There was no light except for the object inside of Peppermint's arms, a gently sleeping beast, Sorbet Shark's eyes, and the afterburn of my claw's finishing touch to the wall. Navigation was taken by clinging to the walls, going in circles, and soft prayers that there would be some semblence of escape from this storage. Beyond my eyes, and behind a stacking of desks, drawers, and other blockade, was those stairs, seen after having passed by this at least a few times. She knew. Mocha Ray knew I was here to save her and everybody else, and she, following that othered path, was doing everything to stop it. Something had gotten into her. Was she possessed? No other explanation for following sins and not the savior for Sugarteara.
The desks were a hassle to pull out of the way of the stairs, and I had forgotten about the trap-door on top of them, hitting a head already burnt from shockwave. That door was slammed onto a clearest, light air, and then, stepping into an area I knew well enough to travel towards the pearl. Barriers, barriers, and more barriers, but there were gaps one could step through, easier for the other two, but still managable. A little bit of hurt would not matter now. This was the cost of it all. It wouldn't matter soon, no matter how electrocuted this body became.
The barriers of electricity became rare. Signs. Good signs. And then, the Pearl, in front of my eyes, and somebody standing in front of it, adjusting her headpiece, a trail of lightning travelling from the jewel to the ceiling, the source of it all. The source of power, the source of obstacle. My obstacle. Just another barrier to plow through. But as soon as I stepped through, Mocha Ray looked straight at me with an uncaring, open set of eyes. Uncaring for me, but caring for something else, enough to be on the verge of misunderstanding tears.
"Leave, Lobster. Leave before you bring wrought to the world." I had never heard her sound like this. Every other sentence heard was gentle, permission-asking favors. This was an order -- an order she would never call for. Who pulled her strings? Who taught her to disobey me?