchuy lifted up his mask, looking dejected. “Aw, really?”

“Nope!”

Anne had closed the distance between herself and her father in a split second as he barely managed to block her stronger-than-anticipated strike, knocking his mask loose so that it only covered half of his face. Mr. Boonchuy only narrowly avoided Anne’s series of thrusts and strikes, which knocked him off balance. Anne crouched down, a satisfying smirk on her face before she jumped up on a stack of bulk products, then leapt to a low shelf, before coming down on her dad, tripping him up as he tumbled to the floor, his blue lightsaber falling out of his grasp.

“Hey!” he pleaded. “Go easy on your old man!”

Anne was a bit taken aback, not realizing her own strength. Maybe it was all too easy to forget that, unlike most kids her age, she’d spent a good portion of the last five months learning how to sword fight. 

“Whoa, sorry!” Anne apologized, but before she knew it, Mrs. Boonchuy, garbed in a dark hooded robe, snuck up behind her and ‘stabbed’ her, running a larger, yellow-tinted sword in between her bicep and armpit.

“Gotcha!” She grinned ‘maliciously’. “I was your mother the whole time!”

All it took was one brief glance down at the yellow, plastic sword protruding from behind her for all of it to violently come back. Her heart began to race and her arms trembled, frozen in a semi-paralyzed state. Her surroundings melted away as the high shelves of the store were replaced with the dark brick walls of Andrias’ throne room, and the fluorescent lights above turned into the orange hue of the Amphibian sunset cascading through the large, open windows. 

Shards of glass slowly gathered in front of her, the only presence in the otherwise empty throne room. They began to piece together, forming a clean, clear mirror. But it wasn’t Anne’s own reflection she saw. No. Instead, she saw the one person who, despite her best efforts, had been haunting at every turn since she arrived back on Earth. It wasn’t the pristine, perfect image she was used to of her green skirt and light gray hoodie. Instead, her Newtopian Ranger armor was damaged all over, with a massive hole in the breastplate. Her right arm was blackened, bits and splinters from the remains of her crossbow hanging from her wrist. Blood dripped down her fingers and onto the cobblestone floor, and more dripped down from her nose and mouth, her tongue protruding from her lips to lap up the excesses on her chin, from which two teeth that were resting on the tip fell to the floor at her feet. The remnant of her destroyed cape lazily dangled from her shoulders as she bore an unhinged, toothy cheshire smile. 

Most gruesome of all, a massive light sword was protruding from her chest, and the way she was acting, it was almost as if she was enjoying the fact that she was in so much pain. A red hot pain erupted from Anne’s chest, looking down to see that instead of the plastic sword her mother ‘impaled’ her with, there was the same light sword rammed right through her chest. She sputtered and gasped, grasping to pull it out, to no avail. Blood splattered from her own mouth as she looked back up at the mirror, its image opening its mouth to speak.

“I…” Marcy rasped, “...hate you.”

And with one final, wrangled gasp for air, Anne screamed.

“ANNE!”

The voice that brought her back to the real world was undoubtedly feminine. Anne had fallen to the floor on all fours and was struggling to regain her breath. She clawed at her chest, and discovered to her relief that the light sword was no longer there, along with the absence of any wound. She slapped the corner of her mouth and felt nothing but her own saliva, and no blood to be found anywhere. She was sweating and gasping for air, looking up to see her mother and father kneeling beside her. They no longer had their costumes on, nor did they have any of their lightsabers with them. Tears brimmed in her eyes as her parents’ worried faces bore down on her, towering over her like giants. 

“Honey, are you okay?!” Mrs. Boonchuy reached out to cup her face.

“GETAWAYFROMME!” 

Anne’s entire being convulsed at being touched. She shoved her mother’s hands away, accidentally jamming them between her shoulder and jaw. Mrs Boonchuy quickly withdrew herself, grasping her injured fingers. Mr. Boonchuy kept his distance, tending to his wife as they both gave their daughter a wide berth to let her get up and breathe.

Shock gripped Anne’s heart once she’d sobered up to what she’d done. She kept her back to them, covering her trembling mouth. She was too ashamed to look them in the eye. 

“Anne…” Mr. Boonchuy started, but Anne cut him off.

“I’m sorry!” she choked. “I’m so... I gotta go!” 

Anne ran off down an aisle, ignoring the cries of her parents. She kept her head down and didn’t bother watching where she was going, not even when she ricocheted against a cage full of yogurt. Her lungs cried out for rest, forcing her to lean against the metal scaffolding. The pit of her stomach twisted as she bent over in pain, dry heaving and only holding herself up with her hand.

“Anne?”

The sound of her name once again served as an anchor that brought her back to reality. Anne opened her eyes and saw Sprig, holding a slingshot and a water balloon. Once he saw the state she was in, he immediately dropped what he was holding and ran over to her.

“Anne! Are you alright? What happened? Did someone hurt you? Was it that Maggie again? I’ll feed her her pigtails!”

Everything he babbled came at her at a million miles an hour; she could hardly process all his questions. Anne just stumbled her way over to a French patio set, and collapsed into the iron chair and buried her face in her hands.

“Anne, please,” Sprig ran up to her, removing her hands from her face, “you know you can talk to me.”

“I saw her.”

Sprig shrunk back reflexively. He was hesitant to ask the next question. 

“You mean you…?” 

“Had another episode, yeah,” mototoned Anne. “Aaand I ended up hitting my mom, so yeah, got that to deal with.”

Her whole body felt as if something nasty was slithering beneath her skin. Sprig did his best to try and comfort her by climbing onto her lap and wrapping his small pink arms around her waist. Anne hugged him back.

“It’s never gonna be okay, is it?” She sounded so exhausted. “Whatever happens when we go back there, it’s not gonna magically fix everything. Now I’m gonna leave my parents behind again, as if the first time wasn’t bad enough...” 

She put Sprig down gently and started her way down the nearest aisle. A familiar, moist, hand tugged at her own. She sighed.

“Sprig, it’s okay. I just need to take a walk and clear my head. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

Reluctantly, Sprig relented and let her go. He watched until her huge pompom of hair disappeared as she turned a corner. It wasn’t like he couldn’t relate, quite the opposite in fact. If anything, perhaps now he better understood how helpless she felt when he was going through his issues not too long ago. The best to do, as much as it didn’t feel like it, was to just grant Anne her space. It’s what he was afforded, after all

“Hey kiddo!” He turned around to see Hop Pop pushing a shopping cart filled to the brim with, he guessed, every avocado product known to man.

“You like it?” Hop Pop asked blithely. “Avocado hummus, avocado oil, avocado face masks. There's avocado everything! When I share it all with Amphibia, we'll be set for life!” His excitement tempered when he noticed the despondent look on Sprig’s face. “You alright, boy?”

“Yeah, and where’s Anne?” Polly pulled up the rear, hauling a bag full of Die Difficulty DVDs as she rode atop Frobo, now mounted to an RC car.

“Uh, she’s-- taking a walk.” 

Hop Pop, however, was wise enough to spot one of his grandkids making up a lie on the spot.

“Alright, Sprig, what’s going on?”

The young frog knew by this point it was better to just come clean. While he was doing that, they were all too busy to notice someone was observing them intently.

“Commander, I’ve got eyes on three subjects in Aisle 10.”

“ Describe them. We need confirmation, Detective.” 

“One’s about... I’d say knee height, wearing a green beanie, face mask, and a red jacket. Another one about waist height, black fedora and  trenchcoat and glasses. Third one’s gonna be no more than two feet and wearing a tacky blonde wig.”

“ That’s the three X described. Got eyes on Boonchuy? ”

“Negative. She was last spotted on the other side of the store. I’m going- oh no...”

The detective stopped on a dime when he saw a certain raven-haired, disheveled looking woman briskly walking down an aisle, a murderous intent in her eyes.

“ Detective? Detective, what’s your status?”

“Uh, Commander? We have a problem…”

---

Anne lazily trudged down the frozen foods aisle. Her phone kept pinging with texts from her parents. She just ignored them all; she would answer them, but not right now. Placing her hands behind her head, she buried her chin in her chest and shakily sighed, leaning on one of the doors for support, the cool temperature a much needed relief on her skin. 

Her mom just had to reenact that scene from the movie. There was no way she could’ve known. Anne didn’t get the chance to finish explaining to them what exactly happened to Marcy before Mrs. Boonchuy interrupted. It was for the best, in hindsight.

She was over the worst of it now, feeling... not that much better, but at least not worse. The aisle’s chill helped to keep her grounded, and she did her best to recall Hop Pop’s advice from their heart to heart. In another ten minutes, she’d make her way back to the front of the store and meet up with her family. After she apologized to her mother, a long nap in a dark room wouldn’t be amiss.  

Turning her head, Anne peeked into the fridge and saw something that brought a half-smile to her face. It was her favorite ice cream treat, prepackaged cones of vanilla ice cream topped with fudge and walnuts with a caramel center. She thought that her parents wouldn’t mind if she got them.

She reached in and grabbed a couple boxes. Her dad was a big fan as well. Savoring the breeze comforting her face for a moment, she shut the door.

What she saw stopped her heart and sucked the air out of her lungs. 

An Asian lady towering over her like a limp, living scarecrow. A mop of greasy, frazzled black hair curtained half her face. The side Anne could see was dripped with sweat, making her makeup run slightly down her pale cheeks. The effect was downright terrifying.  Her exposed, reddened eye bore into her with the intensity of Medusa’s stare. It might as well have been the real thing, because Anne’s body was petrified under its withering gaze.

An eternity felt compressed into only five seconds before the woman spoke.

Venom oozed from her lips. “Hello Anne.” 

Anne slowly backed up, her mouth hanging slightly agape as the woman closed the distance between them.

“Mrs…”

The woman tilted her head almost playfully.

“Mrs. Wu?”

“It’s been too long, dear.”

Anne’s brain was screaming at her legs to move, to run all the way back to her house on foot, but they refused to budge. She daren’t break eye contact with her.

Marcy truly was the spitting image of her mother. 

“I… I–”

“I just wanna talk to you.” Grace rummaged through the pocket of her green jacket and produced a crumpled piece of paper. “I got your letter.”

Anne’s pupils practically vanished into her irises when she saw it. She remembered that long Christmas Eve night alone at the dining room table, surrounded by dozens of balled up drafts. She knew in her gut it was a terrible idea right up to when she shoved all three letters in the mailbox, but her guilt refused to let her sleep that night until she had.

“I especially loved this little part,” Grace said before holding the paper at eye level. “‘I can’t imagine spending the holidays without your family. I know how hard it is to be apart and not know if you’ll ever see each other again.’.” The paper scrunched up in her white-knuckled hands. Her grimace transformed into a blood-chilling scowl threatening to rip apart the skin of her face. “Do you have the slightest... clue what my family has been through?”

Even if she could reach down her dried throat and retrieve her voice, what was Anne possibly going to say to her?

“‘Trapped in another world’, huh? That’s where you girls have been for half a year? Really? ” 

Grace took a step forward, causing Anne to shrink back in fear.

“Another world...” Any lingering restraint fell to the wayside and Grace tore the crumbled note to shreds in front of Anne, the tattered remains falling to the floor.

“ Do you take me for an idiot?! Is this some kind of sick game to you?! ”

Fists balled, Grace stomped on the box of ice cream cones, crushing them to bits and staining the floor, along with her shoes, with the sticky desert, although she obviously couldn’t care less about her ruined footwear.

This prompted Anne to finally rediscover her voice. “Mrs. Wu, p-please, listen. I know how you’re–” 

“Where’s my daughter, Anne?”

“I--” She didn’t get the chance to finish when the woman violently grabbed her by the shoulders and screamed in her face.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY BABY, YOU LITTLE SCUMBAG?!?!”

“Grace!”

Grace flinched at her husband’s voice, but she kept her sight and her grip squarely on Anne. The sight of a burly police officer standing beside him out of the corner of her eye didn’t sway her either. If she squeezed Anne’s shoulder any tighter, her nails would draw blood.

“What on Earth are you doing?!” demanded Marcus. “Let Anne go now! This wasn’t part of Amanda’s plan!”

“I don’t care. You hear me? I DON’T CARE!!” Grace screamed at him. “I’ve done my waiting! I’m done being a bystander! Not a second longer!”

Before she could make her move, she felt a heavy hand belonging to the cop clamp down on her shoulder.

“That’s enough, Mrs. Wu.”

“Get your damn hands off of me!”

Grace swung her left arm, trapping the detective’s arm in the crook of her inner elbow, and used her right forearm to shove the poor sap against the glass refrigerator door. This afforded Anne the window she needed to wriggle free from Grace’s claws and sprint down the aisle.

“Anne– ANNE! Don’t you run from me! DON’T YOU RUN FROM ME!!!”

---

“ Commander, do you copy?!”

Amanda Waybright, parked around the corner from Spendco in an unmarked, black Dodge Charger police cruiser, reached for her radio, “10-4, what’s your status, Detective?”

“ Grace is in the store and she’s chasing after Anne.”

Her eyes went wide, “What?! How did she get in the store?!”

“We don’t know; Rick was supposed to be watching her!”’

“Son of a--!” Amanda turned her police lights on and sped into the Spendco parking lot, spotting a white SUV parked near the entrance, and her ex-husband lying on the ground against the driver’s side door. She slammed the brakes and ran to the vehicle.

“Rick! What happened to Grace?!” Amanda panicked, noticing his jacket had been ruffled up and his pants were ripped at the knee. A cut below his eyes was weeping blood.

Rick stumbled to his feet. “Crazy broad sucker punched me and ran inside!” 

“DAMNIT!” Amanda cursed, “I knew I should have just watched her myself!”

“We need to stop her, she’s gone absolutely nutso!”

“Attention all units on standby!” Amanda radioed, grabbing her shoulder microphone. “Things have gone South, move in! I repeat, move in!”

No sooner than she shouted the order, four unmarked squad cars sped into the parking lot, skidding to a stop. As more detectives poured out of their vehicles, Amanda’s phone rang, and she groaned when she saw who was calling.

“What?!” 

“ Amanda, what exactly am I watching?” came a high pitched male voice on the other line.

“Mrs. Wu’s gone AWOL! We need to stop her before she hurts the girl!”

“I warned you we should’ve kept them out of this! This is amateur hour, Waybright!”

“Listen, X,” growled Amanda, “we can salvage this operation. I’ve got detectives going in as we speak. I’ll follow in behind them. The most important thing is safely securing the Boonchuys and the frogs and bringing them in for questioning.”

The voice on the other end of the line heaved a world-weary sigh. “ We can’t afford to screw this up any further, or we might lose them for good. Jenners! Make sure that backup’s on standby for when Waybright has them all in her custody!”

The line went dead while Amanda was already helping Rick to his feet, “Come on, we need to make sure Grace doesn’t try to kill the kid...

---

“And that should be everything on the list!” Mr. Boonchuy declared, looking over their shopping cart that was piled high, “Honestly, Terri didn’t need that many yogurt covered pretzels.”

“Everyone’s got their cravings--” Mrs. Boonchuy looked down at her ringing phone and saw her daughter’s name on the screen. She answered and pressed it against her head before the ringtone could finish its first cycle.

“Anne, hon--”

“ MOM, HELP! Marcy’s parents are chasing me, and her mom has gone crazy! ”

Mrs. Boonchuy’sface was instantly awash with panic, looking to her husband to find the exact same expression on his face. He moved in to hear the call better. 

“Where are you?” 

“ The home improvement section!” Anne yelled, her breathing becoming heavier and heavier.

“Hold on, Anne, we’re on our way!”

“Wait! There’s also police, and I think they’re with the Wus!”

The Boonchuys’ expressions went from afraid to confused. They understood the FBI was looking for their froggy tenants, but the LAPD? Why would they be here, unless...

The lights went off in Mrs. Boonchuy’s head. “Oh no...”

“BOONCHUYS!”

The bark but effeminate bark of Police Commander Amanda Waybright was unmistakable to the Boonchuys, and ferocious enough to make their heads instinctively duck past their shoulder blades like a pair of turtles. They followed the voice over their shoulders to see Amanda and Rick skidding to a stop behind them. 

“Hiiii,” Mrs. Boonchuy’s toothy grin failed to mask the pant-wetting terror in her eyes. “Amanda! Long time... no see.”

Mr. Boonchuy looked more distracted by Rick’s wrecked attire. “Yeesh, Rick, what happened to you? You look like you got hit by a train--”

“Oh are we?!” yelled Rick suddenly, earning a confused look from everyone. “S-Sorry, I, uh... I was expecting you to say something else.”

Amanda could have palmed her whole face off. “For the love of God, Rick-- Where is Anne, Oum?!”

Pure instinct nearly compelled her to answer. She silenced herself in time, but her eyes betrayed her as they twitched towards her phone. Amanda’s eagle eyes picked this up immediately. 

“ Mom? You still there? Hello?!” 

Mrs. Boonchuy gasped when Amanda violently grabbed her wrist in an iron grip.

“ANNE! Where are you?!”

“ Mrs. Waybright? ” Anne’s voice returned curiously, before it turned hostile, “ Like heck if I’m telling you! You’re sicking your cops on me like I’m some kinda criminal! And what? You have the Wus with you too?!”

That tore it. She was going to wring Grace’s neck like a chicken the next time she saw her.

“Oum, Bee, listen to me.” Amanda recomposed herself and started to reason. “We need you two and Anne to come downtown with us. We need you to answer a few que--”

“Like HELL we are!” 

A cart full of groceries suddenly slammed into both her and Rick, showering them in an explosion of yogurt pretzels. By the time they’d gathered the wits, the two older Boonchuys had both fled the scene.

“Damnit!” Amanda cursed, before turning back on her radio. “Attention all units, be on the lookout for Oum and Bee Boonchuy!” She looked down at her husband, “C’mon, Rick, we gotta find-- oh, Rick!”

Rick took the half-eaten pretzel out of his mouth. “What? You know how hard these are to find everywhere else?”

---

Anne pressed herself up against the marble base of a model bathroom sink, quieter than a monk who’d taken the vow of silence. She poked her head out ever so slightly and spotted her pursuer skulking around the backyard grills.

“Where are you...?” growled Grace. “Come out here, you little bitch! ” 

Anne didn’t dare make a move. With all the horrendous monsters and villains she’s gone up against, somehow it was the unbridled fury of a grieving mother that made them all look miniscule, and struck her with a fear unlike all of them.

“I hope you’re terrified, Anne, you know that?” Grace peeked behind a barbecue smoker. “Because now you feel a fraction of what I’ve felt all these months. Watching your marriage and career fall to pieces. Jumping every time the phone rang because you dread they’re gonna tell you your baby’s dead! Drinking yourself to sleep every damn night!”

Tears welled up in Anne’s eyes. She felt her heart break as she listened to Grace pour her heart out. She thought about the pain her own mother had gone through in her absence.The only difference was that her mother got her child back; Grace hadn’t.

How was she even going to begin explaining to her the truth?

“I always knew Marcy was too good for a worthless piece of Thai trash like you! You better hope the police find you before I do--” 

“ANNE!”

Anne flapped her hands over her mouth to stop herself from cursing aloud. 

‘Oh no. Guys, no, no, no!’ 

“I’m sorry, I know you said you needed time, but we were worried about you!” Sprig prattled on far too loud as he clasped his tiny hands on her shoulders. Hop Pop and Polly pulled up the rear.

“Aww, Anne, I thought we agreed we’d talk about stuff like this!”

“You oughta try Frobo, Anne, he’s a really good listener.”

None of them picked up on the fact that Anne was frantically waving her arms in a panic, desperately trying to get them to quiet down before--

“THERE YOU ARE!”

The sink they were hiding behind suddenly flipped over, breaking into pieces and slamming into another sink on display. Grace cast a shadow over the four of them, her fingers twitching to be wrapped around Anne’s neck. 

All four were paralyzed with fright, but none worse off than Sprig the second he looked into this creature’s eyes and saw her.

Blood rushed to his head, almost like it did when she hung him upside down as he stared at the seemingly bottomless chasm below, praying that she would step back from the dangerous cliff she found herself standing at the edge of. A cold chill went down Sprig’s spine as he stood, frozen as a block of ice.

Grace moved in on them, but she was suddenly hit in the face with two water balloons. Stumbling around blind, Grace slipped on the water at her feet before crashing to the floor, hitting her back against a model granite kitchen countertop. 

Anne and the Plantars barely processed what happened when Mr. and Mrs. Boonchuy came running after them and scooped them up into their arms, hightailing away from the home improvement section. They hid around the corner and placed the four down.

“Mom! Dad!” cried Anne, embracing them both. “How did you--”

“Look, no time to explain!” Mrs. Boonchuy cut her off and turned to the Plantars. “Alright, here’s the situation: we have multiple police officers lurking around every corner.”

The six of them peeked back around the corner to see Grace being helped to her feet by Marcus, who was also with two more police officers. The angered woman shoved her husband away before yelling at them, too far away for the group to make out any words, but they could tell it was not pleasant.

“I never liked her,” Mrs. Boonchuy deadpanned.

“There’s no way we can get out of here without taking care of everyone else first,” Anne said.

“Then that’s just what we’ll do!” Mr. Boonchuy punched his fist into his open palm. “Your mother and I will try and hold off the Wus. Maybe we can reason with them.”

“Hop Pop,” Anne said, turning to the Plantars, “can you, Sprig, and Polly hold off Sasha’s mom and her cops?”

Hop Pop looked at his grandchildren for their approval; Polly couldn’t be more excited, smirking and putting her stubs up as if preparing for a fight, while Sprig seemed a little more apprehensive.

“What’s up, boy?”

“Just…” Sprig started, rubbing his arm, “just as long as you keep her away from me.”

The young frog gestured to the still steaming mad mother ranting and raving at her husband. Anne assessed Sprig’s apprehensiveness, the raw trauma of that day in the castle rearing its ugly head once more at the mere sight of Grace. She nodded, and her parents went off to execute their part of the plan, while the Plantars did the same, leaving Anne all by herself.

“Now I just have to make it out of here in one piece…”

---

Three detectives marched down a towering aisle selling Turkish washers and dryers. Keeping their eyes peeled, they saw a blur of bushy brown hair dash across the end of the aisles. The lead man immediately clutched his radio, “I’ve got eyes on Boonchuy heading west, we’re in pursuit.”

They took off down the aisle and into the open where, from atop the high shelves, Sprig loaded a large slingshot with water balloons, sending them flying and hitting all three detectives in the face. As they attempted to clear their eyes, RC Frobo raced out from behind them, zooming past and dropping marbles from a hidden compartment in the undercarriage. The detectives struggled to maintain their balance, falling to the floor in an unceremonious heap.

“ Detective, come in! What’s your status?” Amanda sounded out over the radio.

From around the bend, Polly stepped out holding a remote control in her hand. Her brother and Anne both flashing her a thumbs up in approval.

“Damn it.” Amanda cursed from a different section of the store, her husband and two more detectives with her. Turning to one of them – a woman with short, black hair – she directed them to keep their eyes open as they followed her. From above, however, Hop Pop was positioned behind a bulk crate of paper towels. Using his legs, he pushed them over the edge of the shelf as they tumbled down and landed on his target, scattering them like bowling pins.

“What the heck was that?!” Rick exclaimed before an orange shape wearing glasses, a jacket, and a fedora jumped down with a mighty yell, landing on the back of the short-haired woman, two halves of an avocado in his hands, slamming them into her eyes.

“Eat avocado, coppers!”  yelled Hop Pop, as he pushed the woman into the support beams of the shelf, knocking her out and sending her crashing to the floor. 

“What is that thing?!” 

“One of our targets.” Amanda replied stoically, reaching into her back pocket.

Meanwhile, the other detective, a tall African-American woman, lunged at Hop Pop and grabbed him by the arms, but the old frog slingshotted himself underneath her, slipping between her legs. She tried to turn around, but found herself face down on the floor. Glancing at her feet, she noticed a rope pulled taut around her ankles, tying them together.

“You little--” the woman grumbled and struggled to her feet as Hop Pop reached back and pulled out a water gun.

“HOW ‘BOUT A SIDE A NACHO CHEESE?!” Hop Pop unleashed his barrage and buried the detective beneath a heap of yellowish-orange goo. By the time his gun was out of ammo, there was little of her left to be recovered. A hand set itself on Hop Pop’s shoulder and he looked up nervously to see Amanda standing over him, a pair of handcuffs in hand.

“Errr, Officer?”  

Moments later, Hop Pop was apprehended, hands behind his back, with Amanda helping the two other detectives recuperate. “Take this one to the squad van. Don’t let him out of your sight.”

Rick appeared from behind her, looking mighty impressed.

“Wow. You still got it.”

“Damn right I do,” Amanda said. “Now, we just gotta pick off the other two.”

As he was being led away, Hop Pop stropped, wriggling around in his restraints and gasping. He held back his head and let out a loud yell, “POLLY, SPRIG! THEY GOT ME! THEY’RE COMING AFTER YA!”

Within earshot of the old frog, Sprig and Polly emerged from behind a shelf to see him being carried away, quite literally kicking and screaming. 

“YOU LET OUR HOP POP GO!” yelled Sprig, drawing the eyes of all the humans below.  

“There you are!” Amanda pointed up at them, her other hand hovering over her taser. “You two! Get down here now before we come up there and get you!”

“Oh, we’re coming down alright, and we’re gonna whoop your ugly human butts!” Polly fired back as she climbed Sprig’s shoulders.

Sprig leapt down and struck his best superhero pose. Masking the searing pain that shot up from his knee, he whipped out his trusted slingshot.  Needless to say, the humans advancing upon them weren’t exactly impressed.

“D’aww, and what’re you gonna do with that, lil guy?” asked Amanda patronizingly. 

“You think we’re scared of you and your stupid cops?” Sprig took a step back. “This is a walk in the swamp for us back home!”

“We eat monsters like you for breakfast!” Polly powered up her remote control, Frobo speeding up to her side, “We ain’t going down without a fight, even if we gotta take you with us!”

With one last battle cry, Sprig and Polly charged forward!

---

“I don’t think we took them with us…”

Polly’s pained summary of the whole situation just elicited a groan from her older brother. The two of them were battered and bruised. Sprig was being dragged by the hood of his jacket, an extra set of handcuffs around his wrists. Rick carried Polly under his arm like a basketball, the rope used by Frobo tied taut around her body. In Rick’s other hand was Frobo’s head, the RC car destroyed in their fight. The two handed the frogs over to two other detectives.

“Put these two with their grandfather,” Amanda ordered, the officers hauling the children away.

“What’s next?” Rick asked.

“Grace.”

“Aw jeez...”

---

“That little bitch! I had her. I freaking HAD HER! She was right here... I could’ve strangled that little...”

Grace paced a hole into the floor as she tried in vain to dry her damp clothing. Marcus could do nothing but prop himself up against a stand, cigarette in hand, doing his best to process the ever-loving shit-show that had transpired. The two officers he brought with him were called to deal with the other issues.

“You attacked a child,” Marcus muttered to himself, laughing a little bit if only out of disbelief. “You manhandled and chased a thirteen-year-old in public. Grace, they could arrest you for this!”

“Oh hohohoho, I’d love to see them try!” she yelled, grabbing and shaking him by the lapels. “We’re the victims here, Marcus, not her! I deserve a freaking medal for showing that much restraint!” 

“WU!”

Both Wus snapped their heads to see Oum and Bee Boonchuy skidding to a stop before them, their hands interlocked. Grace let her husband go and glared daggers at the pair, stopping short of stalking towards them by his hand firmly gripping her wrist. Instead, she donned that fake smile she’d been forced to wear in too many situations in her life.

“Oum! Bee!” she chirped blithely, venom all but seeping through her teeth. “Golly gosh, I haven’t seen you two in months. So, how was YOUR Christmas?!”

Oum felt her husband squeezing her hand, a nonverbal reassurance. She cooled any thoughts she had of smacking the woman who had been threatening her daughter upside the head. For Anne and the Plantars’ sake, they needed to de-escalate the situation and fast.

“Grace, you need to listen--”

“Because when I wasn’t crying my eyes out, I spent most of mine with my head over a toilet, while Marcus held my hair! Loved your float though! I’m surprised that in all the chaos, I didn’t see your DAUGHTER!! ”

The ferocity of her scream made Oum flinch. A dreadful feeling of guilt was shared by both Boonchuys at that moment. They felt it on Christmas morning as well, knowing full well three other families were being deprived of the same joy and relief of having their missing children back for the holidays.

Oum’s hand had hovered over her phone several times that day, but she could not summon the courage to call them. It shamed her.

“I’m sorry, Grace,” she sighed after a moment’s pause. “Please understand, we’ve wanted to tell you about Anne coming back. We didn’t know how, we... it’s complicat–”

“OH SPARE US!”

“Just tell us where your daughter is, Boonchuy,” said Marcus, still holding his wife tentatively back by the wrist. There was an unsubtle hint of threat in his voice, as if the wrong answer would result in him siccing his hellhound on them.

A livid Bee spoke up this time, “We don’t know where she’s run off to! Mainly ‘cause your wife chased her around the store like a crazy person!”

“Aww, did I scare her?” Grace snorted. “I’d be far more worried about dealing with the police if I were her! Oh, and we’re definitely pressing charges, by the way.”

“For what?”

“Kidnapping, for a start!”

“What are you talking about?!” asked Oum incredulously. “Anne didn’t kidnap Marcy and Sasha, that’s ridiculous!”

“Alright then...” 

Marcus’ hardened expression didn’t falter. He shared a look with Grace and released his grip, and instead of charging on the Boonchuys, she stood poutily by his side, allowing him to rest his hand on her shoulder.

“Do tell us then,” he continued evenly, “what exactly did happen? Because after near enough a year of no answers, we are dying to know.”

Now it was the Boonchuys chance to hold a silent conference. Oum looked her husband in the eye and gave him a nod. He in turn took a deep breath. It was going to be a long shot, but they weren’t spoiled for options at the moment.

“Okay...” Bee slowly pounded his fist into his open palm. “You saw those three little guys we came into the store with?”

“Not exactly, but we know who you’re talking about.”

“So get this: after you told her you guys were moving out of state, Marcy freaked out and deliberately got Anne, Sasha, and herself trapped in another world full of talking frogs called Amphibia. Those guys Anne came back with? They’re her adoptive frog family. Soooo to make a long story short, the girls had a big fat problem, ‘cause Marcy kinda-sorta went crazy and teamed up with the evil newt king who rules the place who, as we speak, is planning to invade Earth with an army of robotnoGracewhatreyoudoingWAIT–”

Oum didn’t realize she had been punched in the face until she hit the floor hard. Her vision blurred and the world around her began to slowly spin. Before Bee could even rush to his wife’s aid, he felt Grace’s coarse nails roughly dig themselves into the sides of his neck. Her hands wrapped tight around the man’s throat. Grace threw him into one of the store’s tall shelves, causing miniature garden gnomes to rain down around him.

She stalked over to him, stopping inches from his face. She hissed, “Keep my baby’s name out of your mouth! ”

Earth-shattering, scorching hot pain shot through every nerve ending in Bee’s body, causing him to double over in pain. Grace withdrew her knee from between the man’s legs and released her grip, using it to backhand him across the face, sending him crashing to the floor right next to his wife.

Grace didn’t even regard her husband, who stood there appalled by what he had just witnessed. She just slinked away without a word, jibbering and muttering under her breath like an absolutely unhinged person.

The footsteps of a mother on a mission echoed throughout the now eerily quiet store as Grace turned a corner and disappeared. Marcus watched as Bee got to his knees, still nursing the pain in his nether regions. He saw Oum holding her nose, blood trickling out from between her fingers. Marcus ran over to her and knelt down, pulling out a tissue from his pocket. Bee looked up and saw red. 

Crawling over to his wife, he roughly shoved Marcus away. “GET AWAY FROM HER!”

“Bee, just let me help.”

“HELP?!” Bee yelled as he held the tissue to Oum’s nose. “If this is what you call ‘helping’, Marcus, I’d hate to think what you… not helping looks like!”

“I didn’t want any of this to happen!” Marcus pleaded, running his hands through his hair, “Please, Grace isn’t well, she hasn’t been for months! This is why Amanda didn’t want her involved in her plan.”

“You mean her plan to take our daughter away from us?” Bee got back up on his feet, helping his wife do the same. “To kidnap the Plantars?”

“We just…” Marcus stuttered, “We just want our daughter back. It’s torn our family apart, you of all people should understand! And– and that whole frog story didn’t exactly help, you know!”

“For the love of–!”

“She wants more than just getting Marcy back,” Oum nasally responded, her nose pinched off to stop the flow of blood. “She wants to hurt Anne, and we won’t let that happen. Listen Marcus, if you really care about finding Marcy and Sasha, then you’ll shut up and listen to what Bee was telling you. And if you want to apologize for your wife, you’ll help us stop her!” 

Marcus hung his head and wiped his eyes, as if trying to rid the sheer frustration from his system, obviously to no avail. The last few months’ friction between him and his wife had taken their toll, snowballing to this exact moment. Looking at what seemed to be his former friends, Oum wiped her bleeding nose with the stained tissue while Bee tended to her, the contrast between the two couples couldn’t have been more obvious.

He reached into his pocket and dialed Amanda’s number.

---

Anne ducked behind a corner, knees curled up to her chest and raking her fingers through her bushy hair. She sat there for minutes, waiting for her breathing and heart rate to subside before she forced herself to continue her journey to the exit. So far she’d been lucky enough to avoid the cops and there was no sign of that lunatic in ice cream-stained shoes.

‘I am heading for a heart attack before I’m 20, aren’t I?’ she thought to herself, mentally checking off the times she’d already run for her life in the run-up to this moment. 

These thoughts were broken by the sounds of heavy footfalls, boots cluttering off the linoleum floor. She hardly looked up before she heard a radio microphone chirp to life and a man proclaim, “We’ve found her, Commander!”

‘Aww, figs.’

Three of them, sprinting right at her. Anne groaned miserably as clamored to her feet and took off down the nearest aisle, zipping past the food court. Looking back, she saw the detectives gaining ground as she put her head down and sprinted faster, not seeing the woman in front of her whom she collided with. Crashing onto her back, Anne’s head rang like a bell.She looked up and immediately started crawling back upon seeing Amanda Waybright quickly get back to her feet. 

Amanda held up her hand, and the pursuing detectives stopped where they stood.

“Okay, Anne, Anne!” Amanda raised both hands in a nonthreatening manner. “Please, you need to stop running and listen to us. Right now, I’m trying to protect you.”

“It…” Anne began, swiveling her head around at the police officers. “It really doesn’t look like it!”

Amanda surveyed the situation and noted the overbearing presence of police officers wasn’t exactly helping her case. Without a word, she jerked her head to the side, and they took their leave.

“Look, none of this,” – Amanda made an all encompassing gesture around her – “was part of the plan, Anne. Okay? This whole thing has been...” She sighed, looking pretty embarrassed. “A total disaster.”

“What part? Chasing me and my family down so you can throw us in the big house?” Anne needled her, “Or siccing Grace on me?! What, were all the police dogs busy?!”

“I didn’t want Grace involved in the first place! Unless you haven’t noticed, Anne, she’s not in her right frame of mind! You’ve no idea what losing Marcy’s done to her.”

Anne got back up, starting to really process what Amanda was saying; she could have sworn she saw tears building up in the latter’s eyes.

“... or what it’s done to the rest of us.”

‘Wait til you learn the rest,’ Anne thought dejectedly. 

“Oh, Aaaaanne!”

Like the monster in an indie horror game, Grace appeared, standing at the edge of the aisle. Her chest heaved up and down as she lidded her eyes, trudging forward with an unsteady and almost inhuman gait. Amanda turned her back to Anne and stared down the skulking mother. 

“Stop right there,” she warned her. “You’ve already done enough.”

“Have I? Well, that’s too bad,” Grace growled, reaching out and dragging her nails across the metal shelves, emitting a skin-crawling squeaking sound. “‘Cause I was just getting started!”

“Grace, I need you to think about exactly what it is you're doing right now. You’ve put yourself, your husband and my officers in danger with all you’ve done. I’ve every right by this point to arrest you. Is this how you want it to go down?”

Grace tilted her head to the side, almost like a child who just had their parent scold them for something they didn’t understand. “I thought you were on my side, Amanda.”

“I’m on my daughter’s side, Grace,” Amanda corrected. “And I’m on your daughter’s side, too. I don’t know yet exactly what Anne and her family have or haven’t done, but you’ve made this situation a hundred times worse than it needed to be. That’s on you, Grace.”

The tension was cut by the sound of Amanda’s phone ringing. She hastily answered it, before slowly lowering it from her ear.

“And I think your husband would agree.”

She tossed Grace her phone, the angry woman fumbling around before she grabbed a hold of it. 

She put it to her ear. “Hello?”

“ Grace, honey. Listen to me-”

“OhnonononoNO! I am DONE listening to you! You pathetic excuse for a man. I knew I shouldn’t have given you another chance! Only you would backstab me like this, after everything you’ve put me through!”

“ You seriously think you’re the only one who’s had it rough?!” Marcus’ voice swelled up over the speaker phone. “You think there’s nothing I want more than our baby back?!? For crying out loud, Grace, you act as if you’re the only parent here who’s lost something!”

Grace choked back a sob and was on the verge of tossing the phone away.

“ Honey, just let Amanda do what she needs to do , and we’ll get through this together. It’s something I should have promised you a long time ago.”

By this point, the tears were freely flowing down Grace’s face. Amanda felt a rush of raw pain tug at her heartstrings and was on the verge of doing the same. Her years of practicing keeping her cool was the only thing that stopped it.

“You see, Grace?” Amanda said, her tone a lot softer now, “All of us are in the same crummy boat. You, me, Marcus, Rick. We all just want our girls back, but that won’t happen if you spiral out of control like this. Just let me take Anne downtown so I can find out what she knows.”

She gently placed her hands on Grace’s shoulders, who was still covering her face, liquid streaks of mascara leaking through her fingers.

“It’s ok, Grace,” said Amanda, before she turned to her phone. “Marcus, I’ve got it from here.”

The phone hung up, and Amanda placed it back in her pocket. Then, without warning, she pulled Grace in for a hug, which the woman seemed happy to reciprocate. All throughout this tense interaction, Anne hung back in awkward silence. Whatever kept that whacko from putting her manicure nails around her neck, she was grateful for it. More importantly, maybe she had a chance now to reason with these people, Amanda at the least. She smiled a little in relief.

It also put a smile on Grace’s face. A wide, toothy, unhinged, terrifying…

‘Oh no,’ Anne thought, her own smile dropping.

“You stupid pig! ”

Amanda only realized she’d been had right before she found herself thrown over Grace’s shoulder and slammed to the cold, hard ground. She felt her back crack and the wind knocked out of her. Her lungs burned like a wild fire as she exhaled a raspy breath.

“Did you actually think some sentimental bullshit was gonna stop me?” Grace cackled mockingly, before taking her foot and stomping it on Amanda’s face.

She then turned on a petrified Anne, who couldn’t believe what she had just seen unfold. “Now where were we, dear? Oh that’s right, I’m about to give you your first experience of street justice !”

Grace trudged towards Anne, who was frozen in place. No matter what she did, how far or fast she ran, she just couldn’t shake this lady. This was not the Protector of Wartwood that the Plantars and every amphibian had come to embrace over five months. This was just Anne: the unconfident, easily-persuaded, irresponsible teenager she had come to hate and fully reject after realizing how toxic it had made her. A mere-13 year old girl who wasn’t cut out to fight anyone. With wild abandon, Anne thrust her fist forward, striking the older woman dead in the jaw. 

Grace’s head jerked sideways, remaining strong on her feet. She rolled her jaw before chuckling.

“Is that it? Pfft, my mother hit me harder with her slipper!”

Anne paled. Not only by the fact she’d actually hit Grace in the face, but how the latter brushed it off like it was nothing. What the heck was this lady? Her crazy ex-BFF’s even crazier mother, that’s what!

“My turn!”

A rock solid kick knocked the wind straight out of Anne’s lungs. Saliva dripped from her mouth as she was sent tumbling backwards and into the open. She swung again with all her might, but now she was so disoriented, that Grace had to simply stick out her foot to trip her. Anne’s chin hit the floor, her agonizing groans muffling against the cement. She didn’t have much time to process the pain before she felt her collar being grabbed and she was flung back into a nearby display stack of boxes.

Everything went dark after that, thankfully not because she fell unconscious, rather due to the boxes collapsing from Anne’s impact and burying her. Grace’s hand reached through the heap, grabbing a large handful of Anne’s frazzled hair, and dragged her up into the air like a hooked trout. Anne couldn’t even struggle to break free, her body racked with pain and fatigue from everything she had been put through. She could only groan in pain as Grace twisted her hair, sending shockwaves down to the roots.

“Where’s my daughter, Anne?”

“... in another world full of talking fr-ACK!”

“HehehehehHeheheheh!”

Both her hands locked themselves around Anne’s throat in a death grip. Tears sprung from her bugged, reddened eyes.

TWIP!

Suddenly, Anne found herself unceremoniously dropped onto the floor as Grace’s entire body went rigid. Her teeth grinded against one another as her body began to spasm uncontrollably. Unable to take it anymore, the woman fell forward on her face, out cold.

Massaging her bruising neck and catching her breath, Anne looked over Grace’s body and saw two darts injected right into her back, connected to two electrified cords. Her eyes followed up to see Amanda back on her feet, her left hand holding her ribs and gripping her standard-issue stun gun in the other.

“E....nough,” she grunted, before turning to Anne with a dour expression. “Ready to come downtown now, Anne? You know this isn’t going away.”

Anne closed her eyes. No sooner did she realize the absolute futility of her situation.

She croaked, “Yeah, let’s go.”

---

“I really hope that Amanda handled things. For your wife’s sake.”

Oum’s words dripped with a thick layer of bitterness and sarcasm, to which Marcus only hung his head silently. Bee could not wipe the scowl off his face as the three walked to the front of the store. There, they encountered a large police presence, with those in patrol uniforms taking questions from witnesses and store employees, while plainclothes detectives waited outside.

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

Marcus and Oum looked ahead at what Bee was staring at. Out of one of the aisles, two detectives dragged a frazzled Grace, her feet dragging along the floor as incoherent gibberish escaped her lips. Marcus bolted over to his wife and blocked the detectives from advancing at the speed of light.

“What happened?!” Marcus angrily questioned. “What did you do to her?!”

“What we di– Wu, you better keep your trap shut!”

Unfiltered fury pierced the air as Amanda emerged from the same aisle her subordinates did. Marcus immediately took note of how roughed up she looked. She was holding her side and both of her eyes were bruised, a faint shoe print on the left side of her face. Her left arm dangled lazily, a result of hitting the floor hard on that shoulder in her tussle with Grace.

“You are going to be incredibly lucky if I decide not to overlook all this,” Amanda turned to the two detectives. “Take her back to my car, and for the love of God, don’t let her out of your sight.”

They nodded and took their leave, with Marcus following behind. Bee and Oum, standing there in shock of what had transpired, were nearly moved to tears once they saw Anne walking out of the shadow of the tall shelves and into the light. They ran up to her and enveloped her in a great big hug. She gritted her teeth, her bruised ribs causing a good amount of discomfort. 

Amanda loomed over them. “As much as I hate to break up this reunion, we need to go.”.

“We aren’t going anywhere with you.” Bee whirled around and pointed an accusatory finger in her face. “You nearly got our daughter killed!”

“Look at what she did to Anne,” Oum gestured to her silent daughter’s wounds, wrapping her arms around her protectively. “And look at what she did to my husband and I! I think my nose might be broken. Oh! Oh...” She turned her head and screamed in the Wus’ general direction, “If you think you’re pressing charges, just you wait, Marcus!”

“If you think we’re letting you take Anne from us you’ve got another--”

Bee poked his finger harshly against Amanda’s nose. The police commander winced in annoyance.

“-thing-”

Bee did it again, her patience level just about to reach its limit as he prodded her again.

“-comi--”

She shot her hand up and violently bent Bee’s entire hand back. Her free hand reached into her belt.

“OHMYGAH!!”

“Dad!” Anne cried out, as her mother gasped before instinctively balling her fist and heaving it straight at Amanda’s face. The seasoned police officer was much quicker, withdrawing her hand from her belt and catching her would-be assailant’s wrist with one half of her handcuffs.

Oum found herself dragged face first to the floor, dazed and disoriented, as Amanda secured the other half of the handcuffs around Bee’s wrist.

“I wasn’t asking.” 

“Hey!” Anne shouted, her fists balled up tight. “You said you wouldn’t hurt them!”

“Do not test me right now, Anne! This has been one heck of a day!” 

A semi-circle of cops materialized around Anne. The walls had finally closed in, and there was nowhere left to run. Resigned to this fact, she followed them all out of the store.

---

“This is an abuse of power!” yelled Bee, he and his wife being led into the back of a police van. “You’ll never get away with this!”

His cries of protest were ignored as they were placed in the van, officers strapping them in and handcuffing them to pipes on the seats. Anne stepped out into the sunlight of the Los Angeles afternoon, taking note of the endless amount of squad cars lining the parking lot. Over by one of them, she noticed Rick getting looked at by two paramedics who had also arrived on scene.

Unfortunately for her, it was about to get even more crowded.

Overhead, the sound of blades fluttering through the air grew closer and closer as two helicopters and a group of black trucks pulled into the parking lot. Agents in black tactical gear marked ‘FBI’ filed out of the vehicles and slid down ropes from their aerial transport. Out of one such van, Anne caught a flash of purple light reflecting off the remarkably bald head of one Mr. X. A smug smile on his bright red lips, and a fresh set of wheels in his heels, he zoomed over to the center of all of the commotion, and right up to Amanda, who held Anne by the shoulder.

“Thank you soooo much, Commander,” Mr. X seized Anne by the arm. “We’ll take it from here.”

Amanda slapped X’s hand away. “Like heck you are! The Boonchuys are my investigation, last time I recall.”

“Oh, dear Amanda,” he smirked, “we’re the federal government. You know how this works:  any business of yours--”

“I am in NO mood for this, X!” Amanda spat, catching X off guard. “After the ever-lovin’ shitshow that just went down in there, I am in no mood! You are the one who insisted on this joint operation, and you are the one who wanted those frogs for yourself. Well, guess what? We got ‘em”

Anne’s eyes shot wide open, “Wait, what?!”

X groaned irately as both adults ignored Anne’s pained expression. “Just show me where they are.”

Amanda gestured to two of her officers, who opened the car door directly across from the police van, revealing Hop Pop, Sprig, and Polly, all handcuffed and a bit roughed up. Once Anne saw their scared faces, she ran towards them with fraught worry.

“GUYS!”

“Anne!” All three Plantars scrambled out of the cruiser and made a beeline for her. Some officers instinctively made a break for the three frogs to keep them from escaping, but Amanda silently stopped them, while Mr. X blocked their path to Anne, who stopped on a dime.

“Looks like we’ve caught you at last, my little froggies.” X smugly bared his teeth.

Sprig and Polly just stood there, frozen with fear, while Hop Pop tried one last plat, “Heh heh, frogs? What frogs?”

With a single push of a button on his watch, X activated a laser that surgically cut Hop Pop’s disguise. The jacket, hat, and glasses broke apart, leaving the older frog standing there with nothing but a pair of light blue boxers decorated with roaches. He innocently croaked and the surrounding officers and agents gasped in surprise and horror

“Guys, run!” Anne yelled. The Plantars didn’t get the chance to bail before Mr. X’s compatriot, Jenny, pulled out a green cannon and pulled the trigger, deploying a net and capturing all three of them in their tracks. A massive, burly FBI agent scooped the frogs up in his arms. 

“No! Don’t hurt them!” Anne reached out for her family, while X turned around and loomed over the girl. 

“I’ve gotta say, kid, you’ve caused me a ton of grief,” Mr. X tilted his head and rested it in his hand, “but that’s all over now. Pack it up, boys.”

“What about the girl and her parents?” The agent holding the Plantars asked.

“We’ll take them from here,” Amanda stepped in, “if that’s alright with you?”

The way Amanda stared down X made the FBI agent know that the police commander wasn’t exactly asking nicely. X sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Fair enough, they’re all yours.” He conceded before flashing a smirk. “We’ve got everything we need anyway.”

The Plantars were thrown into a cage in the back of one of the FBI’s trucks as Amanda put Anne in the back of the police van with her parents, strapping her in against her best efforts to fight.

“Guys, NO!” Anne screamed, tears in the corners of her eyes as the Plantars yelled back for her, until both families were plunged into darkness, the doors to their respective prisons cutting them off from one another.

Notes:

Shit has officially hit the fan, ladies and gentlemen! Where do things go from here for the Boonchuys? What exactly does Amanda plan to do? And more importantly, how will they get back to the Plantars? Hopefully, it won't take eight more months to find out. Leave us a comment and tell us how we did this time around.

This is TheAllTimeGreatest signing off!

Chapter 17

Chapter by TheAllTimeGreatest

Summary:

Anne and Amanda come face-to-face with one another, Marcus and Grace are finally told the truth about their daughter, and a plan to rescue the Plantars is set into motion.

Notes:

Hey guys! Long time no see!

We are back with the next edition of A Moth to a Flame! Last time, the LAPD and the FBI finally closed in on Anne, the Boonchuys, and the Planters, with one Grace Wu going full-on crazy trying to chase down Anne. Now, Anne and her parents are in LAPD custody, while the Plantars have been captured by the FBI. How will Anne get back to her froggy family in time to return to Amphibia and prevent the coming invasion?

It's time to find out!

Gray, lifeless walls stared back at her. The sting of the cold metal bench was just as unwelcoming. The divots in the concrete rubbed up against her hair, bits of her curls tugging and pulling at her scalp. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, her chin resting lazily on her knees. She made a conscious effort not to poke and prod at the numerous bruises on her shins. Without her phone, she was given plenty of time to think about how she ended up in this minuscule holding cell.

When she thought about it, Anne knew she had no right to be surprised that this day had come; maybe, deep down, that guilty part of her subconscious wanted to get found. Now she, and only she, was responsible for putting herself and her parents here, trapped inside a prison where the walls felt like they were inching closer and closer toward her. Not to mention the poor Plantars…

Anne finally laid her head down, covering her face to prevent anyone from seeing the tears flow down her face. The feeling of helplessness and fear etched onto the faces of her found froggy family as both of their worlds were plunged into pitch-black darkness was like a sharp knife piercing straight through the center of her heart. Anne strained her vocal cords, letting out a strangled cry as she felt a hitch in the pit of her diaphragm. She wanted to completely shut out this cruel, unrelenting reality, to escape to the pit of her own despair, where she might be alone, but at least she could wallow in privacy.

“Anne…”

A soft hand found the top of her head, massaging her messy hair with a loving touch. Another found her shoulder. Lifting her head, she saw her parents' concerned looks and worry-filled eyes. Her father brought his hand to her face, wiping the tears away with his thumb. Her mother sat beside Anne on the bench, taking her in her arms. Her father did the same, as the three imprisoned Boonchuys did all they could to hold each other close, knowing all too well of the possibility that someone could barge into their little world and rip them away from each other, much like the FBI did with the Plantars. 

The very least that Mrs. Waybright had done for them was to allow them to be placed in the same holding cell together. This usually went against police procedure, but Anne figured it was done with a modicum of care. The care that she never bothered to give them once she had them in her custody.

BZZZZZZ!

The loud screech of the buzzer caught all three of them off guard as the heavy metal door was heaved open by a burly police officer. 

“Anne Boonchuy.”

The officer flicked his head swiftly to the right. Anne knew what this meant, and it made her shrink back into her parents’ arms with a terror she had not felt since her first lonely days in Amphibia. She rapidly shook her head, nonverbally pleading with her parents not to let her go. The officer simply stood there, his patience already starting to run thin. Oum, putting on her bravest face, cupped Anne’s cheeks.

“It’s ok, Anne. We aren’t going anywhere. We promise.”

She placed a soft kiss on top of her head. Anne was quickly enveloped in another quick hug from her parents. Taking a deep breath and shakily making it to her feet, she trudged over to the doorway, allowing herself to look back one last time at the smiling, strong faces of her parents before the officer led her down the corridor. Since Anne and her parents were not “technically” under arrest, no handcuffs were required to escort her. Then again, seeing as how there were multiple other officers standing at the fringes of the hallway, the cuffs would have been a moot point. Their hands were clasped over the shoulder straps of their protective vests, their eyes staring forward, almost as if they were waiting for something to go down. 

The plain white corridor walls quickly turned to unforgiving, cold cinderblock. She was led to a full gray, heavy metal door. The officer pushed a button next to the handle, and a short buzz later, the door was thrown open as Anne was led into a room no bigger than her holding cell. A small metal table sat in the middle of the room, a chair on each side. A single dim light hung ominously from the ceiling while a wide mirror was fixed on the far wall. Anne had seen enough police procedural shows to know how this would happen. The mirror was definitely two-way, a group of detectives presumably spectating on the other side. The thing that caught Anne’s attention was the detective sitting in one of the chairs.

Amanda had made herself comfortable in an otherwise rigid chair. A manilla folder was splayed out in front of her with various papers, hands folded rather patiently. Anne made out the bruises on her face from her scrap with Grace even from a distance, while her own didn’t go unnoticed by the seasoned officer. 

“That’ll be all, Officer.”

Amanda’s blunt, direct sense of getting things done always perturbed Anne. The officer left, the door shutting behind him. Amanda motioned for Anne to sit, which she did without hesitation. 

“Look, Anne, I’m going to be perfectly straight with you,” Amanda started, leaning forward, “This is not looking good for either you or your parents. We have spent the last six months meticulously reviewing this case, but we have turned up absolutely nothing. When you, Sasha, and Marcy all disappeared, it was as if you vanished without a trace. No single strand of evidence left behind, no paper trail, nothing. Then…”

Amanda dug underneath the stack of papers, pulled out two very familiar letters, and plopped them down in front of Anne. It didn’t take Anne long to realize it was the letter she had sent to Amanda and Rick at Christmastime.

She wanted to bang her forehead against the table. Of course.

“A little tip: it’s probably not a good idea to send something that looks a lot like a hostage note to someone who analyzes this kind of stuff for a living,” Amanda scolded her, sounding almost offended by her gross lack of foresight, “Now, I wouldn’t think this would be the break in the cases we needed. That is, until a few weeks ago when your parents showed up at one of Rick’s dealerships. Remember that?”

Anne was legitimately confused—the first time in a few days. “Wait, what? What are you talking about?”

Amanda slammed her open palm against the table, “Anne! Don’t play dumb with me! I’m talking about this.”

She rifled through the papers and pulled out a few black-and-white photos of what appeared to be security footage. One of them showed Oum and Bee greeting Rick in the showroom of the latter’s dealership, the other of the Boonchuy’s disheveled family van pulling into the lot.

“This was around 5:30 in the evening. Rick said he was about to close up shop when your parents came rolling into the parking lot with their car looking like it just plunged down a cliff. They chatted him up and asked him how he was, the usual small talk. Now, what I found interesting was this little doozy...”

Amanda produced a third photo, this one a closeup of the image of the van driving into the dealership. It was zoomed in towards the back window. More specifically, it zoomed in on Anne, fast asleep and slumped against the window, obscuring the right side of her face and pressing her hair against the glass. Anne was at a loss for words. The last thing she remembered from that night was booting the Cloakbot into the stratosphere. After that, she woke up in her bed the next morning. 

“Mrs. Waybright, I’m serious,” she said once she’d put her thoughts together, “I don’t remember any of that. I mean, look at it, I’m clearly not awake here..”

“Whatever the case may be, Rick said your parents seemed to be in a state of shock and that they needed their car repaired as soon as possible, from what, I don’t know. He offered you guys a rental car for a few days while the car was repaired. I gotta say, how you managed to stay undetected by the mechanics is beyond me.”

It was beyond Anne, too. 

“But alright, fine. Say I can take you at your word that you don’t really remember anything about that night. Let’s focus on what you do know.”

She shrunk back, “Like what?”

The older woman tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and took a long inhale, composing herself for her first question, “What, the living Hell, were those… things with you?”

Having to hear her frog family be described as “things” for the umpteenth time lit a fire in Anne’s belly, but she knew this was not the time to pick a fight. She was going to need to get Amanda on her side if she had any hope of getting out of this jam, so a good place to start would be biting her tongue and just coming clean. 

“They’re…” Anne shut her eyes, bracing herself, “Frogs.”

Amanda could only roll her eyes, “Yes, Anne. I’m perfectly aware that they’re frogs. I was asking more along the lines of why they’re huge and, oh, I don’t know, talking ?!”

“You’re gonna think I’m crazy...” 

“Kid, this entire situation is crazy. I’m pretty sure whatever you tell me isn’t going to sound that far-fetched.”

Anne twirled her thumbs, eyes gazing up at the stained ceiling tiles. Her brain was working overtime, trying to find a way to spin this that didn’t make it sound like some story she was making up as a joke. While Amanda was certainly being reasonable at the moment, she couldn’t risk provoking yet another freakout from one of her friends’ parents.

“They’re from another world.”

Yeah, she definitely nailed that one, judging from her dumbfounded expression. For all Amanda’s tough talk, she most likely wasn’t counting on that.

“What... like they’re aliens or something?”

“No,” Anne said, pinching her sinuses. “They’re more like… from another dimension, I guess? Like, they don’t come from our universe. At least, I don’t think they do.”

They are fitting you for a straightjacket behind that mirror as we speak, chided the weary left side of her brain. 

“I mean,” Amanda started, “I guess… wow.”

“I’d understand if you don’t believe me.” 

In lieu of a direct answer, she leaned forward in her chair and locked eyes with her, evidently analyzing her facial expressions for any kind of tell or giveaway. Anne, brought up on police procedurals, immediately understood what she was doing and simply stared back.

“Alright, let’s say I  believe you...” Amanda spoke slowly, “Is that where you’ve been these last few months? Marcy and Sasha too?” 

When Anne silently nodded, she pulled another Manila folder from the stack and opened it, spilling photos and police reports. Anne recognized the photos from the playground, of the pictures showing the bench she had been sitting on when she opened…

“How did you guys get there?” Amanda continued rifling through the papers, holding them up and shaking them, “We spent months searching for evidence, and we found bupkiss.”

…the music box. Anne was about to respond before she remembered exactly how she got it. She wasn’t about to tell a cop that she stole it from a thrift shop.

“There was this music box. Sasha gave it to me for my birthday,” she fibbed. “She said she bought it from a thrift store.”

It wasn’t the most unconvincing lie. Unfortunately, Amanda’s hawk eye hadn’t yet taken itself off her, and it picked up a small but unmistakable sweat bead racing down the side of her face.

Got her.

“Interesting,” Amanda steepled her fingers, “Except both Rick and I had Sasha cut off from her allowance after we found out she ditched school a few weeks before, and we both know she’s more of a ‘spend now, save later,’ kind of girl.”

Anne paled and tried to pivot, “Well, maybe given how I’m her best friend, she squirreled something away to buy me a birthday present. You ever think of that?”

“I think I know my own daughter, Anne.”

“ Maybe not as well as you think…”

“What did you just say?”

Oh crud. Anne mentally facepalmed herself. She just couldn’t keep her big mouth shut, could she?

“Uh...uh..”

Glaring daggers at her, Amanda got up from her chair. 

“Maybe we should pause this--”

“FINE!” Anne blurted out, “I stole it! I stole the stupid music box from the thrift store. Is that what you wanted to hear?! That I’m a thief?!

Amanda blinked and then smiled, almost uncomfortably smug, “Now we’re being honest with each other.” She sat back down. “And then what happened?”

“We took the box to the old playground to see what was inside.”

Pulling out a few police reports and plopping them down in front of Anne, she asked, “Would it be accurate to say that this took place around 7 PM?”

“Uh,” Anne thought back. It was dark, a plane was flying overhead, it was a fairly chilly night, and her mom was blowing up her phone, “I think so, but what does that matter?”

“Because we received multiple reports of sudden blackouts across the city that followed what many witnesses described as a “blue ball of fire” over the city. Ain’t seen something like this since the electricity crisis back in 2001. I assume that was you three with this so-called ‘music box?’”

That lined up with Dr. Frakes’ explanation about the energy surge caused by the box being opened and activated. It probably only made any attempts to find them that night even more difficult, Anne figured.

“Yeah, that’s when we were sent to Amphibia,” she sighed. 

Amanda perked up, “Come again?”

“Where we ended up. It’s called Amphibia.”

Amanda started connecting the frogs and the name of the other world, “Huh, guess that explains the frogs. Little on the nose, don’t you think?”

Anne grumbled, lazily shrugging her shoulders, rebuffing her efforts to act friendly and humorous. The police commander just sighed and continued on.

“So you’re stuck in Amphibia for months, then you show back up in Los Angeles with the frogs with the music box, I’m guessing? But no Marcy or Sasha. So what happened to them?”

Anne fussed in her chair. Her mind was racing, her heart throbbed like an engine piston, and her mouth went dry. Miraculously, she’d made it this far, but how could she tell her everything that happened? How Sasha had become a Lieutenant in an army that tried to kill Hop Pop and Sprig. How she betrayed Anne in Newtopia and tried to kill one another in their duel atop the city walls. How there was a tyrannical king hellbent on multiversal conquest. How Marcy…

She clutched her heaving chest with a clammy hand. Her face turned red from all her hyperventilating, sweat starting to seep from her pores despite being rather humid inside the stuffy room. 

Amanda instantly entered “good cop” mode, her maternal instincts kicking in. She reached forward and, very carefully so as not to trigger her even worse, gently took her hand into her own. Anne managed to look up, her vision turning black around her, closing off her surroundings save for Amanda, who did not speak but rather started to perform deep, slow breathing techniques. She inhaled for five seconds, held her breath for seven seconds, and exhaled for another five seconds. 

She repeated this pattern without uttering a single word. Within minutes, Anne began to replicate her technique, and her vision began to expand. She stopped sweating and removed her hand from her chest, which now ebbed and flowed like a steady stream. Amanda slowly withdrew her hands.

“I call that the haiku technique,” she told her, “It helped Sasha calm down when she was having a rough day. We can move on if you want.”

Nodding, Anne took one more deep breath, “Sasha and Marcy are fine. I can’t… I don’t feel comfortable explaining exactly what happened to them... not right now, but I promise you they’re both okay!” She added the last part hastily.

While it may not have been the ideal answer they had been looking for, Amanda decided it was at least a big step in the right direction. Hearing Anne acknowledge her daughter was alive felt like a weight off her shoulders, though she could not let it show. She was going to need to continue being patient.

“But then why didn’t you come to me, Rick, or Marcus and Grace the moment you got back? It’s been months, Anne; you could have reached out at any time!”

“What was I supposed to say to you guys?!” asked Anne incredulously, elbows propped on the table as she leaned forward. “‘Hey guys, just got back from a five-month interdimensional vacation in a world of talking frogs. Be-tee-dubs, Sash, and Mar-Mar are still stuck there, but I’m fine and all kaythanksbyyyyyye!’” After a half-hearted attempt at jazz hands, she bitterly concluded, “At best, I’d be laughed out of the room. At worst, we’d still both end up sitting here.”

“... hmm, ya got me there. Tell you the truth, I wouldn’t have believed a word you said if Mr. X showed me the evidence he and the FBI had been gathering.”

A lightbulb went off in Anne’s head when she heard X’s name being dropped, “Hey, Mrs. Waybright,” she began carefully, “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Why were you and Mr. X working together in the first place?”

Amanda suddenly found herself a tad tongue-tied, struggling to answer. It was easy to say that the FBI approached Amanda and the LAPD for a joint operation with national security implications, but the finer details were more delicate than that.

“Well,” She scratched the back of her head, “We’d been coordinating with the FBI since you girls disappeared. It wasn’t until I got your letter and the dealership footage that we made a connection between our separate investigations. The FBI was looking for your frogs, and we were looking for you, so we just teamed up.”.”

How could she have been so ludicrously ignorant? She should have seen this all coming a mile away. All because she just had to write those froggin’ letters to assuage her guilty conscience!  

Her thoughts then turned to the Wus. What a living nightmare their lives had become, as Grace had made abundantly clear during her pursuit. That letter must have been the last straw to send her over the edge. Now more than ever, they needed to be told the truth, for all their sakes, and this may be the only chance she had.

“I need to talk to Marcy’s parents.”

Amanda blinked, “Err, perdón.”

“They…” Anne steadied her shuddering breath, “They deserve to hear what I just told you, too. Maybe it will give them some peace.”

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea, Anne. She literally tried to kill you like-- two hours ago.”

“Mrs. Waybright... I need to do this. I can’t keep running from this. I... think maybe their being here will make it easier to talk more about Marcy and Sasha. Please.”

The world-weary cop cupped her hands together and bit the inside of her cheek. This kid never was the brightest knife in the drawer in all the years she’d known her to begin with, so she really must have taken one too many bumps to the noggin today to think this was a good idea. On the other hand, the dangling carrot of more important information was hard to turn down. So she sighed, shook her head, and made her way to the door, hitting the button to signal to the desk to unlock the door.

“I’m staying in the room with you,” she acquiesced, “I’m not having a repeat of what happened in Costco, not on my watch.”

Anne smiled but called back to her, “Just one more thing.”

“What?”

She shuffled her feet underneath the table, “I need you to bring me my backpack. I know it sounds weird, but there’s something in there that I need to show the Wu’s.”

Amanda silently nodded and marched out the door. Left alone with her thoughts once more and the silent droning of the fluorescent light, Anne had nothing to do but wait.

---

“Thoughts, gentlemen?”

Amanda stood, arms crossed, before her core team of investigators. Alongside them was Rick, who sat cross-legged on a chair. Also sitting at the far end of the table was her boss, an African-American man sporting a short haircut and wearing the official LAPD uniform. Pinned to his collar were two stars, indicating his higher rank.

He’d fastidiously observed everything that had transpired in that room, and it rendered him dumbfounded.

“Commander, do you really believe this kid’s story?” the Deputy Chief asked her incredulously. “Look, I’m fully aware we’re in L.A., but even for our standards, this is ridiculous! I mean, this is like some kind of science-fiction deal!”

“A month ago, sir, I would’ve laughed her out the door,” she had to concede, shrugging her shoulders, “But after all that’s happened, I’m... I’m convinced she at least believes what she’s saying. I mean, you all saw how she reacted when I asked where Marcy and Sasha were. That kind of terror and anxiety, it’s a hard act to pull off convincingly.”

“Okay, so what? She’s suffering from delusions?” offered one of the investigators.

“Wouldn’t be the most illogical explanation,” the Chief concurred. “She’s obviously undergone a lot of trauma. She’ll need a psychiatric assessment at least.” This was met with murmurs of agreement from his subordinates.

“Right, except…”

Amanda thought carefully before pressing further. More than twenty years' worth of hard-earned credibility was likely on the line. It was considered controversial enough to be involved, let alone helping to lead this investigation concerning her own daughter’s disappearance. How was she gonna put this without her boss immediately putting on her indefinite leave?

“Back in Spendco, I got real up close and personal with all three of those... things she was with. Now, I’ve got plenty of officers who were there to back me up on this, sir. They ain’t people in costumes.”

“I was also there, sir— as well, if that helps,” chipped in Rick, who was promptly side-eyed back into silence.

The investigators shared awkward glances with each other while the Chief simply raised a brow and steepled his fingers.

“I see. Then pray tell, what do you believe they were?” He asked, sounding a touch wry. “Honest to goodness walking talking frogs?”

“I don’t know, but shouldn’t the fact X was so adamant in capturing them raise a few flags—”

“It’s the FBI, Commander, when have those people ever been about transparency? Look, the point of this joint operation was always about us apprehending the Boonchuys and getting to the bottom of where these girls have been. Now, as for whatever those things may or not have been, who the heck knows? But that’s the FBI’s problem now. Ours are the girls. Nothing more, nothing less. Are we all clear?”

He was meant by a chorus of “yes, sir,” even though Amanda’s was noticeably out of sync.

“Alright.” The Chief folded his arms with finality. “Send in the Wus.”

Amanda grimaced and wiping her brow of sweat, she disheartedly exited the room and made her way to the front room of the station, where rows of seats were situated for citizens waiting for an update on pending cases or to speak with an officer. Marcus and Grace Wu sat silently in the corner, with about three heavily armed LAPD officers standing by. 

“Alright, you two,” She walked up to the pair, glaring at Grace, “You’ve been invited to speak with the woman of the hour. Let’s go.”

The three officers encircled them like a flock of vultures. Marcus put his hand on his wife’s shoulder, who was still lost in the same thousand-yard stare since coming to. She said nothing and allowed her husband to help her to her feet until Amanda held out a hand in front of her.

“Hold it right there.”

She whipped out a heavy set of chains. 

---

Anne kept her eyes on her reflection, hands raised and interlocked behind her head, the sounds of metal dragging along the ground. From the mirror, she could see Amanda working the chains around something situated under the table. With a click, Amanda dusted her hands off and stepped back towards the wall.

“You’re good, Boonchuy.”

‘Lord, give me strength.’

She turned around and sat down, looking them square in the eye. Grace sneered back at her and presented her hands, the chains wrapped tightly and locked in place underneath the table.

“You’re very lucky I have these on,” she growled “Or else I’d wrap them around your neck--”

“Grace,” Marcus swiftly cut her off, “Shut your mouth, now.”

Something about the tone of his voice took the wind out of the woman’s sails. She rolled her jaw and slumped sullenly back in her chair like a child who’d just been chastised. Even Anne felt her back straighten out on instinct; give Marcus Wu credit, he knew how to lay down the law. There was a reason the girls didn’t mess around when they slept over at Marcy’s and her dad was home.

Satisfied Grace was sufficiently cowed, Amanda stepped forward and dropped Anne’s pink backpack on the table, some of its contents spilling out from its half-zipped top.

Marcus eyed the bric-a-brac, unimpressed. “And what the heck is all this?” he asked.

“Most of it is nothing,” sighed Anne before reaching into the bag, “Except for this.”

She pulled out a worn, brown journal. It had starfish and seashell stickers on it, which were peppered around sketch drawings of blue, purple, and green stars. Emblazoned on the front cover was the name of its true owner.

Color ran from Marcus’ face. “Is that…?” 

“Marcy’s journal,” Anne answered, to which Grace lunged forward to get a glimpse of her own. 

“Whe-where-where did you get this?!”

The venom in her voice returned to full boil. Having anticipated this, Anne briefly clamped her eyes shut before taking deep breaths and folding her near-trembling hands.

“She put it in my backpack, but that’s not the point.” she spoke coolly, only looking them in the eye again once she’d regained her composure “Look, before we go any further, can I just say something?” Taking their silence as tacit permission, she sighed, “I know you guys have never liked me or Sasha, okay? Marcy always told us you thought we were bad influences and that she needed better friends. And after today, you could probably care less for what I have to say, so here...”

Anne set the journal on the table and pushed it towards them.

“Everything you wanna know about Marcy and where she’s been, and still is, is in her journal. So read it for yourselves and make your own judgments. Read.”

Grace snatched the journal before Marcus could even reach for it. She stared down at the cover, caressing the stickers with her thumb. Her fingers traced the taped sticky note sporting her daughter’s tag, ‘Marcy Wuz Here!’ For the first time in half a year, she found herself holding, physically holding, a piece of her long-lost daughter. Grace’s entire foundations shook, and tears leaked down her cheeks. Marcus, his own tears staining his face, put his hand on Grace’s shoulder. Instead of violently shoving him away, this time, she leaned in for an embrace.

Of all the reactions she was expecting, Anne felt guilty to admit tears weren’t one of them.

Grace’s face stretched into a trembling smile as she poured over the pages of the first entry, where Marcy’s limitless exuberance made it clear that it was her writing. It had to be the first time Anne caught a glimpse of the loving, caring mother Grace made herself out to be. It was a little hard to see while she was trying to crush her trachea with her bare hands.

Marcus himself looked taken in by what he was reading. “There’s so much about flora and fauna,” He adjusted his glasses to make sure what he saw was real. “It’s like something out of a young adult fantasy series...”

‘Oh, Mr. Wu, you don’t know the half of it.’

“It’s definitely our Marcy.” 

Anne couldn’t see exactly what they were reading but knew it was classic Mar-Mar and her clumsy antics in Newtopia before they reunited outside the city gates. Marcy had always been a talented wordsmith; she’d read enough of her archives of anime fanfiction to prove that fact. 

Grace giggled softly into her hand and turned to the next page. 

...

Everything was going well - we followed a winding path to the cult’s hidden lair, blending in as best as we could with the other acolytes.

They were chanting and everything: it was SUPER scary.

...

Grace blanched, “Oh my!”

“My God. I hope she was alright,” Marcus said, looking at his wife worriedly. Her eyes peering down, Grace slowly turned to Anne, her lips trembling slightly.

“W-Was she?” 

Anne circled her finger, “Keep reading.”

And keep reading, they did. Their worried, suspenseful looks turned to relief, seemingly ending her conflict with Newtopia’s cult. Turning the next page, they were taken aback by what they saw until Marcus started chuckling. He turned the book around, displaying a rather flattering picture of Anne, arms extended, a bright smile, and surrounded by stars and hearts.

...

ANNE IS HERE! ANNE BOONCHUY! LIKE MY BEST FRIEND from back home - ANNE!

...

Anne’s insides twisted with heartache, her blood churning. The mere reminder of how Marcy held her in such high regard filled her with disgust, tempting her to reach forward and tear the page out of the book; for the sake of Marcy’s parents, Anne smiled and nodded. 

“Oh my,” Grace gasped again, “You and Sasha had a fight?”

She didn’t need further prompting to what she was talking about. “Yeah, she sorta… kinda… tried to kill the Plantars.”

“What, those… things from the market?” Marcus asked.

“They’re my family!”

Both parents shrunk back at her sudden outburst, Marcus holding his hands up, “Sorry, sorry! It’s just… I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry.”

Anne slumped back into her chair with an irate sigh, mentally chastising herself for her reaction. “They’re from the other world, the one I told you guys about in my letter,” she explained. “It’s what Marcy was writing about in her journal. I know it’s a lot to take in, but even if you don’t believe me, then believe her.”

Marcus didn’t know how to respond. He turned to his wife for some kind of cue but saw she was still far more engrossed in what she was reading. Something under Entry 61 appeared to have really caught her attention.

“This music box,” she said, turning the diary around and showing Anne a sketch of the Calamity Box. “Is this how you get to this...” Grace hesitated for a second. “Other world?”  

Anne nodded, “Marcy got it for me for my birthday. She told me she found it at that pawn shop, and she knew exactly what it would do.”

Satisfied, Grace directed her attention back to the book and continued to Entry 62. Chock full with more of Marcy’s innermost thoughts, her eyes lingered at the bottom of the page.

...

King Andrias found me outside the hotel and told me to follow him. We went back to his throne room--I STILL can’t get over how BIG it is--and he made me swear not to tell anyone what he was going to show me.

...

“What the…?” 

What Grace saw upon turning the page made her heart skip a beat. It was a hideous drawing of what could only be described as an eldritch beast. A bilious black blob peppered with thirteen orange eyes leaped off the page, burning holes in Grace’s soul. It was mesmerizing to stare at, like something straight out of the imagination of S.K. Dowling. 

...

Andrias showed me something from the textbook, the missing pages he’d ripped out and kept hidden from me. It was about the Wu’s. My ancestors. 

How they were great warriors, MIGHTY conquerors! They controlled everything and everyone! From monarchs to whole empires!

And at the center of it all was their greatest creation: the music box.

I knew it. I knew it all along! I was DESTINED to find the music box! I was DESTINED for Amphibia! To stay together with my FRIENDS! A life that was way better than the one I have now!

...

Marcus covered his mouth at reading that last sentence, “What? Why would she-- How could she--?”

“Honey,” Grace interrupted, pointing at the page, “There’s more here…”

...

Andrias’ master. 

I’ve never seen such a thing before in my life. I was so afraid.

But then it spoke to me, and my eyes were opened. It was BEAUTIFUL, HEAVENLY, DIVINE.

COMFORTING. REASSURING. IT BECKONED ME. CALLED TO ME. 

It wiped my tears away and took me in its spiritual glow. I never wanted to leave. Their eyes.

THEIR BEAUTIFUL ORANGE EYES! 

Andrias told me I could stay together with my friends as long as I could get him the box fully charged.

I’ll never be alone again. NEVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER.

...

Marcus and Grace could not believe their eyes or the words on the page. This was Marcy’s writing. Their Marcy and her words resembled that of the diaries of a madman. They noticed how the scribbling became a bit more sloppy as she talked about her confrontation with…whatever this thing was, they presumed it was the thing drawn to the side. They slowly looked up at Anne, who was staring despondently at the mirror.

“What. In God’s name. Was that?” 

Marcus’ tone pretty much summed up the entire mood, and Anne herself was already uneasy with the room's entire mood.

“She kept talking about how Andrias showed her ‘the truth,’” Anne explained, “How her family were these powerful people who controlled empires for thousands of years and how they were the first to visit Amphibia."

Marcus’ lips parted, fruitlessly looking for the words that could help to comprehend such a revelation. A stuttered puff of air escaped as he aimlessly ran a hand over his face, his glasses drooping to rest on the bridge of his nose.

He couldn’t claim to know that much of his family’s heritage. His father, who emigrated to California from Taiwan as an accountant, spoke little of their ancestral line, only an offhanded remark once or twice about how they were “people of influence.” Whatever that really meant, he never got a clear answer.

Never in a million years did he imagine it meant anything remotely like this. If any of it were true, how much did his father know, or his parents for that matter? It raised endless questions.

“There’s more, just so you know.”

A small sliver of their parental instincts cried out to them not to believe what Anne was saying. To slam this horrid book shut, throw it back in her face, and renounce them as disgusting lies by their daughter’s kidnapper. The ugliest part of Grace screamed at her to reach across the table and punch her across the face. What decent parent could believe such things about their pride and joy?

Maybe it was morbid curiosity or a sobering realization settling in, but Marcus found himself biting the bullet and turning the page.

...

She left me. Why did she leave me?

What do those FROGS have that I don’t? I’m here bestest friend Jo. I’ve known her for YEARS, AND THEY’VE KNOWN HER FOR THREE FROGGIN MONTHS

Anne and Sasha are fighting. NOTHING IS GOING AS I PLANNED IT. WHY?!

Andrias told me about what the Box can do. COUNTLESS ADVENTURES. ENDLESS JOY. NO MORE WAR. NO MORE FAMINE. NO MORE SUFFERING.

ANNE. SASHA. TOGETHER FOREVER AND EVER.

...

Grace shuddered as they read on. They had reached the part of the journal where it dealt with their journey to the First Temple.

...

I’m one step closer. I can’t believe this. 

Anne looked so excited when we charged the first gem. That radiance in her eyes, the way her smile brightened the room.

I WON’T LET THAT GO. I WON’T LET HER GO.

SHE’LL UNDERSTAND. THEY’LL BOTH UNDERSTAND.

OUR FRIENDSHIP WILL NEVER DIE. 

...

The entries devolved further into madness from there. Marcy described the villagers who lived in Wartwood, drawing intricately detailed pictures while seemingly graffitiing the portraits to make them look far less flattering. She went on long, angry tangents on how everyone thought they were better than her, how they seemed to suggest that they knew Anne better than Marcy did.

...

How dare these stupid frogs?! Treating me like some peon ! They know not who they talk to. They should kiss the ground I walk on. 

Lest they wish for me to spare their worthless lives!

...

“No…” Grace shook her head, hand over her mouth.

“This can’t be our Marcy; this is nothing like her!” Marcus looked to Anne, whose sullen, defeated eyes told them what words could not do justice.

The Wu’s flipped through more pages, and it only escalated further.

...

SASHA

SASHAAA

SASHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH

SHE’S HERE! SHE’S FINALLY HERE! SHE’S SO STRONG. SO COOL. HER GOLDEN HAIR. HER BEAUTIFUL EYES. 

Why is there tension with Anne and Sasha? What didn’t Anne tell me? Sasha should just let Anne vent. We can’t risk everything.

Not when our perfect future is close at hand. 

…

I had a dream last night. I was in a town, on a balcony overlooking the people.

Anne and Sasha were with me. They were smiling. So happy. Everyone cheered for us. They praised us. They worshiped us.

It was everything I ever dreamt of. I looked to the sky, and I saw them.

Those eyes. THOSE THIRTEEN BEAUTIFUL ORANGE EYES. THEY SPOKE TO ME. THEY COMFORTED ME. 

I BASKED IN THEIR GLOW. THEIR RADIANCE GAVE ME STRENGTH. I FELL TO MY KNEES. 

I CRIED I MARVELED I DIDN’T WANT TO LEAVE DONT WAKE ME UP FROM THIS DREAM I WANTED TO STAY PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

…

Marcus threw the journal down onto the cold, metal table. He held his hands before him, trembling, almost as if the book was set on fire and burned his skin. 

“What…” he spoke shakily, glaring at Anne, “What…"

The poor, beaten man couldn’t bring himself to finish his question, but it seemed as if Anne was ready for a reaction such as this. She leaned forward and grabbed the journal, sliding it back into her grasp.

“Yeah, that’s… pretty much how I first reacted too,” remarked Anne solemnly, setting the journal down in her lap, “I’m not… I don’t know what it was that Marcy saw in the castle basement, but whatever it was… it changed her.”

Marcus said nothing. He cupped both hands over his mouth and leaned over, propping his elbows on the table.

“I don’t know if this… thing she calls her ‘master’ brainwashed her, or it just made her worse, but all I know is that the Marcy we knew… it isn’t her anymore. Whatever’s still trapped in Amphibia is going to help Andrias do awful, terrible things unless I get back there.”

“And then what?”

All eyes turned on Grace, who had gone eerily quiet until now. Only this time, the rage and indignation in her eyes had been replaced by fear.

Anne blinked, “Huh?” 

“And then what are ya gonna do?” repeated Grace, her tongue cutting through like a dagger, “Are you going to try and bring her back? Are you going to try and fix her?”

For all the mental prepping she did over and over in her head while she lay in the holding cell, she had not considered that question coming up. All she could offer was to open her mouth as if to say something, anything, and awkwardly close it again

“ You’re going to kill her, aren’t you? ”

A gasp escaped Anne’s lips, loud enough for all three occupants in the room to hear. 

“I…” She searched for an answer, “I…”

No, of course not, never! That’s what she wanted to say. During the battle in the throne room, as blindingly angry as she was, at no point did she intend to kill Marcy. Even after she dropped Sprig out the window to certain death and turned blue, she knew she couldn’t bring herself to do something so unforgivable. Not to Marcy’s parents.

But was it the same circumstances now? If Marcy was now beyond the point of return, and the danger she posed to both their worlds was real and present, what recourse would she be left with?

Grace suddenly pounded both fists on the table, her chains rattling on the underside, “I knew it!” She shrieked. “This is all some kind of sick trick! I knew you people were sickos, but--OOOO, I can’t believe you’d actually go to these lengths!”

“Sit down, Grace,” ordered Amanda from across the room.

“NO!!  My baby would never do something so-- hideous! She’s good! She’s smart! She’s going to do such great t-things…”

The war being fought in Grace’s mind reached a point where she was falling apart at the seams. The tears overflowed the more she thought about her daughter, the one she desperately wanted to believe still existed. Her fists loosened up, and her hands flew to her eyes. Her chest heaved as she began sobbing hysterically. In an instant, Marcus embraced her, holding her tight to his chest, Grace wrapping her still-manacled hands around his neck. The steel chains scraped against the nape of his neck, but he didn’t care.

“Grace,” he whispered into her ear, carefully stroking her hair, “Please, honey…”

“NO!” she wailed, “I CAN’T! MARCY COULD NEVER DO THIS! M-m-my baby could never h-hurt someone! SHE’S AN ANGEL!!”

Anne couldn’t bring herself to look them in the eye any longer. In spite of everything that had happened today, her heart still ached for them both. They were now experiencing what she and Sasha went through in the throne room when they, too, truly saw Marcy for the first time. Gone was the sweet but clumsy little girl they needed to wrap in cotton wool and hold close and safe. Gone was the young prodigy who they believed was capable of great things. Somewhere along the way, a monster had taken her place. Now, there was nothing left but this horrible, murderous, treacherous thing that had stolen their daughter away and broken their hearts. Before, it was only for five months. Now, it was likely for good. 

Amanda stood off to the side all this time, watching the depressing scene play out, as was her and her team’s plan. Deciding to call time on this, she looked over her shoulder and motioned to the one-way window. The door buzzed, and in walked two uniformed officers who helped Grace out of her restraints and gently ushered both distraught Wus out of the room. 

Anne realized she’d been holding her breath only once the door slammed shut. She hurriedly performed the haiku technique as stale air flooded her lungs, digging her fingers into the journal's spine to help ground herself. 

That had only gone slightly less awful than she feared 

“You alright?” Feeling a comforting hand on her shoulder, she looked up at Amanda with misty eyes.

“No. No, I am really not alright,” Anne laughed, only to delay the inevitable deluge of tears. She bowed her head, hardly registering being taken into an embrace by the police commander.

It was definitely going against protocol to do this, and it would likely get her reprimanded, but Amanda knew this was what Anne needed. There was a time to be a cop and a time to be a mother. Knowing when was, which had been a major challenge, Rick had a point there. If she ever had the chance to see Sasha again, she’d do whatever it took to correct her mistakes and rebuild their relationship.

“Anne,” Amanda knelt down to her level, cupping her face, “Can I see the journal? I need to show this to my boss. He should know about all of this.“I need to run this by my boss. He should know about all of this.”

She sniffled, “Do you believe me then?”

“... you’ve shown a lot of guts here today. I was skeptical at first, but now... I think I do.”

“And your boss?” Anne hugged the journal close to her chest. “You think he’ll believe it?”

“It’s going to be hard to refute all of this, but...” She tapped her chin as she pondered an idea. “Your phone. Do you have any photos of-- Amphibia?”

The floodlights came on all at once in Anne’s head. She smacked her forehead. How could she have forgotten?!

“Y... yes, yes! I do! P-plenty!”

“Right,” Amanda nodded, “I’ll go get it, then you’re gonna find them for me, alright?” 

Anne stared down at the journal cover, at the stickers Marcy had decorated with, staring back at her. A reminder of the girl that her parents had lost, of the friend that she lost.

Of someone who she might have to put down for good.

With a heavy heart, she handed the journal over, “Then can I go see my parents? Please?”

“Alright.”

She really wanted…no, needed, to tell them how much she loved them.

---

“Jesus H...”

The Deputy Chief thumbed through the pages of the journal, revealing one horrific entry after another. Pages of words becoming increasingly erratic, scrawled sloppily and more resembling a child’s doodles than a kept-together teenager wise beyond her years.

The contents of the orange cat phone did little to ease his nerves either. Either these were some of the most advanced examples of CGI he’d ever seen, or he was looking at honest-to-goodness photos of anthropomorphic frog people standing side-by-side with the missing girls.

“I’ve seen some really messed up things in my thirty years in law enforcement, but this,” He stared off into space for a moment before asking, “Commander, what is this?”

Instead of answering directly, Amanda reached over to flip through the pages, landing on a certain one before pointing, “We’re in danger, sir. Not just L.A., all of us.”

...

The world will soon be mine ours Ive seen the glory of the cores vision a world without hunger or pain or suffering or war or racism or sexism

AN ENDLESS UTOPIA ETERNAL AND BEAUTIFUL PURE AND PERFECT I WANT IT I WANT IT WE WILL LEAD EARTH INTO A NEW ERA

...

The rest of the text of the page descended into mindless, garbled babbling that was indecipherable. The presence of legible text buried underneath this suggested the writer had suddenly gone off the deep end. 

Going pale, the Chief stumbled as he removed his reading glasses.

“So this means--”

“It means something is coming,” she declared with authority, “This ‘Andrias’ and ‘Core’? They seem dangerous enough to twist Marcy Wu into this… whatever it is that she’s become.”

The Chief closed the journal and paced the floor. He did this for two solid minutes before settling down in his chair at his desk. He leaned his head back and let out a long, exhausted sigh.

“What’s your next move?”

Amanda crossed her arms, “Here’s what I have in mind...”

---

The Boonchuy family huddled together in the tightest hug cocoon they could.. Mr. and Mrs. Boonchuy had yet to be taken for interrogation and were still waiting in their holding cell when their daughter returned, looking as if she had been through the wringer. She’d told them everything that transpired between herself, Amanda, and the Wu’s. Oum was initially furious, wanting to go after Amanda for subjecting her daughter to such an experience, until Anne reassured her that talking to the Wus was her own idea

Now it was out of their hands. All they were able to do now was hold onto each other for as long as they could and put their trust in Amanda being as good as her word.

BZZZZZZZZ!

Oum and Bee tensed up as the door creaked open, a sinking feeling in their gut that it was their turn to be questioned. However, instead of a regular officer, Amanda herself walked into the cell, shutting the door behind her and approaching the Boonchuyswith a steely resolve. 

“You really need to get back to that other world, don’t you, Anne?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the girl replied firmly.

“I’m not sure if I even know what the Hell is going on right now, but I went through the rest of that journal with my boss. We came across another entry from Marcy that detailed some sort ‘new world.’”

Anne gasped, “The invasion.”

“Ohhhh, I hate being right. Tell me about this.”

“The King of Amphibia,” she began, breaking away from her parents and standing up, “He talked about how his ancestors were conquerors and how he’s going to use the Calamity Box I stole to invade all other worlds for their resources. He’s basically a supervillain.”

Amanda ran a hand across her face, exhaling, “I swear, I’m living in the freaking Twilight Zone. And I’m assuming you need the bumpkin frog family?”

“The same ones you handed over to the FBI.”

She shrunk back before she rolled her shoulders, feeling the glare of the girl’s parents hovering over her, “I deserved that. Fair enough.”

“So,” Anne crossed her arms, “What do you suggest we do?”

For the first time all day, Amanda smiled.

“Here’s the plan…”

Notes:

And cliffhanger!

It seems like the FBI and the LAPD are about to face off against one another, with the Plantars, as well as the way to get back to Amphibia, hanging in the balance. What is going to happen? Hopefully, it won't take too long to find out.

As always, reviews and constructive criticism are welcome! I'll see you all in the next chapter!

This is TheAllTimeGreatest signing off!