[b]Lucien![/b]

"Yes, well," the Professor says, gazing with reverent eyes upon the battle between mouse and fox going on right before his eyes. "The House of Mirrors here is a repository of nexii ocularum, a convergence of possibilities. It's a very dangerous thing, and it's only by the will of the Carnival itself that the clowns, that is to say, my brothers in arms, they tolerate it, because they revere the Carnival as the guardian of the Grail. Now, having two Jackdaws running around is dangerous, even here, in the depths of the Heart, though from what I've been able to glean, it's less because of the ironclad laws of time-- which, here, are much more permeable-- but because it draws the attention of the Angels, who will do their best to resolve the situation according to their impossible whims; perhaps they will favor this iteration of the dear fox because she is more closely attuned to the Heart, but contrariwise they might favor the one we have been traveling with--"

And [i][b]regret[/b][/i] floods through the tent. You keep your head above it: you've already faced all of these, you've wined and dined and drowned your regrets. There's nothing left for these nasty whispers to hook into, not for you; but the Professor is another matter entirely. Quite suddenly, he bursts into ugly tears, smearing the greasepaint on his face.

"What am I [i]doing[/i], boy? Immortality, here, as some capering imp without any interest in the pursuits of the mind? The mind is not some ship made of planks; I am my memories and my legacy and when I drink that red, red sacrament, it will drown them both until there is nothing left but another [i]clown![/i] All because I could not stand the reaper standing at my shoulder, waiting to call me to my rest!" He takes your lapels in his trembling hands. "Don't let me-- don't let them-- I won't do it! I won't take the Grail!"

A terrible cacophony of honks sounds from outside the tent, and the Professor's face twists into a rictus of ridiculous horror. "They... they'll know... they won't let me go... not after I'm so close..."

***

[b]Ailee![/b]

Sobbing, furious, Surma the Bookhunter is there at your side, using her legs; she plants her hand on your shoulder and rears up into a kick, and knocks Evil Jackdaw right out of the tent. But you won't stop with that, will you? You can't. You have to keep going; you have to put her in the [i]ground[/i]. That's the [i]point[/i] of the sacrifices you have made.

You lunge outside and come to the conclusion that you have made a mistake. Sure, you bowl over Evil Jackdaw into the mud, hands around her throat like it's the mallet for the test of strength, and-- be honest-- is this fun? Is [i]this[/i] fun? Or is it just more misery to be a part of?

Anyway, the wind nearly bowls you over, the rain is punching your back, and there is an entire fucking [i]convocation[/i] of clowns arrayed around the tent. Evil Jackdaw writhes underneath you like a snake, and the Bookhunter's still there, but her words are ripped away by the storm.

***

[b]Coleman![/b]

Several things happen all at once. Jackdaw and Wolf are swallowed by the floor, which hardens into a cyst all around them. The Blemmyae lunges for you, and gets his huge hands around your throat. Black Coleman pulls the trigger, and the Blemmyae makes one more transformation from a fury straight from the depths of the pit, about to snap your neck like a twig, into something soft and wet and heavy. When Black Coleman hauls the Blemmyae off you, he kicks him to one side and lets the Blemmyae curl up whimpering into the mortal wound.

"No shit," Black Coleman murmurs as he spins the chamber of his pistol. "Tell me something I [i]don't[/i] know. I finally run into you, and we're still too late; Wormwood's still gone. Maybe it won't let itself be fixed as a last bit of [i]bad luck[/i]." He fixes you with an exhausted eye, even as a Very Angry Clown approaches to have a word with him about violence! in! the! aquarium!

"What happens? Lucien and the Professor get [i]clowned[/i]. Ailee burns herself out to kill King Dragon. Jackdaw goes down past the First Station even after we ask her not to go, and that's the last time we see her. And Sasha hatches into hell, so you go on some damn fool quest trying to travel back to before Wormwood Station was destroyed, just in case it's still connected to the Heart, because nothing's [i]impossible[/i] down here. Now give me a hand with this clown."

The breath of the Blemmyae is ragged. Jackdaw could save him, but... well, on the one hand, Jackdaw's just been swallowed up by the Heart, and on the other hand, he [i]was[/i] just trying to kill you. Is there any mercy left in you, Coleman?

***

[b]Jackdaw![/b]

The Heart swallows you up.

No, something else swallows you up.

You've been [i]vored[/i]. By an Angel.

Wolf digs her claws into you in sudden panic, and then... slowly, she relaxes her painful grip, as nothing violently contracts or tries to kill you. It's dark, and wet, and warm, and... still. Like being held carefully in something's mouth.

The Heart itself has put you in time out. Probably? Definitely. Almost certainly. And it's dark, but the walls all around give off just enough light to see the silhouette of Wolf, and she's not very talkative, so it's completely up to you to fill the silence.

In fact, one might suggest that you almost feel [i]compelled[/i] to speak; as if some vast spotlight had been dropped on the two of you, as if you were on a stage being listened to by an audience, as if you have lines that you're supposed to speak. As if your heart wants to be flushed clean.