Y/n was still somewhat certain she wasn't alive. At this point, she assumed herself to be trapped in some kind of messed up purgatory, because why else would her dead mother be here with her?

M/n had been very clear in telling her daughter that she was, in fact, not dead. She said that she was willing to explain everything to her, provided she first got changed into the clothes she had left out for her on the dresser. 

Y/n still had so much she wanted to say, but she couldn't bring herself to utter a single word.
Not that it would have mattered, because as soon as she was finished speaking, M/n swiftly closed the door behind her and shuffled back down the hall to god knows where. 

Absentmindedly, Y/n heaved herself out of bed. Viewing herself in a nearby mirror, she mentally confirmed the lack of a bullet in her head.
Still, she rubbed around the pounding spot on her forehead, just to be sure.  

She also noticed that she wasn't dressed as V/n anymore. Instead, she donned a pale cottony nightgown that felt a few sizes too small on her [petite/bulky] frame. "Weird,"  She thought. "Where's my V/n costume? Did it disappear after I. . ?"  

Deciding not to think about it too much, Y/n changed out of the tight cloth, then reached for the clothes that rested upon the dresser.
They were sloppily folded and slightly crumpled, as though pulled together at the last moment. She slipped on the casual f/c t-shirt and the pair of black leggings that laid there, then turned to exit the room.

Cautiously, she stepped into the hall. Staging a glance back at the bedroom, she softly clicked the door shut behind her. "Oh, you look lovely honey." Y/n glanced to her side, seeing her mother standing there at the end of the hallway. She held her thin hands firmly in one another, giving a sweet smile that made Y/n's heart ache with bitter nostalgia. 

"I remember that f/c was your favorite color, it always looked so adorable on you." She whispered softly. "Do you remember that lacy dress I bought that you scribbled all over in f/c crayon when you were younger?"

Y/n didn't respond. M/n coughed.

Shaking it off, the older woman gestured for Y/n to approach. Once together, Y/n followed her mother into a cozy looking living room, both seating themselves down in two nearby armchairs. M/n quickly ducked into an adjacent kitchen, coming back out moments later with two steaming cups of cocoa. 

"You used to love this brand when you were younger," She smiled, handing Y/n a floral-patterned mug. Y/n took it up in her hands, sniffing it. To her, it reminded her of the minty scent of childhood winters, back in the simpler times when she and Cassandra were busy building elaborate snow sculptures in their backyard instead of doing their math homework.    

Y/n set the mug down, eyeing her mother steadily. For someone who had led her kids to believe she was dead for nearly a decade, she sure did seem to remember a lot about how said children were raised. And M/n had the nerve to think she could be chummy with the daughter she abandoned! Y/n wanted nothing to do with her mother, now that she knew that she had been alive this entire time. 

Every hardship that she and her sister had been through, every battle wound, every traumatic nightmare. . .

It all stemmed from that night in the car.

That night where she had held her mother's hand, wanting nothing more than her comfort, only for her to leave her forever. 

Forever until now.

"I grieved for you, you know." Y/n said quietly. "Both you and dad. Cassandra kept telling me that you abandoned us to fend for ourselves, that you didn't love us anymore and didn't deserve my mourning. Then, I started having these terrifying nightmares about that night in the car, and they won't go away! None of them will!" 

She pressed her hands to her head and firmly shut her eyes.   She didn't look up, but she was still able to see her mother's eyes brimming with guilt.

 "Honey, I know what we did hurt you. There is never a day that passes without me regretting that night, and I will always resent myself for ever leaving. But you have to understand, your father and I had to go. They would have killed us otherwise."

Y/n opened her eyes. "Who?" She asked. M/n's eyes darted around the room, as though she was making sure no one was listening in. "The Church that worships a false lord," She whispered. "A vengeful, evil creature who detests all life." 

 She looked up at her daughter and inhaled, as though years of practicing and reciting would finally be put to use.

"Y/n, I know this will be shocking to you, but I was once a member-"

"A member of that cult you warned me to stay away from? Yeah, I already know all about that. They're kind of the reason I died."

M/n sat upright, panicked. "They found you?! But the reason we left was because we thought that would throw them off your trail! If we were out of the picture, we thought they wouldn't be able to find you and use you in the ritual- oh my god the ritual."     

She suddenly grabbed Y/n by her shoulders, eyes bearing into hers with a mix of intensity and terror.  "Y/n. . . they didn't invoke their god as they killed you, did they?! Give me every single detail. This is very important." 

Y/n shoved her mother away and glared at her. "They shot me in the head by accident, but that's not what we're here to talk about!" She spat, almost on the edge of shouting. "I need to know why I'm here and why I'm still alive! You said you would explain it!"

M/n flinched at the anger in her voice. Clearly, this was not the sweet, caring little girl she had raised.

A lifetime of villainy had hardened Y/n's once soft heart, though there was still a hint of empathy left. Not that she deemed M/n worthy of it. M/n was worth nothing, except for the information she had been withholding from her for so long. 

That information was the key to unlocking the truth, it was the answer to all of the burning questions that had scorched her for her entire life.

It was what kept her there in that armchair, what kept her gripping the mug of cocoa, what kept her from bolting out of the front door and working her way back to South Park.

"Alright," M/n huffed. "You want to know you lived after you died? Fine. I'll tell you." Y/n sat up straight in anticipation. She stared at her mother intensively as she sucked in a breath. "Y/n, you have a rather. . . unique condition. It is unique to you alone, and it allows your life to persist after death through a process of rebirth. You come out a baby, and over the span of a couple of hours, your body rapidly re-grows to match that of your physical form before death." She paused for emphasis.

 "To put it simply. . . Y/n, you're incapable of dying."

"So that's what they meant by Deathless. . ." Y/n exclaimed. "Yes, the term 'Deathless' is what the phenomenon is most commonly referred to." Her mother spoke as if she was a doctor addressing a patient. Though, unlike a doctor, she wasn't making much sense to Y/n.

"But I don't get it. . . How did I become Deathless? Is Cassandra Deathless too? And how do you even know all of this?!"As the questions fell from her mouth, a horrifying thought crossed her mind.

"Oh god, am I ever going to die?"

Out of all the superpowers she ever could've attained, Y/n never wanted immortality. To slowly watch everyone you ever knew and love grow grey and feeble while you stayed young forever felt so terrifyingly lonely, and to watch them all die off one by one sounded even worse.

She'd have to come to terms with the fact that everyone she loved will inevitably die without her, and that secluding herself from the world was the only way to save herself from immortality's maddening consequence.

Y/n couldn't live like that, she couldn't.

"Y/n, calm down." M/n said. Seeing her stoic expression didn't do much to settle Y/n's nerves. 

"CALM DOWN?!" She shrieked, on the edge of a breakdown. "I GOT SHOT IN THE HEAD, FOUND OUT MY DEAD MOTHER IS ALIVE AND GOT TOLD I WAS INCAPABLE OF DEATH IN THE SPAN OF, LIKE, 15 MINUTES! HOW CAN YOU EXPECT ME TO BE CALM RIGHT NOW?!"

"BECAUSE YOUR LOVED ONES ARE IN DANGER AND YOU ARE THEIR ONLY CHANCE OF SURVIVING THE CULT!" M/n shouted. Y/n quieted down. For a moment, her face was red and contorted in an expression of outrage. Then, she relaxed her cheekbones and gave a shaky breath. 

"Y/n, If the cult is still where you and Cassandra are living right now, then that puts her- and everyone else in that town, really- in incredible danger. They'll kidnap, torture, kill- those monsters are willing to do anything to get what they want." 

Y/n thought back to all those missing people posters. The school on fire. Scouring the ruins of the school for the blue folders, and being met with the red-robed man with the sickeningly sick grin. . . all byproducts of the cult that had been plaguing her life from the very beginning, before she even knew who they were.

"You've got to go and get Cassandra out of there before they hurt her too," M/n resumed. "I'm not entirely sure if she's immortal like you, but we can't be too careful. Go, bring her here, and then we can all go somewhere far far away- somewhere where they can't find us." 

A look of desperate hope flashed across her face. "We- we could all be a family again, Y/n. You, me, your sister and father- it could be just like before, as if we were never separated-"

"Is that what you really want?! To pretend like that never happened and divert blame from yourself?!" Y/n cut in. 

"You say leaving us was to keep us safe from the cult. . . You said it was your only option, but it wasn't. You chose to leave us. If you really wanted us safe, then you wouldn't have left at all, you would've stayed!" She felt her throat tighten as she talked. 

"Do you have any idea how hard it was to put food on the table after we left the first foster home? We spent countless nights sleeping on park benches, pick-pocketing randoms for enough money to buy the bare essentials!" 

M/n shuddered in horror. She never wanted to subdue her children to a life of crime, she only wanted them to live without the looming threat of death the cult would have brought upon them had they been discovered.

"We started stealing and robbing our way to a bearable life, but we're constantly on the run and always on the edge of getting caught! We became wanted criminals, Mom! And it's all because you abandoned us!" 

M/n's lip quivered. She couldn't take it anymore. Without warning, all the shame and guilt that had been building up over the years poured out of eyes like waterfalls. As she tried in vain to wipe her tears and silence her sobbing, Y/n was taken aback by the onrush of remorse from her mother.

"Was I too harsh?" She worried. Seeing M/n in such a vulnerable state made her almost feel sorry about her word choice. "Almost," She thought bitterly. She looked upon her mother, narrowed her eyes, and gave a sigh of defeat. 

"Mom, listen." M/n looked up, face wet and eyes red. "I have to get back to South Park. That's where Cassandra and I are living right now, and I need to go help her- I need to go help everyone." M/n gasped. 

"South Park? That's the name of a town just 30 minutes east from here! I used to do business there," She exclaimed. "I'll drive you!" Y/n scowled. "Mom, I don't need you to-"

But M/n had already grabbed her set of car keys and was halfway through the front door. Turning around, she smiled at her somewhat sheepishly through her tears.

"Come on sweetie, let's go save your sister."

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Cassandra didn't utter a single word to the silent room of heroes that stared at her through the doorway.
She didn't make any attempt to move into their base.
Instead, she stared at them. Dull, lifeless eyes sized up the room quietly as she learned their faces.
The faces of the ones who forsook her sister's life.

Call Girl gently tugged her over towards the medical station.
Cassandra would have protested against her, struggled, resisted. . . if she had any reasons left to.

Her sister was gone. She had no one else to fight for, there was no one else. Y/n was everything to her, and now that she was dead, Cassandra didn't see the point of fighting back. 

So she sat and stared off into nowhere while someone she didn't care to learn the name of picked debris out of her flesh wounds and bandaged her arms and legs.

After that, she excused herself to another room: A dark, lightless closet absent of the bewildered stares and hushed whispers of the Freedom Pals. She didn't know if they were judging her or sympathizing with her, but she didn't care to investigate. 

She just needed quiet.

She just needed silence.

. . .She just needed her sister back.

Slumping against the closed door, she allowed her head to fall into her hands.

She wanted to scream and shriek and claw and thrash at everything in sight, but all she could bring herself to do was cry over the sister she would never see again.

Loud, vulgar sobs hiccupped from her mouth, her entire body going numb from the shock of grief.

"WHY DID SHE DIE FOR HIM?!" The thought pounded and ached in her brain, taunting her and tugging at the small strings left holding together her sanity.

"It's because she loved him," She whimpered. "She loved him enough to give up her own life for his." 

Cassandra's blood began to boil at the thought. They had barely known each other for two months, had only been together for (less than) a single night, but suddenly that made them soulmates who were willing to die for each other?! It didn't make any sense! Y/n shouldn't have taken that bullet for him, he- he wasn't worth it!

She clutched and ripped at strands of her hair, shaking in a blinding rage. What made him so special to her? He was just some grunty vigilante buzzkill, and Y/n was a sassy badass robber queen with contagious confidence! Those two couldn't be further from compatible!

"Not to mention the way he whooped her ass during Crime Time," Cassandra whispered, narrowing her gaze down at her feet. "There's no way he actually could have loved her, with the severity of those wounds I had to clean up that night."

But then, Cassandra found her thoughts wandering back to that moment of their escape, as he tried to pull Y/n's limp corpse out of the smoldering storage unit. Her eyes were clouded by smoke and she couldn't see well, but she was certain of the burning anger she saw on his face after Y/n was shot.

Was she in the wrong for pulling him away from her? 

No, he was going to get shot too if she didn't pull him away. The cultists would have gotten him.

But would Cassandra really have cared? She owed Mysterion nothing. If anything, she should have let him die at their hands.

But wouldn't that have made Y/n's sacrifice all for nothing? She jumped in front of him with no hesitation. . .

As she debated against herself, minutes passed like hours, and hours passed like minutes.  

 The shaking girl continued to grieve.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

When Mysterion saw Cassandra duck into the old storage closet, he had entertained the idea of joining her. He didn't know her very well, but the idea of speaking with someone who was so close to Y/n was compelling. 

None of the Freedom Pals had said really said a word about Y/n's death, weirdly enough, but his team probably knew it was a touchy matter for him and just decided to stay out of it. "Maybe I should go and speak with Cassandra. . ."  

"Uh, hey, Kenny?" He turned around to see Professor Chaos standing nearby, rubbing his bandaged shoulder. He had a confused look about him. 

"Is, uh, everything okay?" He asked. "You guys have seemed kinda quiet since we got here. Well, I mean, you've been quiet. Cassandra's been. . ." 

He paused. Muffled weeping emitted from the closet. 

"Uh, she's just been doing that. Did something happen. . ?"

Mysterion scowled. "What the fuck? You were there, Chaos. You saw what happened to V/n, you saw her-" He stopped himself. He couldn't bring himself to say it. 

"You saw her die," He muttered softly. 

  Professor Chaos scrunched his face slightly. "Wha- Die? I- Aw geez, I don't remember anyone dying! Just- just a lotta smoke and screaming." He rested a hand on his chin, staring at the floor as though deep in thought. 

"But you know. . . now that you mention it, I think I do remember something happening to V/n. My memory is kinda blurry though. . . Did she run off? I feel like she ran off." 

Mysterion glared at him sideways. Professor Chaos was a villain, was him pretending not to remember V/n's death some kind of twisted joke to him?    

Scowling, he opened his mouth to give him a piece of his mind. He would not be subjected to this mockery, no matter how cruel. "Now listen here-"

Mysterion started to lunge, but a hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around swiftly before he could make any sort of move. He scowled up at his restrainer. "Toolshed, what the hell?!"

Toolshed let go of Mysterion's shoulder, folding his arms firmly against his chest. "Dude, we don't have time to mess around with Professor Chaos. We were patrolling earlier tonight, and we caught a certain fatass sauntering around outside with chipotle takeout." 

He motioned to the hostage room where V/n had been staying. The door was firmly shut, but it was easy to hear the shouting coming from within. "You guys got Cartman? What did he have to say?"

"Nothing yet. He's just been screaming about how torture doesn't work on him, that whole shtick. We were actually hoping you could deal with him, you're pretty good with the interrogation stuff."

Mysterion huffed in annoyance. He had just escaped a near-death situation which his lover hadn't survived, and instead of giving him his space to grieve, his team was already dispatching him on another mission. Such is the life of a Freedom Pal.

Mysterion turned away from Toolshed and marched over to the room. He felt a rage begin to burn in his throat. All the shit he's been through in the last while, all the anger he had been bottling up. . .  he would have to contain it for now. 

Of course, that didn't mean he wasn't going to make this 'interrogation' feel any less than a torture session for The Coon.

He swung the door open, then slammed it shut behind him. His cape flapped at his feet as he took loud, brisk steps towards the tied up Coon.

"Oh great, it's you." He rolled his eyes. "What're you going to do, brood me to death?" He snickered at his joke, but Mysterion was less than amused. He thrust his hands underneath the Coon's rolling layers of neck fat, gripping at his throat tightly. 

The fat boy gasped and sputtered, chocking desperately for air, but his oppressor didn't let up. Mysterion only narrowed his gaze and squeezed tighter. 

 "You killed an innocent girl, Cartman." He spat. "You killed her and now you're going to pay. I'm finally going to make you answer for all of your savageries!" 

He was on the brink of passing out, it was easy to tell from the puffiness in his cheeks and the sickly blue tint his face took on. "P-please," He sputtered. "I'll- I'll tell you anything, just let me go-"   

Mysterion released his grip. The Coon threw his head back, panting heavily and sucking in as much air as his greedy lungs could bear. "Jesus fuck Mysterion, what the fuck was that for!?"

Mysterion crossed his arms. "You're going to tell me everything you know about the cult. Why they're here, why they were kidnapping kids, what they were going to do with Y/n. . . you're going to explain it, all of it."  

The Coon scowled. "But if I tell you, I won't get paid and I won't be able to get back at you guys by kickstarting my own Super Mega Coon Franchise!™"

Mysterion blinked. So, this was Cartman's motivation for all of this? To get back at Freedom Pals? It definitely wasn't out of the question for his character, especially considering that he had a pretty big vendetta against them since the franchise merge. 

"Ugh, I should have known you would be doing this just to get back at us! I thought we dealt with this back in the fourth grade, when The New Kid did those time-farts with his ass!" The fatass shrugged at the mention of him. 

"Yeah, I remember that. The New Kid was pretty strong, I'll admit that much, but he also totally fucked me over when I tried making it Christmas every day. So, when kids started going missing, I saw it as the perfect opportunity to get him out of the way. I've been keeping him in the Coon Lair™ on a strict diet of salad and bottled water."        

Behind the closed door of the interrogation room, someone let out a very sharp gasp of surprise. "Great," Mysterion thought. "Someone's eavesdropping." Before he could move to open the door and expose the extra pair of ears, it suddenly swung open with a loud bang. Professor Chaos stood there, teeth gritted and eyes blazing in outrage. He stomped over to where The Coon was tied up, digging his nails into his palms. 

"THE ENTIRE TIME, IT WAS YOU?! YOU TOLD ME THAT V/N WAS THE ONE THAT HAD THE NEW KID! YOU SAID YOU WERE GONNA HELP ME FIND HIM!" The Coon yawned. "Butters, the only reason I told you that was so you wouldn't catch wind of what I was actually doing. If you found out I had the New Kid in my basement, then you'd send your minions to free him and then he would stop my plans." 

Professor Chaos growled under his breath. "You listen well, Coon. I'm going to go get my Butthole, and then we're going to totally destroy you!" He marched out of the room in a huff, taking thunderous steps up the staircase. He opened the door, but turned his head back down to address The Coon. "YOU WILL RUE THE DAY YOU MADE A FOOL OF ME, COON! PROFESSOR CHAOS WILL EXACT HIS REVENGE!"

 All of the Freedom Pals looked up at him as he slammed the basement door shut, then turned to glance at Mysterion. He exhaled through his teeth, then firmly shut the door. 

"Wow, did you hear that?" The Coon remarked. "Butters is pretty gay for the New Kid, huh?" Mysterion turned his steely gaze back at Cartman, ignoring the comment. "So, does this mean that you were an accomplice in the kidnappings? What do you know about the cults intentions?" 

The Coon sighed. "Wow Mysterion, don't you know it's rude to answer a question with a question?"

"Answer the question fatass, or I'll feed your balls to my pet opossum."

"OKAY, Okay. Fine." He inhaled. "All I know is that the cultists were kidnapping kids from skewl because they were looking for some bitch named Y/n L/n. They've been trying to find her for a long time, but they had like, no idea what she looked like. They zeroed in on her location here, so they just started abducting people within her age group in the hopes one of them would be her. Stupid plan if you ask me."

Mysterion shook his head. "They called her 'The Deathless.' What does that mean?" The Coon shrugged underneath his bounds. "I don't know anything about that. They were pretty selective with what they told me. Either way, it was pretty obvious they were gonna kill her once they got her."          

"And you would still just hand her over, knowing that?!" Mysterion snarled. He averted his gaze, glaring bitterly down at the floor. "Though, I guess I shouldn't have been surprised by this. You always have been a selfish, sociopathic dick."

With a swish of his cape, he walked back up to the cell door and opened it. He looked back over at The Coon one last time. 

"Also, we're totally going to give the New Kid the rest of your Chipotle." 

His face flushed red again. "NO, NOT MY CHIPOTLE! GODDAMMIT, KINNY COME BACK HERE-" The door slammed shut, though the cries of outrage muffled through the walls.     

"So, did he, uh, tell you anything?" Mosquito asked. "He said that the cult withheld information from him, but I'm pretty sure that was a load of bullshit. When the New Kid gets here, we can get him some Mexican food and then let him rip a few farts in the holding cell."

Human Kite nodded. "Yeah, that's probably the best course of action. I mean, it worked last time. So what do we do now?"   

"I say we alert the authorities as to who these guys are and what they've been doing in town, kidnapping people and all. Maybe they could be of help." Captain Diabetes suggested. 

"Seriously, dude?" Super Craig cut in. "There's no way anyone would believe us about this, least of all the cops. We should get in there and get rid of the cult before they decide to do anything seriously bad to their hostages."

"But what if that's just what they wanted us to do?"

"Hey, what if it's not?"

The Freedom Pals all jumped into the discussion, pitching in their thoughts and ideas on how to better tackle the matter.

They were all so enthralled in their debate that no one noticed Cassandra peek her head out of the closet. 

She scanned the room of chattering teens with her soaked and still leaking eyes, confused as to what sparked the sudden argument. She stared down each one, squinting and taking each of their expressions into account. No one looked back at her, probably because no one had yet noticed her. 

But of course, as soon as she settled her glare on Mysterion, that bastard turned right around and stared straight back.    

Right then, she had the urge to turn around and slam the door as hard as she could. She wanted to huddle back into the secluded closet and curse his name in peaceful solitude. But, against her impulse, she held her burning gaze as firmly as she could. 

Mysterion sighed, said something inaudible to the guy next to him, pointed at her, then began to make his way over to her hiding spot. Cassandra's head shrank back into her neck as he approached.

"Oh god, what's he going to do? Is he gonna punch me?!" Another horrible realization dawned on her as his imposing silhouette overshadowed hers. 

"Oh no. He's. . . he's gonna. . . LECTURE ME ABOUT STALKING PEOPLE FROM INSIDE OF CLOSETS!"  The very thought made her neck bristle. Who was he to lecture her, as if she were some sort of child? This asshole had some nerve. . !

"Your name is Cassandra, isn't it?" He asked, snapping her out of her thoughts. "I don't have to call you Virus, do I?"

Cassandra scowled. "You may refer to me by my first name, but only due to the fact that my gas mask, a key component of my Virus persona, has disappeared under mysterious circumstances." 

"Ah. Alright then."

 Mysterion stood there, waiting for an invitation to enter. She sighed, and reluctantly scooted back to let him in.

He closed the closet door behind him, then plopped himself down next to her on the floor. He leaned back against a stack of boxes, sighing and closing his eyes. 

This was rather off-putting to Cassandra, who had expected this otherwise rigid and serious hero to be giving her a stern lecture on staring at people from closets. She stared at him, eyes still narrowed in suspicion, while he instead took a few deep, relaxed breaths. 

He opened one eye lazily, looking at her angry expression straight in its maw. "You know, I get the feeling that you don't like me very much." Cassandra looked away but didn't respond. "Is it because-"

"Y/n." She interrupted. "How long had you known her for?" He glanced at her sideways. He didn't know where Y/n's sister was going with this, but he would play along. "Well, I've basically known her since you guys moved here."

"Well," Cassandra said sharply. "I've basically known her for her entire life." 

"She- she was my sister." She stared off into the swirling airstreams of dust. "My twin sister. My only family left. And she's gone. Gone forever." She looked up. Dead olive eyes against unreadable ice. 

"You have no idea how this feels, Mysterion. To have someone so important to you, just ripped out of your life in a single heartbeat." 

Mysterion glanced at her sideways. "Bold of you to assume your sister wasn't important to me." 

"You sure as hell don't act like it," Cassandra muttered, wiping her eyes. "Though, I understand if upholding your stoic mystery-hero reputation is more important to you than she was. Besides, she only took a fucking bullet to the head for you." 

She turned to glare at him, her broken and battered spirit kindled only by the fires of her grief. "You act like you're so high and mighty, you know that? Like, "Oh, I'm so great and amazing just because I'm incapable of feeling grief over a deceased girl whom I had supposedly claimed to love!"  Her voice cracked as she mocked him, though it quickly escalated into a small coughing fit.  

Hunching over as she hacked, Mysterion sat there beside her, patiently waiting for her to finish.  

When Cassandra finally got a hold of herself, he glanced over at her casually. "Are you done?" She wiped a bit of dribble from her bottom lip. She scoffed. "Fuck you, asshole." She turned away from him, sulking. "Why would you come in here if all you were gonna do is piss me off?"

He sat upright, gaze never faltering. "I didn't come in here to piss you off." 

She looked over her shoulder. "Then why are you here, instead of out there with your stupid super pals?"  

"Well, I have a few reasons. One of them being that I wanted to, well. . ." Mysterion scratched the back of his neck. "I hope this doesn't sound weird, but I wanted to learn more about Y/n. What she was like as a kid, all of that stuff. I figured you would be the best person to come to."

Cassandra was taken aback. "Why though?"

He smiled sadly. "Well, she was my girlfriend, wasn't she?"

The guilt hit like a freight train. After she had yelled at him and accused him of not caring about Y/n, the only thing he really ever wanted to do was talk about the life she had led. A part of her would always blame this boy in spandex for what happened to her sister, but she couldn't blame him for at least wanting to honor her memory. Hell, maybe he felt as guilty as her. 

". . .Fine." She said at last. "I guess it wouldn't be fair to let her die spiritually, too. We've seen too much death today."

He nodded solemnly, as though this was all too familiar to him. "Yeah. . . too much death."

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

He swiped a finger over a tinfoil-covered wall. Examining it with a critical eye, he almost retched at the repulsive layer of dust that coated its surface.

Children were so disgusting and careless. Why couldn't they at least clean their bases once in a while?

"Sir?" He turned around to face a nervous-looking young man with a massive zit on his forehead.

Shaking slightly, he cleared his throat. "I- I was sent to inform you that the Deathless girls accomplices e-escaped after the detonation of the storage unit 16. We weren't able to p-pull out her corpse from underneath the rubble, unfortunately. Also, that little fat boy dressed as a raccoon hasn't come back yet."

He squeezed his eyes shut as he awaited punishment. 

"Open your eyes, lad. I know better than to shoot the messenger." 

He blinked his eyes open, obviously confused by this show of mercy. He'd expected at least an affirmative slap across the face for being the bearer of such terrible news.

"S-sir, the ritual officers want to know what our plan of action is. W-what are your orders?"

He considered the question carefully. What could they do, with the Deathless girl already dead? She was due to revive at any given moment, but would she still be within this desolate, scummy town? Would they stay in South Park, or would they be on the move once more?

Before tonight, their search for Y/n L/n had been nothing short of a game of cat and mouse. She was the meek prey, and they were the bloodthirsty predators. 

Now, though. . . this was a battle of wits. She had a group of powerful people on her side- although they were only pesky children, much like her, they still posed some kind of threat to their discreet operation. 

This next move could be their last. . . the one that determines whether they get what they want, or if Y/n gets to live another day. 

Y/n had made her move. Dying for her lover was a foolish choice in the end, and it would cost her. The corner of his mouth twinging in satisfaction, he turned back to the nervous recruit. "Tell the ritual officers we continue with our current strategy. The Deathless will return, and when she does, we will finally appease our god."

"S-sir, the ritual officers have stated that they are tired of hunting for Y/n L/n. They are growing impatient with this goose chase."

The leader turned on his heel, glaring at the boy. His head seemed to shrink back into his robes. "You tell the ritual officers not to test me. I know what I am doing. Soon, we will have the Deathless in our control, and when we do. . ." He gave a sly smile.

". . .She's going to face a very permanent fate."

_______________________________________________________________________________

Sweet mother of stonks I'm finally finished

You guys, I am seriously so sorry for this taking 2 months to write. I really didn't intend for the process to be this long, but I had to cram for exams, prioritize schoolwork, all that fun stuff. But! I hope you all enjoy this chapter nonetheless. A few things I do want to acknowledge: 

1: We hit 4k reads! Holy shit, this is incredible everyone! Thank you. Really, it means so much. 

2: As of this writing, we're #1 in the 'freedompals' tag! Thank youuuuuuu

Also, it's kind of funny, the one-year anniversary of this book publishing is coming up on the 29th! Makes me feel kind of old, geez 

Anyway, I just needed to thank you all once again for your continued support and patronage. Your patience is much appreciated and I'll do my best to give you all more content in the future! It's what you all deserve for being so amazing. 

I love you guys!

-Ever

(Also: Don't forget to eat your veggies they're good for you)