Steven watched himself floating in the air in his pink form. Since his conversation with Garnet, he felt freer. Garnet passed by from time to time, keeping a watchful eye on Peridot, who always seemed nervous.
I was always nearby, since I didn't know where he kept the Diamond Contact, so I had to be alert, although I didn't think it was before the Cluster.
Steven opened his eyes and looked at Lapis, who was playing Minecraft next to him.
"Have you finished the game yet?" Steven asked as he climbed down to the ceiling, since he was above it.
"Find the game?" Lapis asked, confused. "Is that even possible?"
...
Steven didn't say anything and climbed back down to the ground, since he wanted to see how things were going with the Cluster.
"Hey! You're leaving me hanging like this!" Lapis said as she climbed down and walked beside Steven, but she noticed how he was staring intently at the whiteboard.
"Huh?" said Pencil as he looked at the equations and drawings of a drill.
"Boring," said Pencil as he flew back up to the ceiling.
Steven was just looking at some of the equations, which he understood, but he noticed that at some point they changed, with other mathematical and physical equations mixed in.
"What's going on?" said Pearl as she approached from a solid iron plate.
"Nothing," said Steven as he looked at the whiteboard.
Steven stood in front of the whiteboard for a few more seconds, silently observing those equations that didn't quite make sense to him. He didn't say anything. He closed his eyes for a moment and let out a quiet sigh, one of those that carries no weight, only weariness.
Pearl settled down beside him, crossing her arms in a straight posture, as if simply being near the project forced her to maintain composure.
"The drill is progressing well," she said carefully, measuring each word. "Peridot has made significant adjustments to the drilling. It's not perfect, but it's functional."
Peridot, who was sitting on the floor surrounded by various metal parts, jerked her head up at the sound of her name. Her visor flashed with restrained pride.
"Obviously, it's working well," she said, trying to sound confident. "It's drilling technology adapted to an unstable core. Not just anyone can do that." Then she lowered her voice slightly. "Although... there's still room for error."
Amethyst was leaning against one of the barn walls, chewing on something that probably wasn't food. She watched the scene with a half-smile, swaying back and forth.
"So, it's not going to explode... much?" she said calmly.
Peridot stared at her in horror.
"It shouldn't explode at all!" she replied agitatedly, waving her hands. "If it explodes, it means we all die, Amethyst."
"Oh, well," she shrugged. "Then everything's normal."
Pearl closed her eyes for a second, taking a deep breath before speaking again.
"The drill's objective isn't to destroy the cluster," she explained, more calmly, "but to get close enough for Steven to intervene. Precision is crucial."
Steven listened without interrupting, leaning against a beam. His pink form was no longer present, but the calm energy remained, almost imperceptible.
"The core is still reacting," Peridot continued, pointing to some makeshift graphs. "It's not moving like it used to, but it's still... conscious. That makes it unpredictable."
Amethyst stopped joking for a moment and glanced sideways at Steven.
"Hey," she said more gently, "you don't have to do it now, you know? If you feel something's off, we stop."
Steven shook his head slowly.
"No," he replied calmly. "I just want it to be as good as possible before I go down. I don't want to improvise down there."
Pearl nodded, understanding immediately.
"Then we'll keep adjusting," she said. "No rush. We'll do it right this time."
Peridot refocused on her tools, murmuring calculations under her breath, while Amethyst returned to her relaxed position, though still keeping a watchful eye.
The atmosphere remained calm. There was no tension, no shouting, no rushing. Just gems working, talking, existing together.
And for the first time in a long time, Steven felt that everything was progressing... as it should.
Peridot stood still for a few seconds, holding a metal piece in her hands. She wasn't trembling anymore, but her posture was rigid, as if she expected something to go wrong at any moment.
Steven approached slowly and crouched beside her, without invading her space.
"What's wrong?" he asked calmly.
Peridot hesitated before speaking. Her fingers gripped the piece tightly.
"It's not the drill," she said, her voice quieter than usual. "It's... all of this. The Earth. The project. You." She raised her gaze only slightly. "If I fail here, there's no empire to back me up. There's... nothing."
Steven was silent for a moment, truly listening.
"When I first came here," Peridot continued, "this planet was just useless mud. Now..." She frowned. "Now I don't know what it is. And that scares me."
Steven smiled a lopsided smile, a tired but sincere one.
"That means you don't see it as a goal anymore," he said. "You see it as a place."
Peridot blinked, confused.
"You don't have to be perfect," Steven continued. "Or save the planet, or prove anything. Just... do what you know how to do. Make mistakes if you have to."
Peridot looked at him more closely.
"You're not a tool here," he added. "You're Peridot. And as strange as that may sound, that's enough."
Peridot swallowed. Her visor glowed a little dimmer.
"And what if I still fail?" she asked quietly.
Steven shrugged.
"Then we fail together," he replied without hesitation. "But you won't be discarded for that. Nobody does that here."
There was a short silence. Peridot lowered her gaze, took a deep breath, and placed the piece on the ground more carefully than usual.
"This planet is still strange," she murmured. "But... I guess I can try to feel safe here."
Steven stood up slowly.
"That's enough for now," he said.
Peridot nodded once and returned to her work, this time with her hands a little less tense.
And as Steven walked away, he knew that this little conversation had carried more weight than any equation on the blackboard.
Steven leaned forward a little more before leaving and, careful that no one else could hear, approached Peridot's side.
"Oh, yeah," he said in a barely audible whisper, just for her. "If you ever feel uncomfortable about your appearance... or about the fusion thing, or anything you don't understand yet, come with me."
Peridot froze for a second, surprised.
"I'll be nearby," Steven continued in the same low tone. "You don't have to carry this alone, or pretend it doesn't affect you. You can talk to me anytime."
Peridot didn't respond right away. She just nodded very slowly, her cheeks slightly tense, as if she didn't quite know what to make of those words.
"Thank you... Steven," she murmured finally.
Steven straightened up and walked away as if nothing had happened, leaving her there, working in silence... but this time, with a small sense of support she'd never felt before.
I hope she's calm, I told myself. Being in my pink form feels unnerving, but since talking to Garnet, I've felt better. I glanced toward the barn, watching a Pencil playing without a care in the world, a Pearl arguing with an Amethyst as if the world couldn't end today, and Garnet, who had arrived sometime without me noticing.
I shook my head and walked quite a distance, heading for a place I knew well. Not because I wanted to be alone, but because I knew I needed to be for what I planned to do.
I wanted to call Pearl, but fear stopped me. Fear of saying the wrong thing, fear of breaking her even more than she already was.
Then the memory returned, clear and heavy. My gem showing me an image I didn't want to see: Pink Diamond losing control, shattering her former Pearl, reducing her to something that would later end up under White Diamond's control.
I clenched my fists without realizing it.
Perhaps that's why I hesitated so much. Perhaps that's why the fear lingered.
I reached a peaceful clearing. A small lake stretched out before me, its surface reflecting the warm hues of the sunset. The wind barely stirred the grass, and for a moment, everything seemed silent. I lowered my feet until they touched the damp earth, feeling the coolness of the grass and the scent of water and wet soil. I sat facing the lake, crossed my legs, and slowly closed my eyes.
"Breathe, Steven... breathe..." I murmured to myself, my voice sounding strange in my pink form, a high-pitched whisper, a little louder than usual. I felt my energy vibrate throughout my body, reminding me that every emotion, every repressed or ignored thought, was ready to surface.
Images began to flash through my mind. First, memories of my mother, Rose, before everything went wrong with the Gems. I saw her smiling, stroking my face when I was little, her voice whispering that everything would be alright. It reminded me how strong she was, not just as a leader, but as someone capable of loving despite the pain.
But the image immediately shifted. I saw her enraged, shattering her former Pearl for disobeying her orders. That sight made my fists clench, and a murmur escaped my lips: "Damn... what the hell..." The pink form of my body stirred slightly, vibrating with the intensity of my emotions. It was uncomfortable, yes, but necessary. I had to confront every piece of myself, even the fury I felt toward Rose's legacy and the expectations I had inherited.
I took a deep breath and tried to calm the inner vibration. I focused on the sound of the lake's water, on how the wind moved the grass. I remembered moments from my childhood that I had never fully appreciated. Moments with Greg, where all that mattered was a song, an ice cream, or simply a quiet afternoon together. That simplicity reminded me that not every emotion had to be painful or intense; it could be light, even fragile, and still be part of who I am.
The memory mingled with others. I saw Perla, always so nervous, so dependent, trying to follow orders she didn't quite understand. I remembered how I had forced her into difficult situations, and I felt a mixture of guilt and gratitude: guilt for making her feel that way, gratitude that she still trusted me. I whispered, almost inaudibly, "I'm sorry, Pearl... I'm sorry... and thank you." The pink form of my body seemed to nod, as if it understood that I was learning to accept my mistakes without letting them consume me.
Then, images of Amethyst appeared. Her laughter, her carefree attitude, the way she teased me when I tried to be serious. I saw her training with me, chaotic but valuable, teaching me that not everything could be controlled, and that that was okay too. "Damn it, Amethyst..." I muttered with a bitter smile, remembering how her energy forced me to relax even when I didn't want to.
My mind then filled with more recent memories: Peridot working in the barn, nervous yet efficient, Lapis hovering above the rooftops as always, indifferent but present. Garnet watched us, serious, resolute... and yet, incredibly understanding. All of this reminded me that, even though the pressure was immense and my emotions were running high, I wasn't alone. I never had been.
With each breath, I felt my pink form begin to settle, to synchronize with my inner self. It wasn't just a power, but an extension of myself, and the only way to master it was to understand who I truly was. My inner gaze searched again for the image of Rose, not the perfection, not the superhuman strength, but the vulnerability I had hidden beneath so many layers of power. "Damn... you were human once..." I murmured, and the phrase felt like a liberating sigh.
The lake before me reflected my inner state. Sometimes calm, sometimes turbulent. I closed my eyes and visualized how the pink form of my body absorbed each emotion, allowing me to feel them without being controlled by them. Anger, sadness, joy, fear... each one flowed like water, entering and leaving, without getting trapped in my mind. "It's okay to feel... it's okay to be me..." I whispered.
Then older memories came flooding back, mingling with the recent ones. I saw moments of Rose caring for the planet, making decisions that affected thousands of lives, even without anyone knowing. I saw her make mistakes, fail, cry alone in space, and I understood something I had never grasped before: even those who seem perfect are afraid, even the powerful feel vulnerable. And I, in my pink form, didn't have to be any different.
I took a deep breath and opened my eyes a little, watching as the sky began to darken even further. The stars began to appear timidly, reflecting in the lake's water. I felt small before the immensity, yet at the same time, larger than ever. "I am Steven... I am me... and it's okay..." I murmured, letting the phrase flow within my chest like a mantra.
The murmur of my words mingled with a final memory: Pearl, gazing at my pink form, her eyes filled with both doubt and trust. She reminded me that part of my training wasn't just about mastering power, but also about protecting and guiding those who trusted me. "I won't break them... not them, not anyone..." I said, and the pink form seemed to nod, firmer and more stable than before.
Hours passed in that meditation. Images drifted in and out: laughter, tears, fury, joy, fear, love... each trying to touch me, but I was learning to receive them without losing myself. Each emotion was a lesson, each memory a tool. And although I muttered a few soft curses, frustrated by how difficult it was to feel so much at once, I also felt myself moving forward, that each moment made me stronger and more aware.
Finally, I felt that the lake in front of me, the grass beneath my hands, and the breeze on my face were extensions of my inner self. I didn't need to run from anything or anyone. I closed my eyes one last time, took a deep breath, and silently said,
"It's okay... I can do this... I can be me... and still protect everyone."
A sigh escaped my lips, and when I opened my eyes, the calm of the lake and the night sky welcomed me, reflecting a stronger, more confident Steven, ready to continue his training.
I looked at my reflection in the water and stopped. Something wasn't right, or rather, something was too... obvious. My eyes sparkled with diamond-like glimmers, the most intense shades of pink I had felt since I began training. My figure was more robust, firmer, the result of the hours I had spent at the lake, meditating and letting my pink form absorb every emotion, every memory, every piece of myself I had ignored for so long.
But it wasn't just my reflection. If you looked closely, there she was. Pink Diamond. Her image emerged at the edge of mine, ethereal, almost like an echo of my own pink form. Her features were familiar, every detail reminding me of my holographic mother and the stories I had heard. But at the same time, there was distance, an invisible abyss separating what I was from what she was, and probably from what I could never be.
My eyes met hers, or at least the reflection of them. There was love, yes, but also demands, pain, and decisions I never fully understood until now. It was strange: I recognized myself in her, I could see every gesture, every curve of her expression that had once been mine, and yet, it was impossible to touch her, impossible to reach her. As if we were reflected in the same lake, sharing space, yet separated by an invisible barrier that not even my pink form could penetrate.
I sighed, letting the feeling of closeness and distance wash over me. "Damn it... what the hell..." I murmured, my words floating on the water, and a pink flash coursed through my body. The fury wasn't destructive this time; it was a reminder, a push to move forward, to accept that this mixture of what I was, what I am, and what she was, was part of me, but didn't completely define me.
Pink Diamond's reflection shifted slightly, almost as if trying to approach, and in that instant, I sensed her loneliness, the same loneliness I'd always been taught to hide behind perfection and authority. I felt strange, vulnerable. I'd never thought that understanding my mother would also mean feeling her emptiness. But there she was, right in front of me, and for the first time, I wasn't afraid.
"It's okay... I can be myself, I can move forward..." I murmured again, and I noticed how my reflection responded. It wasn't exactly an echo, nor a perfect duplicate. It was like looking at someone who is a part of you and, at the same time, someone you can never change. Her gaze was firm, intense, but also understanding. And although the distance between us felt like an abyss, the feeling of familiarity was comforting.
I closed my eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, letting the pink form within me absorb that mixture of emotions. Anger, longing, fear, love... everything flowed between us, reflected in the still water of the lake. My body vibrated slightly, and for the first time, I felt that this form wasn't controlling me, but rather in sync with me.
I opened my eyes and looked at the lake again. The image of Pink Diamond was slowly fading, leaving only my reflection, stronger, more confident, more aware. But somewhere deep down, I knew that connection, that closeness and distance, would still be there, reminding me that the legacy I carried within wasn't just a power, but also a responsibility, a memory, and a path I had to walk myself.
"Damn... this... this is too much..." I whispered, and yet, the smile that appeared on my face wasn't one of fear or frustration. It was the smile of someone learning to be at peace with themselves, even with what seemed impossible to reconcile.
End of Chapter 56.