Just a quick author's note, I'm going to release a playlist for this story eventually and upload it on YouTube. Since it's still in the making, now would be a great time to suggest songs to add if you may have any. It may just get featured in the video ;)

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Your hand found its way over your squinted eyes, a shielding from the illumination that welcomed you into the vidid living room. It was quite the comparison to that dim basement you were just previously in, and your eyes seemingly took their time to readjust to something you haven't seen in a long time.

Dipper made sure to always keep your hand in reach for when you had lost your balance, something he realized as you manifested stumbling a few times as you went up the basement's staircase. Wandering around wasn't a problem of yours, it was the fight against gravity that the weight of your new mechanical body had some adjusting to get to. Whatever metals Dipper had used to assembly the robot, it was pretty damn heavy compared to your prior form comprised of pure energy. That's what made flying and teleportation easy for demons, you were nothing but being of light.

"Your own house, huh? I remember when you used to live with your great uncle," you idly commented, eyes examining through the furnished area varying from many shades of blue. A wistful chuckle escaped the brunet in response, his eyes scanning over his arrangement contently.

"Yeah. It's been a dream of mine ever since childhood, to have a place of my own. Don't get me wrong, I love my family, but. . ." The phrase died on his lips as he struggled to find the right words, lightly shaking his head before continuing. "Not having anyone nag me about the way I like to keep my things organized is quite relieving."

You pursed your lips and hummed at his statement, eyes tracing over the subtle change of his expression. You couldn't help but to take notice of the offhanded, nearly guilty, way he said it. "When's the last time you talked to any of them?" you asked out of concern, tilting your head slightly.

Dipper visibly winced at your question, chocolate eyes awkwardly meeting at the wooden floors. "I-I don't know exactly. Years,
perhaps?" he glanced over to you, shoulders shrugging in uncertainty. "It was some time after graduation."

You huffed through your nose, gradually turning away from him as you took in the smaller details of his home–empty takeout boxes in the trash, dirty dishes towering within the sink, and clothes draping over the furniture. You recalled from years ago that the brunet was quite the slacker when it came to keeping his things tidy, but this was just unnerving. "I suppose the better question is how long you've shut yourself away like this."

"I haven't exactly kept track, if we're being honest." He ran a hand through his unruly curls. "It's been so long. You have no idea how relieving it is to have a conversation with an actual person."

You gave him an uneased look as that had been said, catching a glint of sadness in his eyes before he had shamefully averted them. The sole thought of being alone all these years, neglecting both himself and his family, was something that the brunet hated himself for, and he knew he could never fix what he broke.

With the hurdle the prior years had brought upon him, Dipper just slowly began breaking connection from them once he lost you. He figured he would be left carrying the burden all by himself, regardless if he were to try to explain the ordeal of your disappearance. After all, it was foolish to think a demon as yourself would inflict misery upon someone in such an ironic way; why would anyone want to be supportive over such immorality?

Though, Dipper still made poor life decisions when he quit visiting and talking to them all together. Perhaps it was out of fear that if he were to see them again someday that they would pry him for answers, why he enclosed himself from humanity like he did. He didn't want to risk exposing your identity, left alone get himself confined in a mental hospital for having an obsession as irrational as this, hence it was his argument to be safe rather than sorry.

"Sorry, I'm. . . so sorry. We shouldn't be talking about this right now," he hid his face behind his hands, slowly dragging them down as he released a provoked sigh. "Let's just focus on the mission, shall we?"

"Alright," you simply replied, acknowledging that this isn't a topic to proceed with at the moment.

You straightened your stance as you pushed a single strand of hair behind your ear, painfully aware of the falseness of your robotic hand. "Like I was saying earlier, I follow the schedule of other Demons of Fate, since king Cipher allowed for us all to pick and choose from this centuries list of victims. Though, I'll admit I haven't realized this until now, but I can't seem to remember nothing but their faces, if not a few names. I suppose it's the side-effect of being out for so long."

"That's fine. We live in pretty small town, I'm sure we can manage to find them. Just let me know who you remember, and we can build up from there," he responded.

"Alright, well. . ." you rested your index finger over your lip, eyes staring down a wooden floor panel as you attempted to recollect your memories. You nonchalantly watched as Dipper's foot tap away in the corner of your eye, taking notice of how it stopped the moment your facial expression changed in the slightest.

"I remember someone–a male, that is–with pale skin, and white hair. I believe his name was something on the lines of Greg?"

"Gideon," Dipper breathed out, his eyes wide in realization and his complexion paler than usual. "I've seen that dude's name somewhere."

With brows furrowed in thought, the brunet scampered across the room and to the granite countertop. He began rummaging through the mail and other contents piling upon each other, before pulling out specifically a newspaper. He began to anxiously flip through the pages, feverishly mumbling quiet to himself, before briefly coming to a stop. With his eyes scanning over the page airily, he snapped his fingers in triumph as his brows quirked.

"This right here! Come see," he gestured with his hand, his eyes never leaving the page. You pursed your lips as you made your way to his side, leaning into his shoulder to get a better look. You took ahold of the corner of the page, your eyes flickering over the monochromatic body of paper possessing the silhouette of a relatively short man.

Gravity Falls' Carnival: Join us tomorrow for a night full of fun–rides, food, music, and all sorts of entertainment varying from the all famous magician Gideon Gleeful, to many other successful performers!

Your eyes glinted with interest at the page before you, your lips slightly departing from one another. Your mind began to recognize the little details one by one, and, before you knew it, everything suddenly came all crashing down on you like a tidal wave–Gideon Gleeful was to die on the day of a performance, caused by an arson backstage.

You released a gasp in realization, quickly releasing the delicate paper from underneath your nails and looking up to meet with a pair of avid eyes. "T-This is it, Dipper. I remember everything so clearly now. He was the name subsequent to yours, and he is scheduled to die tomorrow at his show."

His jaw dropped. "Holy shit, are you serious?"

You vigorously nodded in confirmation, the sound of a slap following as the brunet's hand met with his forehead. "Unbelievable," he breathed out. "Just to think that if I had delayed my work by just one day, the whole apocalypse would've spreaded like a wildfire."

"Well we're still walking a fine line right now. We have to get in contact with Gideon, and make sure he's as far as possible from the backstage. The only way we can do that is if we can manage to get back there without causing any unwanted attention to ourselves."

"Well, is that so?" he smoothly said, once more snatching the newspaper into his hands. His chocolate eyes gradually travelled from the midst of the page, tracing all the way back up to your robotic form with a smirk playing at his lips.

"Then I believe tomorrow night you have a performance to put on."