◆̶̛̞͈̮̫͈̲̲̯̠͎͍̫̳̖̋̓̆͐̈̈̚͘͜͝͝ ̶̩̾̅̓̿̈́̕◆̵̝̩̤̥̲̝͎̦͇͉̳͓̈́̔͜ ̸͎͓̺̜̈́̓̇͜͝͝ͅ◆̴̼͔͇̖͉͈̝͉̾͒͐͒̉̑̇̄̊͋̿̚͠

Of the three sources who'd told her how the world had come to ruin, none had truly given Octavia an explanation of the full process. She'd never learned how long it took. She'd never learned exactly what it had taken to dispel such agony, after its initial onslaught. She'd never learned exactly what had happened on the opposite side of the boundary that day, when a world so high above came to ruin of its own accord. There was no set endpoint, nowhere Octavia knew to expect Mixoly's suffering and rampaging sorrow to come to a halt. Had it not, she wouldn't have been here. Ramulus had said as much. It had to end eventually.

Please!

Please!

Please!

Octavia tried to be optimistic. It was dangerous to explicitly anticipate the glass, let alone the fractures and fragile damages that would quickly follow. She feared she'd manifest it, should she try. She held whatever breaths she had down here.

Save me!

She wondered how long Theo had known.

Please!

For what Mixoly had wrought upon his beloved brother, Octavia wondered how he could protect the Muse with all of his heart.

Help me!

For the curse of her poisoned agony, seeping and oozing into every ray of her once-splendid light, she wondered how he could love Mixoly at all.

Please, help me!

She wondered if she would've been able to do the same.

Please!

He would've made for an incredible Ambassador.

Please!

For all Theo had sacrificed on her behalf, it was the least Mixoly could do to let him keep the world he called home.

Please!

It wasn't that Octavia didn't deserve to avoid Mixoly's agony twice over. It wasn't that Viola, nor Madrigal, nor Harper, nor Renato, nor Josiah weren't worthy of survival.

Please!

If Mixoly owed any heart in the world she claimed to detest, it was the one who'd given her all of his.

Help me!

Help me!

Help me!

And with every plea she captured, with every desperate cry and sorrowful wail that Mixoly beat her down with in that blazing black hole, Octavia swore to make her repay the debt.

Save me.

For the absolutely infernal burst of light that cut through the violet world, Octavia at first thought she'd shattered to pieces once more. Part of her, in the split seconds of suspended radiance that followed, awaited Theo's touch and the grueling onslaught of lucidity once more. She waited for her head to throb, for her body to ache, for her eyes to burn.

Instead, where the sun itself settled into her eyes in an instant, it burned out just as quickly. It was absolutely blinding in the most literal sense, by which Octavia briefly believed she'd never see straight again--even with eyes that weren't her own to damage. For the utter darkness that followed, her vision swallowed whole by true blackness rather than agonizing violet, she thought she'd lost it altogether. Given the exception that Mixoly was, Octavia wondered if she'd died--at least briefly. If this toll was capable of hurting her, there were no limits she forced herself to entertain.

Save me.

In the dark, cold and enveloping on every side, Mixoly's pleas were fainter.

Help me.

They were weaker.

Please.

They were broken in every way.

Are you…calling me?

And where she'd expected to find Lucian, she was completely and utterly incorrect.

Given what eyes she suddenly wore, far from Mixoly's own, Octavia was initially perplexed. They were different hands, different skin, a different voice with a different tone. They were far from the Heartful boy she'd grown so, so near to over the course of his own lifetime again and again--ignorant to her existence as he would forever be.

Help me.

She knew the veil that plagued her eyes again, if nothing else. She knew the screeching that accompanied close behind.

Stop it, please! Make it stop!

I cannot. Find the Ambassador, I beg of you, and it will cease.

Never had Octavia switched strangers halfway through a toll. Still, Mixoly offered no normal toll to her cursed eyes. She should've known better. This stranger suffered in every way, coping perhaps even more poorly than Lucian. What love and tolerance the Heartful boy had at least attempted to spare for the forsaken Muse was infinite by comparison to the one who fled from her instead. There was nothing to be done, and where Mixoly's blight had been granted, her stain was permanent. Even freed from Lucian's eyes, Octavia suffered. It was surely nothing compared to those who'd lived it in full.

For all of the instances in which she'd shouldered Lucian's suffering by proxy, it hadn't been enough to lead her to actual death--unintentional or otherwise. The degree to which such pain would warrant a reaction so severe was unfathomable. With a sob and a faithless leap, tumbling far into what unseen fate lie beneath the steepest of cliffsides, Octavia found the first end that wasn't enough to bring her back up.

What are you?

I need you.

Instead, it brought her another victim. It brought her more eyes, equally soaked in shadow, and more sounds, equally bathed in misery.

Stop doing this to me!

It is not intentional. I apologize, I truly do.

Why do you hate me like this?

I do not.

Get away from me! Get out of my head!

Please, my child, it is my greatest wish that you would not suffer. Know this to be the truth.

Then make it stop!

You must find the Ambassador.

For her, death wasn't artificial, nor provoked. What stress was endured, seemingly, crawled into her soul and suffocated her in her sleep. It wasn't much less upsetting.

It was a cycle.

Are you…talking to me?

Help me, I beg of you.

There came eyes unfamiliar, neither Lucian's nor Mixoly's.

You're awful! What's wrong with you? This is sick! Just stop it already!

Find the Ambassador. It is the only way to spare us both.

There came pleas on both ends, tinted with two flavors of agony, and the tragic end steeped in suffering that would follow. Sometimes, it was natural. The vast majority of the time, it was premature. It was prompted, desperate.

It took Octavia longer than it should've to recall Mixoly's warning of Stratos' sight, by which the world she witnessed was stolen through touch alone. For how many flashes and fragments Octavia cycled through, gaze after gaze and heart after heart, never had she imagined one Muse to have so many partners. Logically, she knew they'd collectively been bound to the world below for several hundred years. Octavia had never really stopped to consider the sheer number of hands that had rested atop every key and lips that had breathed radiance into every note. Even given the scarcity of the Heartful candidates she so viciously begged for, Mixoly's contagious agony wore them down and snuffed out their lights one after another.

Please!

Please!

Please!

And sometimes, the begging wasn't from Mixoly alone. It was horrific. It was endless.

It circled. For the hundreds of years it certainly took, Octavia's heart nearly stopped once it happened.

Were you…calling me?

Those eyes, she knew.

And you heard my voice, then?

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Burning with violet or otherwise, she'd worn them thousands of times.

What are you?

Octavia had torn them apart.

I am one who destroys what is precious.

And so, too, had she stitched them back together.

But you're so small.

Where once they were tangled and inseparable, she'd shredded them to pieces and rebuilt the puzzle bit by bit.

It was not always such.

For all it had taken, it finally made sense. Octavia had her timeline. For better or worse, she had Mixoly's heart.

My name's Lucian.

And she stole the Heartful boy's, through his own eyes alone, right up until the bitter end.

Leave me alone!

Lucian, please.

Get out of my head! Stop! I'm begging you, I'll do anything!

My child, I--

Mixoly, please! Please make it stop! I can't do it! I can't!

Luci--

Please! Please, I'll do whatever you want, just stop hurting me like this!

I am not trying to wound you, my child. You know this. The only way is to fi--

Kill me! Just kill me!

Lucian, listen to me.

Where once some nights had barred him from sleep, fitful or otherwise, it was all nights. Where once some days had banned him from food, indigestible and undesirable as it was, it was all days. His tears fell so frequently that his body often ran dry, his entire frame permanently weak and racked eternally with shaking sobs. His sorrow made it worse, for how blurred his murky vision had truly become.

Only in the dark, once more, was he granted reprieve, and even that couldn't spare him from the sounds that shattered his eardrums. They were utterly intolerable. Octavia had found her hated bells to be ruinous, painfully loud and unable to be hushed. Their volume paled in comparison to what noise dove so deep into Lucian's very soul, cracking it from within.

Theo tried. It was everything he could do just to keep the Heartful boy safe from harm, for how often he lashed out at himself and himself alone. The false calm on his little face, offered up only for Lucian's sake, was more than lost in the sea of violet that swallowed it whole. If Octavia could see clearly, she wondered what she'd find in Theo's eyes.

It was a night not unlike that which he'd met Mixoly that Lucian sprinted into at last, screams stifled in place of gasping breaths and desperate clutching at his ears. For how relatively recently he'd moved to Mezzoria, he'd learned Selbright well. He'd learned enough to navigate with little effort, to retrace his steps where he'd once wandered with greater hesitation and uncertainty.

For what Octavia had seen him endure, so long before Mixoly had entered his fragile life, she was proud of him. Even now, she wanted nothing more than to push past the barrier that barred the Ambassador from those who'd paid the toll, to catch him in her arms and offer him the world anew. Theo deserved him. He deserved himself.

Stop! Please, please, please, just stop! Stop it! Get out!

Lucian deserved anything but this.

Get out of my head!

He deserved anything but his own chosen reprieve, effective and well-selected.

Leave me alone!

The way the means that had offered the Heartful boy a second chance at life sought to steal it away instead broke Octavia in half.

Stop it!

For all of her poor experiences with trains, Octavia had never faced one head-on.

Please!

And alone on the tracks, in the dead of night, she wondered if he'd even been afraid.

Stop!

It wasn't rain that struck him down long prior, nor the mortal world at large. Ultimately, his beautiful radiance be damned, it was Mixoly who brought Lucian's world to ruin.

◆ ◆ ◆

Octavia didn't realize she'd come up, initially. Only the trembling against her body served as any indicator of her lucidity once more. She first believed it to be her own, utterly fatigued and borderline unconscious as she was. Instead, the pressure and warmth that she slowly came to recognize wrapped around her filled in the blanks and kept her upright.

For as small as he was compared to her, supporting her full body weight was surely a task for Theo. Nonetheless, fueled by resolve alone, he served as the sole reason she hadn't collapsed in full. Octavia desperately wished she had the physical strength to lessen his burden. As it was, it was all she could do to simply speak.

"I…I saw it. I saw…all of it," she whispered.

She couldn't find Mixoly, not for how her eyes still fought to adjust to the true world once more. Octavia drank in what she could hear with the ears that still rang relentlessly.

"Ambassador, I…you have borne witness to the toll?"

"I saw everything," Octavia said again, somewhat stronger. "I saw what you…went through. I saw…Lucian."

There was almost pride to be found in the way she'd left Mixoly nearly speechless. "I…"

She wondered if it seeped into her voice. Octavia couldn't fight the tiniest smirk that bled onto her tired lips. "I…told you not to…give up on me."

Given how Theo trembled around her more viciously, his body lurching as he struggled to maintain his balance on his knees, her obligation to contribute felt somewhat urgent. With what she had left to spare, she battled her way forward, leaning into him in full and sparing him from collapsing himself. His breaths, too, were just as labored.

He tilted his head, his shoulders slightly heaving. Octavia smiled as best as she could, weak and faint. It was better than nothing, and she gave him a nod to go with it.

And when the corners of Theo's mouth turned upwards, miniscule and fleeting as could be, Octavia's heart could've exploded. It was all she needed to be strong. It was worth it, for as long as it had taken.

It was all she needed to boast of his love, plain for all to see.

"You know he loves you, right?"

"I…what do you mean, Ambassador?"

Octavia staggered as she pushed herself to her feet, nearly falling in the process. Theo threw himself around her arm, pulling harshly, and it was an aid surprisingly more effective than she'd expected. She did what she could to compose herself, wiping the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand.

"He did all of this for you. He helped me for your sake. He stayed alone like this for you. He attacked me to protect you, Mixoly."

For how he served as the reference for her words, Theo was content to offer his attention to Mixoly alone. His eyes were as soft as his hold around Miracle Agony, shimmering beneath the stray moonbeams it captured in the deepening night. Octavia didn't even want to imagine how long she'd been here. It didn't matter anymore.

Mixoly was small, her voice equally so. "I…"

"You did what you did to Lucian, and Theo still did all of this for you," Octavia pushed. "You cursed his sight, and he still did all of this for you. I saw every Maestro you've ever had, and I saw how every single one ended up. There's never been a single person in the world that's gone as far for you as Theo has."

"I-I…" Mixoly stammered.

"I," Octavia began firmly, "in all my time as the Ambassador, have never seen a single Maestro go this far for their partner. You have no idea what you have. You have no idea how lucky you are."

Mixoly wrapped her arms around herself tightly. She was pitiful. Octavia did pity her.

"I saw the world the way you saw it. I know it's not perfect. It's not the same world anymore, yeah, and it's not as bad as the one you ruined, but I won't deny that our world definitely has things wrong with it. Still, if you can find even a single thing in this world that makes you happy, that should be enough for you. Not everything has to be beautiful. Just…some things are enough."

Octavia paused, inhaling deeply. "Even just one beautiful thing in this world is enough."

For as speechless as Mixoly again was, Octavia didn't give her the chance to enjoy her silence. When she turned to Theo, her eyes flickering to Miracle Agony, he nodded. It was almost hesitant. She didn't miss it.

She spoke largely without looking, her heart speeding dangerously along as she stared at the little instrument in his equally-little hands. "I'll make you a deal. If we do this, and you find out that you can't cross the boundary after all, then…if you can't think of a single thing in this world worth saving, go ahead and bring it to ruin again. I can't stop you. No one can."

"Ambassador," Mixoly murmured.

"But."

Mixoly fell silent.

Octavia's voice was as sharp as she could will it to be, and she hoped Mixoly felt the razors on her tongue. "If you think of even one thing, no matter how small, that's worth protecting this world for, then you have to give it a chance."

On Octavia's behalf, it was Theo who stared his partner down instead.

"I'm sorry for what this world did to you, Mixoly. You didn't deserve it," Octavia apologized. "Even so, I know you loved it once. I know you can love it again, even just a little bit."

"Ambassador, to lose that which is so pure is a grief to which words will do no justice," Mixoly argued. "To surrender perfection, wonderful in every way, surrounded by those so beloved, is the most impossible agony! To…to lose the trust and affections of all who one has thrived alongside for eternity, it is a pain unlike any! For a sin to turn all who would--"

Her words were cut short by her own tongue alone. Octavia watched her with confusion. For the way her faceless gaze instantly snapped to Theo's, she had a vague idea of the circumstances.

"What?" the Muse breathed.

Theo was silent, his hands and body alike utterly still.

"I…"

Only his eyes, burning and soft all at once, spoke on his behalf.

"I could not!"

Theo nodded exactly twice.

"My child, I could not!" Mixoly repeated desperately.

With Miracle Agony grasped tenderly in one hand alone, it was with slow and careful movements that Theo raised one pointed finger to Mixoly. When he drew it back to himself in turn, it trailed next firmly to the floor below. Never once did his eyes leave her.

"I-I could…not," Mixoly mumbled, her voice small and weak.

Whatever he signed to her with one hand alone, his motions far slower than she knew him to be capable of, was enough to lodge a waver in her voice.

"Theo," she nearly whispered, simple and soft.

His eyes flickered back and forth between the Muse and Octavia. It was Mixoly who nodded, for once, shaky as every word that left her continued to be.

"I-I will…endeavor."

Octavia watched as Theo carefully balanced the little piccolo atop his forearms, motioning for her slowly. His face was just as soft as that which he offered his partner, and she held her breath.

"'Thank you,'" Mixoly aided.

Octavia blinked. It took a moment for her to shake her head with a smile. "I didn't do much. You're the one who did everything for her."

He signed further. Again did Mixoly fill the gaps. "'Thank you for loving her, too.'"

Octavia beamed.

Mixoly didn't need to interpret the motion for "Ambassador." Octavia knew it well. She appreciated it regardless, and she adored the gentleness with which Theo made the gesture. "'Thank you for being her Ambassador.'"

"Thank you for letting me," she answered.

When his hands fell silent, Octavia nudged him slightly. "Are you…ready?"

He nodded.

She tensed. "Are you nervous?"

Smart as he was, Octavia was well aware he feared nothing of the process itself. Her words and their subsequent meaning were clear. Even so, Theo shook his head, his motions soft. "'I trust her.'"

Mixoly flinched under his gaze, even delicate as it was. Each time Octavia had ever seen Theo raise Miracle Agony to his lips, it had been in the context of violence--defensive or otherwise. Now, in place of threats, he graced the Muse's vessel with one tender kiss alone, his lips brushing against every sparkle the instrument captured. Octavia's heart felt as light as could be, for the way he hardly looked away from Mixoly all along.

And for as quiet as Mixoly was, there was no room left to chide her--nor threaten her, nor persuade her, nor beg her. If the world was to come to ruin, Octavia had done all that she could. With Miracle Agony offered to her so sweetly and serenely, Theo's palms upturned before her one last time, the words she needed most were preceded only by a smile and a farewell.

"No matter what happens," Octavia said gently, "thank you for everything. Thank you for protecting me. No matter what anyone tells you, you were a miracle to me."

"Farewell, Ambassador," Mixoly whispered. It was better than nothing. "Please, please be safe."

Octavia nodded. What was left came with equal parts calm and fear, a cold dread assuaged only by a glow she stole from before her even now. Where her blood threatened to freeze over, the warmth in Theo's eyes was enough to keep her alive. For all the trust she'd gambled, whether gained or lost in the process, it was now up to fate alone. If Octavia had her doubts, then she would trust the heart that trusted Mixoly's instead.

"I have borne witness to your pain, and my light guides your passage from the depths of my heart."

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