A stale light blinks off and on, fighting an endless struggle to hold the darkness at bay. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. The room is barren of any comfort, furnished only by strange technological devices, a few half-eaten sandwiches, and countless discarded blueprints and pages filled with scrawling handwriting.
A massive tank in the corner of the room stands tall, flecks of ice attached to the outside. Inside the tank is a body, encased in ice, with many different wires and tubes connecting, pumping strange fluids all the while.
Looking beyond, oblivious to the aberrant noise, a lone figure stands in the austere room, muttering to themselves. "If I tweak the temporal dissonance... no, that would never work," they scowl, disassembling something in their hands, before they go still at the tell-tale sound of a ringtone: the song There! Right There! from the soundtrack of Legally Blonde.
Something inside them twists at the sound they constantly tell themselves they have to change, before they answer the call. A gentle silence fills the room for a few moments, before a murmur is heard from the other end of the line. "You know why i'm calling."
The only response is the faint droning of the light. "You haven't talked to any of us in months. Austin said you slammed the door in his face. We're worried about you!" They continue.
Still, they receive no answer. A resounding scoff emits from the phone. "You think you're the only one who's struggling? Fuck, you didn't even go to the funeral..."
[[Luke]]
[[Lucy]]
[[Lux]](set: $name to "Luke")
"You didn't even go to the funeral, $name!"
A few seconds pass, before a coarse voice whispers, "...they're not dead."
A sigh is heard. "$name... they're gone! They wouldn't want you to be like this for months after they're gone. Morgan would've wanted you to move on, dude."
"They're not gone!" You shout, standing up abruptly, the project you were working on clattering on the clustered table. "They can't be gone," you say, at a much quieter pitch.
After all, if Morgan is gone, what point is there? They were your entire world. When everything was crumbling around you, they were there to pick you up and make you laugh. They gave everything they had to ensure you would be okay... even their life. If they were dead, then you were too.
They were your...
[[Best friend.]]
[[Partner.]](set: $name to "Lux")
"You didn't even go to the funeral, $name!"
A few seconds pass, before a coarse voice whispers, "...they're not dead."
A sigh is heard. "$name... they're gone! They wouldn't want you to be like this for months after they're gone. Morgan would've wanted you to move on."
"They're not gone!" You shout, standing up abruptly, the project you were working on clattering on the clustered table. "They can't be gone," you say, at a much quieter pitch.
After all, if Morgan is gone, what point is there? They were your entire world. When everything was crumbling around you, they were there to pick you up and make you laugh. They gave everything they had to ensure you would be okay... even their life. If they were dead, then you were too.
They were your...
[[Best friend.]]
[[Partner.]](set: $name to "Lucy")
"You didn't even go to the funeral, $name!"
A few seconds pass, before a coarse voice whispers, "...they're not dead."
A sigh is heard. "$name... they're gone! They wouldn't want you to be like this for months after they're gone. Morgan would've wanted you to move on, girl."
"They're not gone!" You shout, standing up abruptly, the project you were working on clattering on the clustered table. "They can't be gone," you say, at a much quieter pitch.
After all, if Morgan is gone, what point is there? They were your entire world. When everything was crumbling around you, they were there to pick you up and make you laugh. They gave everything they had to ensure you would be okay... even their life. If they were dead, then you were too.
They were your...
[[Best friend.]]
[[Partner.]](set: $relationship to 1)
Your best friend. The last bastion of sanity that held you together whilst the world outside descended into chaos and war.
...you can't live without them, no matter what anyone says. You hadn't spent the last few months wasting away, hoping that you were as brilliant as Morgan always claimed you were—hoping you could find some way to bring them back.
"Oh, $name..." your friend murmurs, their timbre coloured with sadness. "I know they were your other half, but you can't bring them back. Even if you did, they're at peace now. Can you really tear that away from them?"
Your fists clench.
[["If I can't bring them back, i'd rather be dead," you breathe.|method]]
[["I can do it!" You snarl. "I'm not a fucking moron."|method]]
[["I have to try," you say. "I—have to."|method]](set: $relationship to 2)
Your partner. The love of your life. The person that kept you going whilst the world outside descended into chaos and war.
...you can't live without them, no matter what anyone says. You hadn't spent the last few months wasting away, hoping that you were as brilliant as Morgan always claimed you were—hoping you could find some way to bring them back.
"Oh, $name..." your friend murmurs, their timbre coloured with sadness. "I know they were your lover, but you can't do this. You're killing yourself doing this! Would you want them to come back to you when you're practically doing the same thing they did for you?"
Your fists clench.
[["If I can't bring them back, i'd rather be dead," you breathe.|method]]
[["I can do it!" You snarl. "I'm not a fucking moron."|method]]
[["I have to try," you say. "I—have to."|method]]
Without waiting for your friend's response, you tap the disconnect button on your phone. You don't have time to waste trying to convince your friend that you have to do this. You've spent the last few months researching resurrection, poring over old, dusty tomes that spoke of magick before the technological revolution eradicated all but the most secretive sects.
And, of course, before most of the world order was plunged into devestating war. You've been out of the loop ever since... well, ever since //it// happened, but the last you've heard, it wasn't going too well. Some part of you that you've been suppressing gave a jolt at that—at the patriotism and loyalty you used to so proudly display, before you abandoned everyone for the slightest chance that Morgan could be brought back to you.
You've been deliberating on the most pivotal choice that all of your research had imprinted onto you: the sacrifice. In all of the works you've read, they've all shared one universal truth: for something to be returned from The Great Beyond, something must be given back. Something of equal value.
[[You're prepared to give up anything, though. You have precious little to lose.]]Your possessions had always numbered few throughout the years. Since becoming an orphan, you've had only a couple things that were truly precious to you. Your mother's necklace—a beautiful golden heirloom that was the only thing left of your family—was the only material possession. Morgan was another.
For something as dangerous as bringing the dead back to life, you would need to be deadly serious in what you offered. Depending on your choice, the consequences could be extremely varied.
The last thing left of your lineage? That might not be enough to resurrect a soul. A necklace is next to nothing when compared to (if: $relationship is 1)[your best friend] (if: $relationship is 2)[your partner]. But, if it didn't work, you wouldn't lose something you could never get back.
Maybe... your memories? That's pretty significant, but it isn't all-in. You don't know what memories you could lose, though... what if you forgot your friends? Your life? Even Morgan?
The only documented resurrection, though, was the exchange of 'a soul for a soul'. You don't think you could forgive yourself if you killed someone for this, nor would Morgan. But your own? It's unprecedented. You don't know what would happen, but... you have said that you'd give up anything for them before.
What exactly are you willing to lose?
[[Your necklace.]]
[[Your memories.]]
[[Your soul.]]
(set: $sacrifice to 4)
You can always make new memories, right? It isn't as permanent as a soul, but hopefully it would be enough. You still have a few more things you need to prepare before you try to start the ritual, but you've decided the most important part.
A main component of a resurrection is also an object that binds you to the soul you're trying to return. There are a few of those you have that you couldn't bear to get rid of. The most important part is that it's something that is deeply treasured.
Two things come to mind: a photograph of the two of you (if: $relationship is 1)[mirthfully giggling while covered in cake batter. That had been a disastrous attempt, but had become one of your fondest memories] (if: $relationship is 2)[during your first kiss, taken secretly by one of your friends—It's taken at an awkward angle and is not the highest definition, but it had always held a special place in your heart]; or the hand-carved statuette they made of you. (if: $name is "Luke")[It actually looks remarkably like you. Maybe a bit more handsome than you actually were, though.] (if: $name is "Lucy")[They made you look so pretty.] (if: $name is "Lux") [They somehow made you look perfectly andrognous in a tiny piece of wood... they were always insanely talented.]
Which would bind you more to (if: $relationship is 1)[your platonic soulmate] (if: $relationship is 2)[the love of your life], though?
[[The photograph. It's a moment that encapsulates the two of you perfectly.]]
[[The statue. The love Morgan put into making it would bind you more than a photo ever could.]](set: $sacrifice to 5)
Whatever it takes. You would give up anything if it meant you could have them back... even at the cost of yourself. You still have a few more things you need to prepare before you try to start the ritual, but you've decided the most important part.
A main component of a resurrection is also an object that binds you to the soul you're trying to return. There are a few of those you have that you couldn't bear to get rid of. The most important part is that it's something that is deeply treasured.
Two things come to mind: a photograph of the two of you (if: $relationship is 1)[mirthfully giggling while covered in cake batter. That had been a disastrous attempt, but had become one of your fondest memories] (if: $relationship is 2)[during your first kiss, taken secretly by one of your friends—It's taken at an awkward angle and is not the highest definition, but it had always held a special place in your heart]; or the hand-carved statuette they made of you. They told you they spent days working on it, ordering speciality sandalwood that had become quite rare, and looking up countless tutorials.(if: $name is "Luke")[It actually looks remarkably like you. Maybe a bit more handsome than you actually were, though.] (if: $name is "Lucy")[They made you look so pretty. They even gave you your dimples, which you had always despised but they had loved.] (if: $name is "Lux") [They somehow made you look perfectly andrognous in a tiny piece of wood... they were always insanely talented.]
Which would bind you more to (if: $relationship is 1)[your platonic soulmate] (if: $relationship is 2)[the love of your life], though?
[[The photograph. It's a moment that encapsulates the two of you perfectly.]]
[[The statue. The love Morgan put into making it would bind you more than a photo ever could.]](set: $sacrifice to 3)
You don't want to risk everything. Morgan wouldn't want you to. You still have a few more things you need to prepare before you try to start the ritual, but you've decided the most important part.
A main component of a resurrection is also an object that binds you to the soul you're trying to return. There are a few of those you have that you couldn't bear to get rid of. The most important part is that it's something that is deeply treasured.
Two things come to mind: a photograph of the two of you (if: $relationship is 1)[mirthfully giggling while covered in cake batter. That had been a disastrous attempt, but had become one of your fondest memories] (if: $relationship is 2)[during your first kiss, taken secretly by one of your friends—It's taken at an awkward angle and is not the highest definition, but it had always held a special place in your heart]; or the hand-carved statuette they made of you. (if: $name is "Luke")[It actually looks remarkably like you. Maybe a bit more handsome than you actually were, though.] (if: $name is "Lucy")[They made you look so pretty.] (if: $name is "Lux") [They somehow made you look perfectly andrognous in a tiny piece of wood... they were always insanely talented.]
Which would bind you more to (if: $relationship is 1)[your platonic soulmate] (if: $relationship is 2)[the love of your life], though?
[[The photograph. It's a moment that encapsulates the two of you perfectly.]]
[[The statue. The love Morgan put into making it would bind you more than a photo ever could.]](set: $binding to "photograph")
You stare at the photograph a little longer. Oh, how you wish you could go back to that moment. Everything was so much simpler, back then... you'd give anything to go back.
You shake your head, dispelling the errant memories. There's one more decision you need to make before you can begin the ritual: the chant. The words used to call beyond the veil and beseech the deceased to hear you and return. If you aren't careful with your phrasing, you could reach the wrong spirit entirely, and disrupt the balance of the ritual. Probably. The books weren't exactly clear on this part. The most important part, though, was that they came from the heart.
You've spent every second since Morgan died dreaming of what you would say to them when you finally reunited, but now that you're so close, you're a little lost for words. "I love you," isn't exactly the most precise of phrases. Even if it's the most truthful thing you've said in ages.
You close your eyes, picturing what you could say to bring them back to you.
(if: $relationship is 1)[
[[Do you remember that afternoon in the kitchen? When you saw me trying not to cry as I told you I messed up your birthday cake? You said that this was the greatest gift you had ever gotten, and we ate that entire disaster. I've never been as happy as that moment. I just want one more memory like that.|bestie photograph]]]
(if: $relationship is 2)[
[[Do you remember our first kiss? We had just got off the ferris wheel, and I was trying not to throw up as you teased me relentlessly. I begged you to stop, but you said you could do this with me forever. Even though that kiss wasn't like the movies, it was the most special night of my life. Please, I just want one more kiss.|lover photograph]]]
[[I've spent every damn second since you died wishing it was me instead. That you would finally realise for once in your life that I can't do this without you. I don't know who I am anymore, Morgan. All I know is I need you.|normal]]
[[Is—god, I can't believe i'm saying this, but you loved this damn musical. Is he gay or European? I'd suffer through every second if you would just come back. Please, please, come back.|legally blonde]](set: $binding to "statue")
You hold the statue limply in your hands. One of the last pieces of Morgan left in this world, and it's just a tiny, miniscule carving. You wish they were here to give you a hundred more silly little statues.
You shake your head, dispelling the errant memories. There's one more decision you need to make before you can begin the ritual: the chant. The words used to call beyond the veil and beseech the deceased to hear you and return. If you aren't careful with your words, you could reach the wrong spirit entirely, and disrupt the balance of the ritual. Probably. The books weren't exactly clear on this part.
You've spent every second since Morgan died dreaming of what you would say to them when you finally reunited, but now that you're so close, you're a little lost for words. "I love you," isn't exactly the most precise of phrases. Even if it's the most truthful thing you've said in ages.
You close your eyes, picturing what you could say to bring them back to you.
[[Remember the statue you made for me? I remember when you gave it to me, you were so nervous. I told you that it didn't matter what you gave me, so long as it was from you. Please, come back. I want to be able to make you one too.|statuette]]
[[I've spent every damn second since you died wishing it was me instead. That you would finally realise for once in your life that I can't do this without you. I don't know who I am anymore, Morgan. All I know is I need you.|normal]]
[[Is—god, I can't believe i'm saying this, but you loved this damn musical. Is he gay or European? I'd suffer through every second of this if you would just come back. Please, please, come back.|legally blonde]](set: $chant to "baking")
You have all the elements of the ritual prepared. You've spent six months since Morgan's life drained from their eyes researching, creating, desperately searching for a way to bring them back, and you hope this is the culmination of all of your brilliance.
You try not to think about what would actually happen if Morgan came back—you've fantasized about (if: $relationship is 1)[going to so many more places, escaping the hellhole that is the world for a while. Fantasized about having your best friend back.] (if: $relationship is 2)[holding them, just once more. Kissing them like you're drowning, like you'd die if you stop—like you'd never let them go again.] But if things went wrong... you don't want to picture that. You can't get your hopes up, but you know that you're diligent. This has to work.
You have the sacrifice, the binding object, and the chant. Now all you need is the deceased. You chance a forlorn glance to the corner of your lab, gaze stuttering when it lands on the freezer you've entombed your lost half in. It had nearly fractured your whole team when you came in to the morgue, demanding to be given Morgan's body. If they'd known what you planned to do to it... but they thought you were merely grieving, unable to move on.
Oh, no. You were about to do so much more.
[[You gently de-activate the freezer and bring Morgan's cold-to-the-touch cadaver to the floor, as if you're holding their heart in your hands.]](set: $chant to "kiss")
You have all the elements of the ritual prepared. You've spent six months since Morgan's life drained from their eyes researching, creating, desperately searching for a way to bring them back, and you hope this is the culmination of all of your brilliance.
You try not to think about what would actually happen if Morgan came back—you've fantasized about (if: $relationship is 1)[going to so many more places, escaping the hellhole that is the world for a while. Fantasized about having your best friend back.] (if: $relationship is 2)[holding them, just once more. Kissing them like you're drowning, like you'd die if you stop—like you'd never let them go again.] But if things went wrong... you don't want to picture that. You can't get your hopes up, but you know that you're diligent. This has to work.
You have the sacrifice, the binding object, and the chant. Now all you need is the deceased. You chance a forlorn glance to the corner of your lab, gaze stuttering when it lands on the freezer you've entombed your lost half in. It had nearly fractured your whole team when you came in to the morgue, demanding to be given Morgan's body. If they'd known what you planned to do to it... but they thought you were merely grieving, unable to move on.
Oh, no. You were about to do so much more.
[[You gently de-activate the freezer and bring Morgan's cold-to-the-touch cadaver to the floor, as if you're holding their heart in your hands.]](set: $chant to "musical")
You have all the elements of the ritual prepared. You've spent six months since Morgan's life drained from their eyes researching, creating, desperately searching for a way to bring them back, and you hope this is the culmination of all of your brilliance.
You try not to think about what would actually happen if Morgan came back—you've fantasized about (if: $relationship is 1)[going to so many more places, escaping the hellhole that is the world for a while. Fantasized about having your best friend back.] (if: $relationship is 2)[holding them, just once more. Kissing them like you're drowning, like you'd die if you stop—like you'd never let them go again.] But if things went wrong... you don't want to picture that. You can't get your hopes up, but you know that you're diligent. This has to work.
You have the sacrifice, the binding object, and the chant. Now all you need is the deceased. You chance a forlorn glance to the corner of your lab, gaze stuttering when it lands on the freezer you've entombed your lost half in. It had nearly fractured your whole team when you came in to the morgue, demanding to be given Morgan's body. If they'd known what you planned to do to it... but they thought you were merely grieving, unable to move on.
Oh, no. You were about to do so much more.
[[You gently de-activate the freezer and bring Morgan's cold-to-the-touch cadaver to the floor, as if you're holding their heart in your hands.]](set: $chant to "normal")
You have all the elements of the ritual prepared. You've spent six months since Morgan's life drained from their eyes researching, creating, desperately searching for a way to bring them back, and you hope this is the culmination of all of your brilliance.
You try not to think about what would actually happen if Morgan came back—you've fantasized about (if: $relationship is 1)[going to so many more places, escaping the hellhole that is the world for a while. Fantasized about having your best friend back.] (if: $relationship is 2)[holding them, just once more. Kissing them like you're drowning, like you'd die if you stop—like you'd never let them go again.] But if things went wrong... you don't want to picture that. You can't get your hopes up, but you know that you're diligent. This has to work.
You have the sacrifice, the binding object, and the chant. Now all you need is the deceased. You chance a forlorn glance to the corner of your lab, gaze stuttering when it lands on the freezer you've entombed your lost half in. It had nearly fractured your whole team when you came in to the morgue, demanding to be given Morgan's body. If they'd known what you planned to do to it... but they thought you were merely grieving, unable to move on.
Oh, no. You were about to do so much more.
[[You gently de-activate the freezer and bring Morgan's cold-to-the-touch cadaver to the floor, as if you're holding their heart in your hands.]](set: $chant to "statuette")
You have all the elements of the ritual prepared. You've spent six months since Morgan's life drained from their eyes researching, creating, desperately searching for a way to bring them back, and you hope this is the culmination of all of your brilliance.
You try not to think about what would actually happen if Morgan came back—you've fantasized about (if: $relationship is 1)[going to so many more places, escaping the hellhole that is the world for a while. Fantasized about having your best friend back.] (if: $relationship is 2)[holding them, just once more. Kissing them like you're drowning, like you'd die if you stop—like you'd never let them go again.] But if things went wrong... you don't want to picture that. You can't get your hopes up, but you know that you're diligent. This has to work.
You have the sacrifice, the binding object, and the chant. Now all you need is the deceased. You chance a forlorn glance to the corner of your lab, gaze stuttering when it lands on the freezer you've entombed your lost half in. It had nearly fractured your whole team when you came in to the morgue, demanding to be given Morgan's body. If they'd known what you planned to do to it... but they thought you were merely grieving, unable to move on.
Oh, no. You were about to do so much more.
[[You gently de-activate the freezer and bring Morgan's cold-to-the-touch cadaver to the floor, as if you're holding their heart in your hands.]]Body, soul, mind. The three roots of magick. In this case—Morgan's body. Morgan's soul, and the soul of whatever you offer in return. Your minds, still linked even though they're gone into The Great Beyond, the remaining tether from which you are to bring them back.
No more waiting. No more chancing a run into the nearby war-struck city of Shanghai, praying that you're still as good as you were before your life fell apart. You have everything here, and you have conviction. This //has// to work. It just has to.
Deep breath in. Once you do this, there's no going back. The consequences are a complete unknown, for the only recorded resurrection had resulted in the separation of the two involved, and the procruer of the ritual was never seen again.
What if that happened to you?
//"$name..." they whisper, cradling your body in their arms. "Don't cry. Please, don't cry. I'll always be with you. I promise you won't be alone again." //
But you were alone. They lied, they broke their promise, they told you that you—
Exhale. You don't have time for this.
[[It's time to begin the ritual.]]//"To begin, first lay the object of binding upon the subject's torso. Next, repeat Lamentatio Mortuorum—the Lament of the Dead. Finally, kneel before completing the chant and offer the sacrifice. If all steps are completed to their full, The Great Beyond will hear your call." - Methodologica of Necromancy and Other Magick, p. 372//
You place (if: $binding is "photograph")[the polaroid] (if: $binding is "statue")[the wooden carving] upon Morgan's chest, right over where their heart used to be. Now for the chant. "Spirits of The Great Beyond, heed my call," you begin, the room stilling as if falling into a silent hush, though the only noise prior was those fluorescent lights you forgot to replace. "Though gone you may be, return to us all. Hark the still waters and cross the veil. Life and blood, fire and death." You waver. "...Morgan, heed my call."
Time to hope those words you chose were enough to pierce the haziness of the Ethereal Plane. (If: $chant is "baking")["Do you remember that afternoon in the kitchen? When you saw me trying not to cry as I told you I messed up your birthday cake? You said that this was the greatest gift you had ever gotten, and we ate that entire disaster. I've never been as happy as that moment. I just want one more memory like that."] (If: $chant is "kiss")["Do you remember our first kiss? We had just got off the ferris wheel, and I was trying not to throw up as you teased me relentlessly. I begged you to stop, but you said you could do this with me forever. Even though that kiss wasn't like the movies, it was the most special night of my life. Please, I just want one more kiss."] (If: $chant is "musical")["Is—god, I can't believe i'm saying this, but you loved this damn musical. Is he gay or European? I'd suffer through every second of this if you would just come back. Please, please, come back."] (If: $chant is "normal")["I've spent every damn second since you died wishing it was me instead. That you would finally realise for once in your life that I can't do this without you. I don't know who I am anymore, Morgan. All I know is I need you."] (If: $chant is "statuette")["Remember the statue you made for me? I remember when you gave it to me, you were so nervous. I told you that it didn't matter what you gave me, so long as it was from you. Please, come back. I want to be able to make you one too."]
Before you recite the final lines, you kneel, and prepare to sacrifice (if: $sacrifice is 3)[your necklace. You cradle it in your hands one last time.] (if: $sacrifice is 4)[your memories. You hesitate, before picturing your life in your mind. Playing with other orphans, meeting your friends, blushing at your awkward first kiss, Pople dying around you, your hands stained with blood, Morgan lying limp at your feet.] (if: $sacrifice is 5)[your soul. There's no going back from this, you know that. But it's worth it, if you could just see them one more time.]
"Life and blood, fire and death. Morgan, heed my call. Return to me, return to us all!"
The room goes dark, the fluorescent lights finally snuffed out. You think you see the outline of Morgan's body rising. Whispers begin to creep in from the walls—is that a skeletal hand? You're thrown backwards, out of the ritual, groaning as your bones protest at your movement. The room lights red, then green... and then everything stops.
[[Morgan is lying in the center of the sacrasant circle. Is their chest rising? You can't breathe. You stumble towards them, your every being praying it worked.]]As you step into the circle, your body freezes. You struggle against the invisible force, exercising your will, before you're plunged into an unfamiliar mindscape.
//You're dead. You know that with a certainity that belies everything here. You sacrificed yourself so that $name could live. You don't regret it—couldn't, if it meant (if: $name is "Luke")[he] (if: $name is "Lucy")[she] (if: $name is "Lux")[they] had to live without you. Your senses are murky, hazy, and you wander aimlessly throughout a giant plane, the ground (there is no ground here, some part of you knows, but it's a blurry realisation) wavering beneath you.
Your memories flicker in your mind, uncertain. You don't really know why you're here—you know only that you died so that $name could live. Throughout all of the fogginess in your head, though, one emotion burns bright within you: serenity. You're finally at peace, here. You feel as if you've lived a hard life, one wherein you had to fight every day to survive, and this is your reward.
Months go by, and you stay in this relative peace, content to wander the wastelands of this place (The Great Beyond, a forgotten part of you whispers). The great gate at the vestiges of your vision calls out to you, but you don't ever go through. You stay in this plane, calm, but with a notion that you've left something behind. Something that makes it so you can't quite pass on.//
[[You smile, faintly, at the memory of your... friend? A scene comes to the forefront of your mind, unbidden.]](if: $binding is "photograph" and $relationship is 1)[//You're laughing in a kitchen, evading as more cake batter is thrown your way. "Stop!" You squeal, as you finally get a load of flour in the face.
"Never!" $name shouts, as more is thrown your way. You dodge, and you step closer to your friend (best friend). (if: $name is "Luke")[He freezes] (if: $name is "Lucy")[She freezes] (if: $name is "Lux")[They freeze], stalling as you cradle $name in your hands. "This is the best gift you could've given me," you whisper, smiling as you receive a scowl in return. "It is! It shows you care. Thank you, darling."//
Morgan.
//You frown at that name. Is there someone named Morgan here? You shake your head, immersing yourself once more in the memory, before you hear it again.//
Morgan, heed my call! Return to me. Return to us all!
//You blink, as the scene in front of you morphs into a door. Something awaits you on the other side—an end to the peace you feel, but boundless possibilities in store.//]
(if: $binding is "photograph" and $relationship is 2)[//You're standing in the cold, smiling gently at your friend (your lover! your mind squeals), as the two of you exhale shakily. $name looks at you like they're drowning and you're the only thing keeping them afloat. You think you hear giggling in the distance.
"I mean it," you press, "I could do this forever with you." A blush is your response, and you squeal at (if: $name is "Luke")[his] (if: $name is "Lucy")[her] (if: $name is "Lux")[their] cuteness. This is the best night of your life.//
Morgan.
//You frown at that name. Is there someone named Morgan here? You shake your head, immersing yourself once more in the memory, before you hear it again.//
Morgan, heed my call! Return to me. Return to us all!
//You blink, as the scene in front of you morphs into a door. Something awaits you on the other side—an end to the peace you feel, but boundless possibilities in store.//]
(if: $binding is "statue")[//You're presenting a little wooden figure, nervous despite yourself. You know this is the best carving you've ever done, but you can't help but squeeze your eyes shut as you wait for $name's response.
When you don't hear anything for a few moments, you open your eyes, and see a tear fall down (if: $name is "Luke")[his] (if: $name is "Lucy")[her] (if: $name is "Lux")[their] face. You soften instantly, but you're overjoyed that $name feels so strongly about this little act of kindness. You swear to yourself that you'll make sure moments like this become normal. //
Morgan.
//You frown at that name. Is there someone named Morgan here? You shake your head, immersing yourself once more in the memory, before you hear it again.//
Morgan, heed my call! Return to me. Return to us all!
//You blink, as the scene in front of you morphs into a door. Something awaits you on the other side—an end to the peace you feel, but boundless possibilities in store.//]
[[Go through the door.]](if: $sacrifice is 3)[You open your eyes and see Morgan lying there, the necklace no longer in sight. You rush over to them, checking their pulse, and nearly faint when you hear a faint //tip-tap//. It worked! You gently shake them, hoping that they'll reach consciousness, but freeze when you hear a groan.
"Morgan?" You ask slowly, watching them for any further signs of strife. Whilst you do, you drink in their features, now slightly flushed with renewed vitality. You had forgotten what their face looked like in life—but now that you're here, you see their dark hair curling in on their face (you used to sweep their bangs aside fondly), their gray eyes (your little stormcloud), the tiny scar on their lip (you never let them live down that they tried to staple their lip as a child).
They start, and their eyes open hazily as another pained sound escapes them. "Morgan!" You repeat, scrambling to your knees as you frantically try to sense what's going on. You receive no answer from your searching, as their body begins to convulse. No, no, no. What's happening?
"...$name," you hear them whisper, their voice hoarse and tinged with pain. You wince slightly at how wrecked they sound, but for someone that just came back from the daed, you suppose you can't blame them.
"Morgan! What's happening?" Was... was the necklace not enough? Were they dying, again? Dying in your arms, blood seeping from them, a faint smile on their face, as they bled out and you could do nothing but watch—
[[Pore through the old tomes to find an answer.]]
[[Try to carry them to a different room, maybe a bed would be more comfortable?]]]
(if: $sacrifice is 4)[You open your eyes, and blink once when your eyes struggle to adjust from the harshness of the artificial light. What... what happened? You're dead. You know that, you think, but you feel so... alive. Your gaze drifts down unfocusedly, until they double take at what they see.
"...$name?" you murmur, watching as your (if: $relationship is 1)[best friend] (if: $relationship is 2)[partner] lies in the middle of a sacrasant circle. Oh, god, you think, your breath quickening as they (if: $name is "Luke")[he makes] (if: $name is "Lucy")[she makes] (if: $name is "Lux")[they make] no move to get up. You step forward, shakily, your mind flashing to the worst possible outcome—before you hear a groan as $name slowly gets up, confusedly blinking at the scene before (if: $name is "Luke")[his] (if: $name is "Lucy")[her] (if: $name is "Lux")[their] body creaks as it's stretched out.
$name looks up at you, and says something that destroys you, something that should be unfathomable from the person most important to you.
"Um... who are you?"
You freeze.
[["What... what are you talking about? We've known each other for a decade!"]]
[["Morgan," you say slowly, your expression confused.]]
[["Never mind who I am," you start, "let's talk about what in the world you just did."]]]
(if: $sacrifice is 5)[You step through the portal, and blink when your eyes shut from the harshness of the artificial light. What... is happening?
When you open them, you scream. $name is lying on the floor, comatose, in the center of a ritual circle. You... you were dead. Oh, oh my god. Your breath quickens, and your vision begins to blur. Did—did (if: $name is "Luke")[he] (if: $name is "Lucy")[she] (if: $name is "Lux")[they] attempt the Ritum Resurrectionis? You know you were dead, and now you're not.
What did $name sacrifice? Oh, no. You rush over to your (if: $relationship is 1)[best friend] (if:$relationship is 2)[partner] and kneel beside (if: $name is "Luke")[him] (if: $name is "Lucy")[her] (if: $name is "Lux")[them], frantically searching for a pulse. "No, no, no", you plead.
You wait for a few moments, and then a minute. $name is deathly still. (if: $name is "Luke")[his] (if: $name is "Lucy")[her] (if: $name is "Lux")[their] platnium locks lie behind like a halo, complementing the angelic serenity you see. A tear slips from your eye, and lands on their cheek.
'A soul for a soul,' and in giving you back yours, $name lost the same thing in return. Why, why did (if: $name is "Luke")[he] (if: $name is "Lucy")[she] (if: $name is "Lux")[they] do this? You're not worth this, not worth (if: $name is "Luke")[his] (if: $name is "Lucy")[her] (if: $name is "Lux")[their] fucking //soul//. How could $name be so stupid? You gave up yours so (if: $name is "Luke")[he] (if: $name is "Lucy")[she] (if: $name is "Lux")[they] could live! You have to find some way to reverse this.
[[Pore through the old tomes lying around the lab in hopes of finding a counter-measure.]]
[[Maybe you could try resuscitating?]]]You page through the old tomes, wincing every time Morgan lets out another groan or moan of pain. You need to go faster. One book has no answer, then another, until finally you find what you're looking for.
"//Be warned, for if Ritum Resurrectionis is undergone without a proper sacrifice, the person that is returned from The Great Beyond may not be brought whole: they may be missing memories, lifespan, limbs, or they may be not be fully in this world. The consequences are not fully known." - The Ritum Resurrectionis Explored, p. 42//
Well—what the fuck? Does this mean that Morgan is... missing something? They spasm again, and you teeth at the sight. They look so uncomfortable on the floor, but you need to figure out what's going on with them.
"...Morgan," you say timidly, "what's happening to you?" They would know best what's going on, after all.
They open their mouth, their face twisting in pain. "I... Where am I? $name—" they break off into a coughing fit, before attempting to continue. "I d-don't feel right."
Shit. Does this mean...
[["The ritual," you begin slowly, "what I sacrificed may not have been enough."]]
[["God-dammit," you swear, "what's happening to you? Talk to me!"]]
[["Morgan... I'm so sorry," you start, your voice beginning to shake. "I think I messed up."]]You hurriedly pick them up, wincing when they groan in protest, before taking them gently from the sterile lab into one of the bedrooms in your house—a bedroom that you two had used to share. How ironic.
Their face is flushed the whole way, and they start muttering under their breath, things you can't catch, their body spasming in pain ever so often. You shush them, placing a kiss upon their forehead, and walk faster.
You reach the door to your bedroom, double-taking at the design—you hadn't slept in here since Morgan died. There's still the Metallica poster that Morgan loved, the various postcards from places you two have traveled, the few sketches you drew that Morgan begged you to frame, even though you were self-conscious.
You place them gently under the covers on the bedsheet, and drape them over your (if: $relationship is 1)[best friend] (if: $relationship is 2)[partner]. You look at them fondly, for a moment, basking in the person you lost what feels like so long ago. They look marginally more comfortable, here, but you still need to understand what's going on.
[["Morgan..." you begin, "what's happening to you? Explain it to me, please."]]
[["I need you to talk to me," you say firmly, "what are you feeling?"]]
[["I... I know you're in pain," you say, twisting the ring on your finger, "but why?"]]You desperately page through the haphazard tomes lying throughout the room, praying that you'll find something on how to reverse this ritual that $name foolishly enacted. What you find, though, is not what you wanted to hear.
"//Once enacted, Ritum Resurrectionis can not be un-done. The sacrifice is considered permanent. Therefore, should you attempt to undergo this ritual, consider that the ramifications are long-lasting."//
You slump to the floor, defeated, and take in a deep breath. Why did (if: $name is "Luke")[he] (if: $name is "Lucy")[she] (if: $name is "Lux")[they] do this to you? You were content with what you did, content with being dead. You had sacrificed yourself for a good cause. And now $name has gone and fucking reversed the situation, gave away a soul in return for yours. What twisted irony.
A dark, forgotten part of you whispers that (if: $name is "Luke")[he] (if: $name is "Lucy")[she] (if: $name is "Lux")[they] should've killed someone instead of offering up (if: $name is "Luke")[his] (if: $name is "Lucy")[her] (if: $name is "Lux")[their] own, never should have assumed that you would be okay with this trade. What are you supposed to do now? Pretend like you haven't been dead for... some time, that you're supposed to live on knowing that $name ripped you from your peace and left you all alone.
You supposed you did the same thing to (if: $name is "Luke")[him] (if: $name is "Lucy")[her] (if: $name is "Lux")[them], but god-dammit you didn't //want// to. It was you or (if: $name is "Luke")[him] (if: $name is "Lucy")[her] (if: $name is "Lux")[them]. And now you're alive, when you were at peace with your death, without (if: $relationship is 1)[your other half] (if: $relationship is 2)[the love of your life].
What are you supposed to do?
[[Try to move on and live your life like your darling wanted.]]
[[Continue the cycle, and search for a way to reverse this. No matter how long it takes.]]You don't really have any medical equipment around here that you can see, other than the cryo-chamber in the corner. Regardless, you attempt to resuscitate $name, attempting the basic CPR you've mastered in your years of fighting and surviving. You try, and try, and try for what seems like hours, but nothing happens. (if: $name is "Luke")[He's] (if: $name is "Lucy")[She's] (if: $name is "Lux")[They're] gone.
You slump to the floor, defeated, and take in a deep breath. Why did (if: $name is "Luke")[he] (if: $name is "Lucy")[she] (if: $name is "Lux")[they] do this to you? You were content with what you did, content with being dead. You had sacrificed yourself for a good cause. And now $name has gone and fucking reversed the situation, gave away a soul in return for yours. What twisted irony.
A dark, forgotten part of you whispers that (if: $name is "Luke")[he] (if: $name is "Lucy")[she] (if: $name is "Lux")[they] should've killed someone instead of offering up (if: $name is "Luke")[his] (if: $name is "Lucy")[her] (if: $name is "Lux")[their] own, never should have assumed that you would be okay with this trade. What are you supposed to do now? Pretend like you haven't been dead for... some time, that you're supposed to live on knowing that $name ripped you from your peace and left you all alone.
You supposed you did the same thing to (if: $name is "Luke")[him] (if: $name is "Lucy")[her] (if: $name is "Lux")[them], but god-dammit you didn't //want// to. It was you or (if: $name is "Luke")[him] (if: $name is "Lucy")[her] (if: $name is "Lux")[them]. And now you're alive, when you were at peace with your death, without (if: $relationship is 1)[your other half] (if: $relationship is 2)[the love of your life].
What are you supposed to do?
[[Try to move on and live your life like your darling wanted.]]
[[Continue the cycle, and search for a way to reverse this. No matter how long it takes.]]$name looks at you, before you're greeted by a shake of a head. "No... I've never met you. I would remember you, I think,"(if: $name is "Luke")[he says] (if: $name is "Lucy")[she says] (if: $name is "Lux")[they say], looking you up and down. You don't know if you've ever felt the urge to laugh or throw up more than right now. What did $name do?
You look down at the floor, at the discarded $binding on the floor, at the ritualistic circle. (if: $name is "Luke")[He] (if: $name is "Lucy")[She] (if: $name is "Lux")[They] clearly did Ritum Resurrectionis, the Ritual of Resurrection, and to do that... you wrack your brain. You were never the best at this stuff. You had $name for that, you think sadly.
They would need to sacrifice something, and given that your (if: $relationship is 1)[best friend] (if: $relationship is 2)[partner] seemingly doesn't remember you... it must've been (if: $name is "Luke")[his] (if: $name is "Lucy")[her] (if: $name is "Lux")[their] memories. Fuck.
"Did you sacrifice your fucking //memories//, $name?" You shout, looking at (if: $name is "Luke")[him] (if: $name is "Lucy")[her] (if: $name is "Lux")[them].
$name looks at you confused. "How do you know my name? And what do you mean—" before finishing the sentence, (if: $name is "Luke")[he looks] (if: $name is "Lucy")[she looks] (if: $name is "Lux")[they look] struck. "Oh my god."
[["Do you not remember me anymore?" You ask, horrified.]]
[["You... gave up your memories," you say numbly. "It must've taken your memories of me.]]$name looks at you confused. "What? What I did? Can we talk about why you're in my house?" You have to catch yourself before you correct my with //our//. This is so strange. You need to figure out why your (if: $relationship is 1)[best friend] (if: $relationship is 2)[partner] is acting like this.
You look down at the floor, at the discarded $binding on the floor, at the ritualistic circle. (if: $name is "Luke")[He] (if: $name is "Lucy")[She] (if: $name is "Lux")[They] clearly did Ritum Resurrectionis, the Ritual of Resurrection, and to do that... you wrack your brain. You were never the best at this stuff. You had $name for that, you think sadly.
They would need to sacrifice something, and given that your (if: $relationship is 1)[best friend] (if: $relationship is 2)[partner] seemingly doesn't remember you... it must've been (if: $name is "Luke")[his] (if: $name is "Lucy")[her] (if: $name is "Lux")[their] memories. Fuck.
"Did you sacrifice your fucking //memories//, $name?" You shout, looking at (if: $name is "Luke")[him] (if: $name is "Lucy")[her] (if: $name is "Lux")[them].
$name looks at you confused. "How do you know my name? And what do you mean—" before finishing the sentence, (if: $name is "Luke")[he looks] (if: $name is "Lucy")[she looks] (if: $name is "Lux")[they look] struck. "Oh my god."
[["Do you not remember me anymore?" You ask, horrified.]]
[["You... gave up your memories," you say numbly. "It must've taken your memories of me.]]No. You were torn from your slumber, from your aberrant peace, and you won't allow $name to give themselves up. You have scarce else to live for; after all, you don't know how you're supposed to live a life you don't want to live without your (if: $relationship is 1)[best friend] (if: $relationship is 2)[partner].
You need to find a way to bring (if: $name is "Luke")[him] (if: $name is "Lucy")[her] (if: $name is "Lux")[them] back. It doesn't matter if the ritual is done, if you need to spend the rest of whatever life you were given to reverse this—you have to try. It was cruel to force you to live without (if: $name is "Luke")[him] (if: $name is "Lucy")[her] (if: $name is "Lux")[them], and you refuse to do so.
It is ironic that this is likely why $name did this, but you were dead, and (if: $name is "Luke")[he was] (if: $name is "Lucy")[she was] (if: $name is "Lux")[they were] not. You suppose you're continuing the cycle, in a way, by doing this, but—dammit, you want them back. You died so (if: $name is "Luke")[he] (if: $name is "Lucy")[she] (if: $name is "Lux")[they] could live, not so that you were forced to live without (if: $name is "Luke")[him] (if: $name is "Lucy")[her] (if: $name is "Lux")[them].
Whatever it takes, no matter how long it takes, you'll spend the rest of your ill-begotten life trying to bring $name back. You sit there, for a moment, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. You never wanted this. Never wanted to be torn from your death and thrust into a world without your $name. But (if: $name is "Luke")[he] (if: $name is "Lucy")[she] (if: $name is "Lux")[they] did this for a reason, and you can't spend the rest of your life trying to do the same thing. You have a feeling it wouldn't be so simple as what (if: $name is "Luke")[he] (if: $name is "Lucy")[she] (if: $name is "Lux")[they] did. $name was always smarter than you were, anyway.
You'll see (if: $name is "Luke")[him] (if: $name is "Lucy")[her] (if: $name is "Lux")[them], one day. But until then, you have a life to live. You didn't want to be given it back, but now that you have it, you won't disrespect what $name sacrificed to bring you back. A soul for a soul...
You weren't worth this, you mourn. But you have it now, and you need to make the most of it. It's what $name wanted. "W-what?" They respond, coughing. "Why—why did you even do it. I w-was at... peace," they finish, closing their eyes.
You grimace, your face twisting. "I wasn't. I'm sorry, Morgan. I didn't want this to happen. But I just... I wanted you back." Why did they think you could live without them?
They nod hazily. "I don't feel... here?" Well. That's not ideal. The tome said the person brought back may not fully be in this world. Does this mean... Morgan is trapped between the dead and the living? Is that why they're in pain?
You open your mouth, then close it in surprise when they continue. "I'm—it feels like I'm being torn apart, $name," they whisper, tears pooling in their eyes. "It's... not fair t-to ask, but..."
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, you think, why is this what happened? This isn't how you wanted to bring them back. You brought them back to live, not to suffer. "Morgan," you say in response, hesitantly looking at them.
"P-put me out of my misery."
What.
[["What the fuck? No! How could you ask that of me?" You ask, though you take care to control your volume.]]
[["... you don't know what you're asking, Morgan," you murmur. "I just got you back."]]Their eyes flash in annoyance for a moment. "I-I don't //know//, $name," they mutter, "I feel... horrible."
Was this because you sacrificed your necklace? Was this the price of playing it safe? "I'm—sorry, Morgan," you say mournfully. "I didn't mean to yell at you."
They nod hazily. "I don't feel... here?" Well. That's not ideal. The tome said the person brought back may not fully be in this world. Does this mean... Morgan is trapped between the dead and the living? Is that why they're in pain?
You open your mouth, then close it in surprise when they continue. "I'm—it feels like I'm being torn apart, $name," they whisper, tears pooling in their eyes. "It's... not fair t-to ask, but..."
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, you think, why is this what happened? This isn't how you wanted to bring them back. You brought them back to live, not to suffer. "Morgan," you say in response, hesitantly looking at them.
"P-put me out of my misery."
What.
[["What the fuck? No! How could you ask that of me?" You ask, though you take care to control your volume.]]
[["... you don't know what you're asking, Morgan," you murmur. "I just got you back."]]"I—I know, $name," they murmur, "but I was... at peace. I was okay with it."
"I wasn't," you respond quietly. "I can't do this without you Morgan. But I didn't want you in pain." Didn't want you spasming, suffering, twitching in pain.
They nod hazily. "I don't feel... here?" Well. That's not ideal. The tome said the person brought back may not fully be in this world. Does this mean... Morgan is trapped between the dead and the living? Is that why they're in pain?
You open your mouth, then close it in surprise when they continue. "I'm—it feels like I'm being torn apart, $name," they whisper, tears pooling in their eyes. "It's... not fair t-to ask, but..."
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, you think, why is this what happened? This isn't how you wanted to bring them back. You brought them back to live, not to suffer. "Morgan," you say in response, hesitantly looking at them.
"P-put me out of my misery."
What.
[["What the fuck? No! How could you ask that of me?" You ask, though you take care to control your volume.]]
[["... you don't know what you're asking, Morgan," you murmur. "I just got you back."]]Their expression twists. "First," they begin, "explain to me what //you// did." Well, that's a whole can of worms.
"I... I brought you back. Ritum Resurrectionis, But—maybe what I sacrificed wasn't enough." They're alive, at least, you think. But when you look at them, you know they're not whole. Something is gravely wrong.
"$name," they whisper, their voice strained, "I was at peace. I know what I did wasn't fair to you, but I was okay with dying if it meant you could live." Maybe they were, but you weren't. You couldn't stand the sympathy, the pitying looks, the way you always looked to the side as if Morgan were right there.
"Do you," you say, your voice shaking. "Do you not want to be with me again? Alive?"
Their expression softens, and they look at you gently. "Of course I do, $name. There's nothing I would want more. But—" they gesture weakly to themselves, their body still contorting with pain. "If what you sacrificed wasn't enough, then I didn't come back wholly. I feel... torn. Like I'm both dead and alive." They pause, looking at you.
"I know this isn't fair to ask of you," Morgan whispers, "but I need you to send me back."
[["What the fuck? No! How could you ask that of me?" You ask, though you take care to control your volume.]]
[["... you don't know what you're asking, Morgan," you murmur. "I just got you back."]]"I—I don't know," they mutter. "It's agony. But... what did //you// do? Why?"
"I... I brought you back. Ritum Resurrectionis, But—maybe what I sacrificed wasn't enough." They're alive, at least, you think. But when you look at them, you know they're not whole. Something is gravely wrong.
"$name," they whisper, their voice strained, "I was at peace. I know what I did wasn't fair to you, but I was okay with dying if it meant you could live." Maybe they were, but you weren't. You couldn't stand the sympathy, the pitying looks, the way you always looked to the side as if Morgan were right there.
"Do you," you say, your voice shaking. "Do you not want to be with me again? Alive?"
Their expression softens, and they look at you gently. "Of course I do, $name. There's nothing I would want more. But—" they gesture weakly to themselves, their body still contorting with pain. "If what you sacrificed wasn't enough, then I didn't come back wholly. I feel... torn. Like I'm both dead and alive." They pause, looking at you.
"I know this isn't fair to ask of you," Morgan whispers, "but I need you to send me back."
[["What the fuck? No! How could you ask that of me?" You ask, though you take care to control your volume.]]
[["... you don't know what you're asking, Morgan," you murmur. "I just got you back."]]They pause, looking so, so small under the covers. So more fragile then they did before they died, when they were always so full of life. "Pain," they murmur. "It feels like I'm being torn apart."
Fuck. The necklace definitely wasn't enough. "I... I brought you back. Ritum Resurrectionis, But—maybe what I sacrificed wasn't enough." They're alive, at least, you think. But when you look at them, you know they're not whole. Something is gravely wrong.
"$name," they whisper, their voice strained, "I was at peace. I know what I did wasn't fair to you, but I was okay with dying if it meant you could live." Maybe they were, but you weren't. You couldn't stand the sympathy, the pitying looks, the way you always looked to the side as if Morgan were right there.
"Do you," you say, your voice shaking. "Do you not want to be with me again? Alive?"
Their expression softens, and they look at you gently. "Of course I do, $name. There's nothing I would want more. But—" they gesture weakly to themselves, their body still contorting with pain. "If what you sacrificed wasn't enough, then I didn't come back wholly. I feel... torn. Like I'm both dead and alive." They pause, looking at you.
"I know this isn't fair to ask of you," Morgan whispers, "but I need you to send me back."
[["What the fuck? No! How could you ask that of me?" You ask, though you take care to control your volume.]]
[["... you don't know what you're asking, Morgan," you murmur. "I just got you back."]]"I didn't ask for this either," Morgan shouts, before devolving into a spasm of pain. You wince. What the hell are you supposed to do? Kill them by your own hands, when you just got them back? Or... let them live in misery, hoping you could //maybe// find some way to fix this, whilst they suffer every day, torn between planes. Fuck.
"...I'm sorry, Morgan," you whisper, "but I can't kill you. You can't ask that of me." It's one thing to watch them die, and another thing entirely to do it with your own hands.
They shake their head slightly at you. "I can't do it myself, $name," they murmur, eyes glossed with pain, "and you're the only person I trust to do it. Please. Let me go."
Let them go... like it's so simple. "You're my fucking (if: $relationship is 1)[best friend](if: $relationship is 2)[partner]," you say, your voice cracking. This is an impossible thing to ask of you. But... is it worth making them stay, if they'll be forced to live a life until their body fails from trauma?
Fuck.
[[Put Morgan out of their misery. For good.]]
[[No. You'll find a way to fix this. You can't let them die again.]]They shake their head. "I do," they whisper, their timbre coloured with pain. "And I'm sorry that I'm asking this of you, $name. I am." You shakily put your head in your hands. What the hell are you supposed to do? Kill them by your own hands, when you just got them back? Or... let them live in misery, hoping you could //maybe// find some way to fix this, whilst they suffer every day, torn between planes. Fuck.
"...I'm sorry, Morgan," you whisper, "but I can't kill you. You can't ask that of me." It's one thing to watch them die, and another thing entirely to do it with your own hands.
They shake their head slightly at you. "I can't do it myself, $name," they murmur, eyes glossed with pain, "and you're the only person I trust to do it. Please. Let me go."
Let them go... like it's so simple. "You're my fucking (if: $relationship is 1)[best friend](if: $relationship is 2)[partner]," you say, your voice cracking. This is an impossible thing to ask of you. But... is it worth making them stay, if they'll be forced to live a life until their body fails from trauma?
Fuck.
[[Put Morgan out of their misery. For good.]]
[[No. You'll find a way to fix this. You can't let them die again.]]"And you're my everything, (if: $relationship is 1)[hon](if: $relationship is 2)[love]." Tears pool at the corner of your eyes when you hear that. Your (if: $relationship is 1)[best friend](if: $relationship is 2)[partner], finally saying the things you've been dreaming about for the last half-year. And you're never going to hear them again.
"Okay," you murmur shakily, drawing yourself to stand, looking down at Morgan. At the person you brought back to life, only to send them back into death. "I'll do it."
They smile at you weakly, and nod their head. "...Thank you, $name. I know this—this isn't fair. But I'll see you again. (if: $relationship is 1)[We'll always be best friends, forever.] (if: $relationship is 2)[You'll always be my brilliant shining star, my love.]" Their voice wavers when they finish, and you know this is your final goodbye.
You look at the site of the person you loved, and the person you lost. You brought them back to life, but it wasn't enough. And now you're going to lose them again.
But at least they'll be at peace, finally. You can fix your mistake in tearing them from The Great Beyond, and they can finally move on.
"Wait for me?" You say, looking at Morgan for the last time.
They smile at you, their eyes both sad and relieved. "Always, $name. Always." "And you're my everything, (if: $relationship is 1)[hon](if: $relationship is 2)[love]." Tears pool at the corner of your eyes when you hear that. Your (if: $relationship is 1)[best friend](if: $relationship is 2)[partner], finally saying the things you've been dreaming about for the last half-year. And they want you to never hear that again.
"No," you whisper silently, and then repeat with force. "No. I won't let you die, Morgan."
They shake their head fiercely, juxtaposing the tremors running through their form. "$name... you're brilliant, I know that. But you can't fix this." But you //can//, you think. You brought them back from the dead. You can fix what you broke.
Because the alternative is losing Morgan. The person you loved, lost, and brought back. You can't lose them again. You hope you're making the right choice.
"I will, Morgan. I swear it to you. I'll fix this." You say this resolutely, as if there was never any doubt.
And you hope you're right, because if you're not, you're dooming them to a half-life of suffering, of tearing them from their peace into agony.
But they're alive. That's all that matters. $name's expression twists. "Who?" You don't think a single word has ever wanted to make you cry more.
"Morgan," you repeat. "(if: $relationship is 1)[Your best friend since childhood?] (if: $relationship is 2)[Your partner of many years?]" You're horrified when they stare at you blankly. What is happening?
You look down at the floor, at the discarded $binding on the floor, at the ritualistic circle. (if: $name is "Luke")[He] (if: $name is "Lucy")[She] (if: $name is "Lux")[They] clearly did Ritum Resurrectionis, the Ritual of Resurrection, and to do that... you wrack your brain. You were never the best at this stuff. You had $name for that, you think sadly.
They would need to sacrifice something, and given that your (if: $relationship is 1)[best friend] (if: $relationship is 2)[partner] seemingly doesn't remember you... it must've been (if: $name is "Luke")[his] (if: $name is "Lucy")[her] (if: $name is "Lux")[their] memories. Fuck.
"Did you sacrifice your fucking //memories//, $name?" You shout, looking at (if: $name is "Luke")[him] (if: $name is "Lucy")[her] (if: $name is "Lux")[them].
$name looks at you confused. "How do you know my name? And what do you mean—" before finishing the sentence, (if: $name is "Luke")[he looks] (if: $name is "Lucy")[she looks] (if: $name is "Lux")[they look] struck. "Oh my god."
[["Do you not remember me anymore?" You ask, horrified.]]
[["You... gave up your memories," you say numbly. "It must've taken your memories of me.]](if: $name is "Luke")[He] (if: $name is "Lucy")[She] (if: $name is "Lux")[They] step back, (if: $name is "Luke")[his](if: $name is "Lucy")[her](if: $name is "Lux")[their] face turning pale. "I... I don't know. I remember—a ritual. Trying to bring someone back. And... this sense of loss." You're speechless.
This cannot be happening. $name brought you back from the dead, tore you from your peace, in exchange for (if: $name is "Luke")[his] (if: $name is "Lucy")[her] (if: $name is "Lux")[their] memories of you. It's almost absurd enough to be funny, if tears weren't starting to pool at the corner of your eyes. "Do you really not remember me, $name? Anything?" Please, please don't say yes.
You receive a helpless look. "When I look at you—it feels as if I //should// know you. That you should be important to me... but I don't know you. I'm sorry."
You stare at your (if $relationship is 1)[best friend] (if $relationship is 2)[partner], at the (if: $name is "Luke")[boy] (if: $name is "Lucy")[girl] (if: $name is "Lux")[person] you've known for longer than you can remember. At someone who doesn't remember you, anymore. What are you supposed to do now?
Try to re-connect with someone who will never remember what you used to be, with someone that you'll always be comparing to who you used to know. Forever chasing the shadow of someone who no longer exists. Or leaving (if: $name is "Luke")[him] (if: $name is "Lucy")[her] (if: $name is "Lux")[them] to (if: $name is "Luke")[his] (if: $name is "Lucy")[her] (if: $name is "Lux")[their] fate, and abandoning the person you love. Giving up on (if: $name is "Luke")[him](if: $name is "Lucy")[her](if: $name is "Lux")[them]. You can build new memories, surely... but will you ever be able to forget the old? You died so $name could live. How do you move past that with someone who doesn't remember the bond you shared?
[[Try to build a new life, build new memories with your oldest and dearest companion.]]
[[Move on from someone who you could never truly see as anyone but the shadow of who you used to know.]](if: $name is "Luke")[He steps] (if: $name is "Lucy")[She steps] (if: $name is "Lux")[They step] back, (if: $name is "Luke")[his](if: $name is "Lucy")[her](if: $name is "Lux")[their] face turning pale. "No... I couldn't have done that!"
You look at $name sadly. "What do you see, when you look at me? What do you remember?"
(if: $name is "Luke")[He] (if: $name is "Lucy")[She] (if: $name is "Lux")[They] look at you helplessly. "I feel... a profound sense of loss. I remember doing—a ritual, I think. Feeling like something was torn from me. But... nothing more."
This cannot be happening. $name brought you back from the dead, tore you from your peace, in exchange for (if: $name is "Luke")[his] (if: $name is "Lucy")[her] (if: $name is "Lux")[their] memories of you. It's almost absurd enough to be funny, if tears weren't starting to pool at the corner of your eyes. "Do you really not remember me, $name? Anything?" Please, please don't say yes.
You receive a hapless look. "When I look at you—it feels as if I //should// know you. That you should be important to me... but I don't know you. I'm sorry."
You stare at your (if $relationship is 1)[best friend] (if $relationship is 2)[partner], at the (if: $name is "Luke")[boy] (if: $name is "Lucy")[girl] (if: $name is "Lux")[person] you've known for longer than you can remember. At someone who doesn't remember you, anymore. What are you supposed to do now?
Try to re-connect with someone who will never remember what you used to be, with someone that you'll always be comparing to who you used to know. Forever chasing the shadow of someone who no longer exists. Or leaving (if: $name is "Luke")[him] (if: $name is "Lucy")[her] (if: $name is "Lux")[them] to (if: $name is "Luke")[his] (if: $name is "Lucy")[her] (if: $name is "Lux")[their] fate, and abandoning the person you love. Giving up on (if: $name is "Luke")[him](if: $name is "Lucy")[her](if: $name is "Lux")[them]. You can build new memories, surely... but will you ever be able to forget the old? You died so $name could live. How do you move past that with someone who doesn't remember the bond you shared?
[[Try to build a new life, build new memories with your oldest and dearest companion.]]
[[Move on from someone who you could never truly see as anyone but the shadow of who you used to know.]]You look at $name again, truly drinking in the visage of the one person you never thought you would get to see again. And you know that you'd never be able to move on from who you used to know. It wouldn't be fair to either of you if you stayed, tried to force a new relationship when you'd still be clinging to the ghosts of your pasts. That's now how you build new memories. Maybe one day, but for today...
You lower your head, your eyes hooded. It hurts. Gods, does it hurt. This is the (if: $relationship is 1)[$name you've known since you were children. The only one that you know inside out, that you trusted with anything.](if: $relationship is 2)[love of your life. The one that you thought you'd get married to, one day. That you'd never have to live without.] A tear slips from your eye, falling silently onto the floor. You step back, away from the confused face of $name as (if: $name is "Luke")[he] (if: $name is "Lucy")[she] (if: $name is "Lux")[they] look at you, (if: $name is "Luke")[his] (if: $name is "Lucy")[her] (if: $name is "Lux")[their] face contorting in relief and pain.
You turn around, no longer able to look at the site of your greatest loss. You can't look at (if: $name is "Luke")[him] (if: $name is "Lucy")[her] (if: $name is "Lux")[them] without seeing //your// $name. But they'll never be truly yours again. You walk slowly throughout the house that used to be yours and $name's, through the safe haven that you can't stand to look at anymore. You step through the doorstep without (if: $relationship is 1)[your best friend] (if: $relationship is 2)[your partner], and step out into the unknown alone.
You love $name, and now you'll have to let them go. Even if $name will never be the person you remember, you loved (if: $name is "Luke")[him] (if: $name is "Lucy")[her] (if: $name is "Lux")[them] once. You can do it again, even if you'll never be able to forget what you used to have. (if: $name is "Luke")[He's] (if: $name is "Lucy")[She's] (if: $name is "Lux")[They're] still your $name, after all.
You reach out a hand to the (if: $name is "Luke")[boy] (if: $name is "Lucy")[girl] (if: $name is "Lux")[person] who forgot you, to someone who you thought you'd never again see in life. But your brilliant shining star has found a way to re-unite the two of you again, even if in return (if: $name is "Luke")[he] (if: $name is "Lucy")[she] (if: $name is "Lux")[they] paid a terrible price. $name takes it after a moment, blinking at you confusedly.
"Even if you don't remember me," you start, injecting cheer into your voice, "we can make new memories!" Just don't think about what you've lost, you think. The many years of knowing $name inside out, of being known in return. You have (if: $name is "Luke")[him] (if: $name is "Lucy")[her] (if: $name is "Lux")[them] back now, even if you didn't intend to. Even though you were at peace. You'll make the most of it.
"O-kay," your (if: $relationship is 1)[best friend](if: $relationship is 2)[partner] responds, smiling bemusedly. "I'll follow you."
//"I'll follow you 'til the ends of the earth, Morgs," $name says, smiling crookedly at you. "I'm always with you."//
Maybe there's still a little bit of the $name you used to know in there, or maybe you're projecting. Regardless, you take (if: $name is "Luke")[his] (if: $name is "Lucy")[her] (if: $name is "Lux")[their] hand, and drag them off into the unknown.