That wheat field again. It's almost as if everything had started here. Not of sober mind any longer, a man loosely grasping a rifle, disheveled from war, looked out to the fields before them, a single visage of a woman being found in that distance, sitting quietly with an expectant smile on her face. "I followed it... your needs... your desires..."
The man's ears rang, emerald eyes seeking an answer in the doll of a woman in front of him, failing to find what he needed as a palpable madness seeped into the ground behind them with inky black waters, rotting the life that had once flourished.
"What am I to find in this? I have been your painter for as long as I can recall, so why!? What am I to do within this drought!?" The man was staggered, stumbling forward with glazed-over eyes as the land grew dry, and the air became humid, the sun beating down on the red-headed man's wet back. He could feel it, his body distorting into something he had not wanted to become.
The woman spoke in whispers, not audible for the human ear to listen to, but they heard it, this man, worn down by war.
"That's... truly inspiring..." A grim chuckle left his lips, and a blade slipped out from his waistband, brought up to his left ear.
The woman grasped the swaddled ear.
"You are to cherish it, yes?" He wheezed out the words, and then sanity returned, the white noise cut off by the ear-piercing screech of cicadas at night, swaddled in darkness just as his ear was, amidst a golden field of wheat.
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"I believe she was only ten years old when I first found her," Rumpelstiltskin recalled, resting a head on a gloved knuckle. "She was lost, having nowhere to go... truly. But there was such a wonder in those glimmering jewels of eyes that she had. She had greater potential than I could've ever fathomed, and she hasn't yet reached it. She will one day, though, and when that day comes, it'll be the most gorgeous piece of art mankind has ever seen."
Valorie averted her gaze, embarrassed by all of the praise Rumpelstiltskin had been giving her.
"I trained her for this. I trained her so that she could weather the coming storm." Rumpelstiltskin reached into their back pocket, grasping onto something light, pulling their hand back out, and showing it to our whole team. Gauze and bandaging tape.
Valorie took a step back, almost tripping over herself. I could imagine instantly that she felt a sickening pull in her stomach as she saw something so familiar yet so alien.
"I believe I have the last piece for that 'Perception' puzzle of yours, dear Ms. Gale."
"Is that...? What...?"
"We now have all of the pieces... I just have to do one final cruel thing to give your lot the peace you all desire." Everyone watched anxiously as Rumpelstiltskin stood up before the group, circling just behind Valorie, who attempted to look back at him.
"Papa?" She whimpered as he held her in place.
"It's ironic, in a grim sort of way. In honor of that genius, I'd do something similar to what he did to himself to those who had committed crimes against the Nerve, or broken contract in some way."
A sword appeared in Alex's hand as she prepared herself for combat against this insurmountable foe, who wrapped golden strings around his own daughter's left ear.
"Yet now I punish you so, not out of a broken contract, or you doing anything wrong, my sweet..."
"P-Papa!? What are you doing!?" Valorie cried out, both hands grasping tightly on Rumpelstiltskin's arm.
I grasped my Anchorbow, but before I acted, I noticed... only Alex and I bothered to prepare for combat, the others just watching in a worried awe or downright celebrating it as if it were a bloodsport through Chris. I didn't know what to do... I truly don't know what I should do as that thin, brilliant string tightened along this girl's ear.
I certainly didn't know her for long enough to need to care about this, have I? Alex is only preparing to act as well because it's her duty, and it's an opportunity that she can take, but me...?
What could I do? Why should I even care about this?
I asked myself these questions as I leveled my Anchorbow at the man's arm, and before I could act, he pulled the two ends of this string, staining the left side of this poor red-headed girl's face crimson.
And the stage lights turned off.
The Intestines, the Cervix, the Spine, the Nerve, the Muscle, the Lungs, and the Tongue, Organs of the Underworld. This war took place beneath the Spheres' noses —a loud war that led to the deaths of thousands, yet, because of the organizations involved, not a single member of the higher echelons of any Sphere had noticed it, waged for five years straight.
Alex looked out at the battlefield before us, a look of disgust on her face as the mimicry of men shot each other down, massacring one another in pursuit of an unknown goal. Why...? Why did the Organs go to war with each other all those years ago?
Valorie blinked, putting a hand up to what should've been her missing ear, and yet, it was still there. I had a sigh of relief for myself and looked back at Alex. "This is a 'Perception'?"
Dorothy stood up to stand beside Alex, a hand on Toto as she walked. "Do you all know why the war started?"
Tel groaned, stumbling to his feet. "Which one?" He grimaced at the sights surrounding him.
"The Inferno. Why did the Spheres get involved?"
Tel's expression dimmed
Valorie looked around at the destruction surrounding us, "Is... this where we are? What's going on?"
"We entered Victor's Perception—a place of discordant memories. That's what a Perception is." Dorothy turned to look at us. "Through this, we should find the answers we need."
"I think I know what started the war." Tel, stern, spoke up. "An artifact of some kind, said to have the capability to bring someone back to life. It's why the Spheres were over it like vultures to carrion."
"Indeed... The first are between the Organs died down, yet what was left was something quieter and much more destructive. Let's push forward."
Alex took this opportunity to step up as Assistant Captain, grabbing Dorothy by the shoulder. "You're going to have to speak more on these... 'Perceptions' after this is over, okay?"
"Yes, I will."
"And... on top of that, you'll need to tell us what we have to follow from here on. I'm not gonna blindly trust you here, not this far in. Not when we have no clue where we truly are."
"We'll follow the only human here," Dorothy pointed toward a red-headed man in the distance who stood atop a staircase leading further into the city.
Valorie stepped forward, prepared to follow the man, looking to them with a curious expression. "Is that... Victor?"
Chris cursed under her breath behind me, "I didn't even get to change back into uniform, fuck!"
Too late for that now, I suppose... Not a moment to relax on this mission, it seemed.
The man we were supposed to follow descended the staircase with caution, carrying a black rifle encased in shadow which wrapped itself around their body like a scarf. They dipped down into a nearby canal, searching for something.
Rounding a corner, we found ourselves in the village, and that same man was without weapon and armor, speaking past us, though there was no one behind, or rather... it was more as if it was directed to Valorie in a way. "How many are we on now?"
"What...?" Valorie whispered.
"I don't think that'll be enough to help. All it's doing is hurting you. Art shouldn't be something you hurt yourself for. Like... my art... I express it differently, sure, but..."
"A-Am I supposed to respond?"
Alex shook her head. "Not if you aren't sure what you're supposed to say." She looked just as perplexed as everyone else here.
The man continued, whom we all figured to be Victor. "You can say that all you want..." A beat. "I have to go soon, though. I won't be back in a while."
Another beat.
"And why should you come?" The man walked into a home that looked to be the one Theo was staying in back in the real world; of course, we followed.
We found ourselves back at that battlefield, but within the sewers as light beamed through storm drains and into the nearly pitch-black brick-filled filth below. Nearly imperceptible, a figure moved from beneath one of these small beams of light to snap forward with their rifle, firing it down the tunnel and meeting their mark, the mannequin dressed as a soldier revealed amidst the black for but a moment before the lower part of their jaw was blown to smithereens.
And with that, Victor continued down the tunnel. "What could he be searching for?" Valorie asked in a whisper to the team.
Dorothy glanced at Valorie over her shoulder before explaining: "There's no need to whisper. We're just spectators here. They can't see, or hear us, or at least, shouldn't."
"O-Oh, okay..." She paused for a moment before continuing, "This... this is awful, isn't it?"
"Yeah... I figured it would be, though. I can't imagine war ever being pretty."
Chris snickered to herself. "Yeah... not exactly sunshine and rainbows but... I find an allure to it."
"What? An allure to death?"
"No," Chris stifled her smirk, making a sour expression instead. "That desperate pursuit of survival... the kill or be killed. Maybe I'm just too familiar with it."
"What the hell does that mean?"
Suddenly, once again, we found ourselves somewhere else. It's much more colorful here, but it includes Victor in uniform, and that shadow rifle propped up against his shoulder. "I didn't want to do this, but I found something. It's something the other Organ members never wanted us to see."
We were in a car this time, or some sort of bus. We grabbed onto the nearest supports or rests as the vehicle periodically shook.
"I can teach you how to defend yourself, and we'll have to keep moving no matter what." They paused as if waiting for a response before continuing. "I don't want to have to do it either, but isn't that what this is all about?" The man sighed, slicking back his orange bangs, "And with that... my final piece will be complete... I'll be recognized, and you'll become the best in the world. You hear me? But... this blind faith of yours..."
The man swallowed before clearing his throat and turning toward Valorie.
"Love isn't an excuse... not with this."
"Love? Isn't it love that..." Her expression became dour, "It would be nice though. I love, Papa, but... I want romance, kinda, y'know?"
"People will do anything for love, huh?"
"Is that... not what love is about?"
"How far are you willing to go? How far will you take this until you're done with it?"
Once again, the lights go out, and we find ourselves somewhere else. A night sky that looked painted on and animated grass brought to life, and in the distance, a boy. They looked distraught, looking down at another boy in front of them, both sporting red hair, seemingly siblings.
We approached both of them, and all we could see was the older one's face. The youngest brother... it looked as if they had none at all, as if blotted out with spraypaint. They seemed to have sketched something out on some piece of parchment paper before showing it off to their older brother, who was more horrified than proud.
In that sketch was the pelt of some kind of animal. The younger boy seemed disappointed by their reaction, placing the paper back onto the dirt and reaching in to grab what was inside.
Tel sighed, scratching his head. "This is way too abstract for me..."
And from that sketched-out piece of parchment came something golden and brilliant. The pelt of an animal, and in the blink of an eye, who we had thought was Victor held it in their own hand, gripping it as tightly as they possibly could.
I sighed, "We haven't been following Victor."
Theo took a long knife out from their back pocket, looking to have been made of Damascus Steel, and brought it to the pelt, easily cleaving a chunk off the brilliant item. "And they won't suspect a thing, alright? Victor? Nobody will suspect a thing."
Valorie took it into her hands, and as we looked back up to our surroundings, yet again, we found ourselves at that golden wheatfield. Where this all began.
"Why isn't it working!?" Theo screamed at an indistinguishable figure with golden eyes. "Why hasn't it taken effect?"
This man let Theo stand in silence for a moment, simply smiling at him. "Isn't it poetic?"
"What do you mean?"
"A pelt made from the corpse of a man's son, manifested in this... infallible artifact that can cure anything, save the mentally ill-- it could even bring a person back to life! In pursuit of this thing, people lose more than they could ever imagine." His arms were now outstretched as they spoke. "Those in pursuit of the Golden Fleece lose it all!"
"It was supposed to help him!"
"Did you truly believe a piece like that could retain that power permanently, or even have a fraction of what it is truly capable of?"
"It should've worked! I used the knife!"
"Is there not art in this as well? You've been so obsessed that you couldn't tell that you fell into the very same affliction your brother was under-- am I wrong?"
"It is not the same! He got into some cult, and now he's lost his fuckin' ear because of these stupid directives they keep giving to him!"
"Have you ever stopped to think of whether or not he has goals that are too hard for you to believe personally?"
"I can hear you! I know!" Theo whipped around to look at Valorie. "Virtually taking yourself apart for the sake of this love of yours!"
Valorie recoiled, her expression going sour. "Who are you to even say that?"
"You lost an ear, damnit! Is this even your passion!? It was mine! And you took it from me!"
"I didn't take anything!" Valorie's voice cracked, but before she could scream further at the memory in front of her, Rumpelstiltskin placed a hand on her shoulder.
He shook his head at the naive girl before him, calmly looking back to Theo. "You don't need to defend someone whose already gone, Valorie. A man whose already fulfilled their goals need not be defended. You're here, and you aren't them. So stand as your own person."
Theo spat at the ground, growing older by the second. "You're already leading a similar path. Do you want to end up like Victor? A bullet to the brain caused he couldn't handle it?"
Valorie looked hesitant, confused, and overwhelmed by all that was happening around her before Rumpelstiltskin spoke up again. "It's alright. A foolish mind who sought after nothing more than recognition cannot even compare to you, my Valorie."
What had to have happened back then? What truly happened at the end of Victor Flynn's life?
A gun was pointed at the man as he sat there, stuck on his latest work. One of his own students. He stood up, crossing over to the boy. There wasn't much of a fight. The remnant energies of the Golden Fleece coalesced in this man with a greater potential than his own brother in his final moments as he placed the barrel of a revolver up against his skull.
"That's enough..." Theo growled. "That's enough... I don't need to see more."
Guns are certainly killing machines, so much so that restrictions were made on their effectiveness. Once we entered the age of Gatling guns and revolvers, the changes had been made. Guns are expensive, but less deadly, still being more effective than the use of close-quarters weapons, but instead of a single shot, you need a bit more than that to completely end a person, especially one of a higher rank.
There are exceptions, however.
From darkness, a rifle formed in Theo's hands. "I don't need to see any more than that..."
There is still more yet to be answered, but we had to focus on the target in front of us before we got there. Amongst this field of wheat, a raven had landed to take our heads.