User:Zadimortis/Fracture Post-Script

Alice rises to her feet.

The thing that shines above her is not a sun, but her fur bristles comfortably in its warmth. She stretches, and it is the best feeling in the world. It spawns something deep within her belly, prickling outwards from her core to her skin, up her chest, her throat, and finally out of her mouth - a howl that turns her world white with ecstasy, with freedom, oblivious to the alien beasts flying overhead that her awakening has startled.

When her glorious energy is spent, she draws in a breath, feeling it fill all her new orifices, all her old cracks. She drinks in the world around her. Sienna trunks of winding trees patch throughout a garden of crystalline flowers, refracting the alien light into colors she can finally, truly, appreciate. She feels her nails flex, already anticipating herself climbing up these trunks, to- how high? She cranes her head upwards, and grins in excitement as she has to look higher and higher, unable to see their tops amidst the clouds - but those too are extending branches down that intertwine with the canopy of these trees. Myriad winged creatures weave betwixt these spreading knots, writing in the mists above.

Alice flops down into the crystalline flowers, and with only a moment’s hesitation they begin curving in towards her, rubbing against her fur. She feels them exude a fluid of some sort, and the sensation both warms and chills her. Were she in the wilds of her birthplace, this would be a signal to panic, to flee, but here there is no need. Here, in this world that is her that is the world, relationships can only be symbiotic.

There was only one thing that could make it better.

Alice stands up and shouts. “Betty?”

With a sickly pop, a writhing mass ejects from the ground, shooting up to Alice’s eye level, then hovers in place. The mass is shaped like an inverse teardrop, a pod no larger than Alice’s closed fist, with a single emerald green tendril extending towards the ground that gently swishes to and fro. The body of the pod is squishy, its skin a translucent olive, holding a mass within that Alice can’t quite make out. Within it, she sees white eyeballs occasionally rise to the surface, then sink back down amidst other organs. Out of the top of the pod, a four-leaf rotor spins rapidly, appearing to keep it afloat. Alice sees this, and can’t stifle a giggle.

“Oh, Betty…” she says, reaching out her hands to cup the pod. “You’re beautiful.” The Betty-pod wriggles contentedly in Alice’s hands. She brings it in to her chest, gently pressing the pod against it.

“Just like old times, hm? A whole world to explore. But this time, there’s no survival. There’s no fear. We are Fracture. We, too, are endless.” Alice buries her head in her cupped hands, fully enshrouding Betty with her warmth.

“Because Fracture is love. And love can’t ever die. Not truly.”

Suddenly, Alice spreads her arms and flings Betty into the air, laughing wildly. After several seconds of panicked tumbling, Betty regains control of herself, slowly hovering back down to Alice’s level. Still laughing, Alice bounds on all fours towards the nearest tree, hurtling herself up its length in giant swings. The Betty-pod starts spinning towards her, frantically trying to keep pace.

Before long, they are leaping up into the tendrils of the outstretched clouds, far out of view.