A part of Alaska expected the blob to pop at a moment’s notice, making her flinch with its undoubtedly balloon-like snap. Her silent prediction seemed to grow closer and closer to reality with each passing second as the mass continued to grow and grow, stretching out. But instead of popping, it kept inflating. She couldn’t even tell how big it was anymore. The raven-haired woman would have to step back and crane her neck upwards to get a better gauge of its height. A part of her wanted to say that the sight of it—wispy tendrils eating up the sky above them—was almost breathtaking, but the other part of her, the rational part of her was screaming that this was dangerous. What if—

She stared at the eye, a shade of red that popped out against the black. Alaska wondered if there was anything that she could do as she helplessly watched the hand approach, gradually at first, but suddenly somehow it was above them now. Huh. Was this the end? Because she certainly hadn’t been imagining a finale like this.

There was no need for it to shroud them in darkness. If Alaska squeezed her eyes shut, that would be sufficient. Was anyone else out there? Was anyone else coming to save her? A knight in shining armor somewh—

A rattling cage. “Did you forget about me? Geez!” She wanted to wince. Such a grating voice! So high-pitched and feminine and filled with childish annoyance. New as this voice was, it was still familiar.

She cracked one eye open first; then the other.

The child in front of her looked like she had stepped right out of a video game. What was it called again…The World Ends With You? It was utterly ridiculous. Alaska crinkled her nose as if to wonder Is this real? The child’s eyes lit up slightly upon reading the expression and then huffed indignantly. Her colored wings stretched out slightly while the matching dragon’s tail thrashed around angrily. “Hey now!” she roared. “Aren’t cha gonna let me out? You need me.”

“Do I now?” With fallen shoulders, she strolled over to the cage and loosely grasped one of the bars. The small girl leaned forward to grab the cage with both hands; her cheeks puffed out and her tail whipped around even faster. “Well?” She tried to shake the bars to emphasis her point, but she could only do so much with her scrawny arms.

Alaska snickered before she obligingly pulled the door open.

“Gee~z. What’s with the hesitation, A-la-ska?” The reaper’s giggles filled her senses as soon as she bounce-stepped out.

And suddenly the laughter wasn’t Kit’s; it was her own mixed with Nevada’s. The memories came back in pieces at first, like cut clips of a variety of movies that were suddenly thrown together. They didn’t make sense. It was almost like the film reel was sputtering, trying to make sense of the story until suddenly the gears clicked together.

Picture-perfect suburban. A stoic father quietly urging her for better grades, better leadership, better everything. A gentle, loving mother who put her and her twin in matching dresses. Bright green grass tickling her toes as she chased Nevada. Fingers coated in swirling paint as she drew on the canvas. The rhythmic bounce of a basketball while her sneakers squeaked against the polished floor. Trashcan ringing as she fought in her first fist fight. Dye running down the drain as she painted her brunette locks black with splashes of color. The whir of the tool as she leaned into the chair, craned her neck back for her tattoo.

She gently reached for her neck; her fingers traced the pattern with practiced familiarity. It meant more to Alaska than Nevada would ever more, at least for now.

Because Alaska Burns was more than one half of a nicely-dressed set of twins, just like her mother had imagined.

"Can it, Brat."