A night of millions of stars are outside, aiding lanterns and candles in glimmering up the dark of night.

Pickle had fallen asleep, but Iggy seemed to have sat down...

He is awake.

Iggy looks around the room and opens a few closets in curiosity. A notebook in hand, he opens it and sees a kill list; the names of hundreds of angels listed for reasons oh so trivial.

He pays no mind.

He makes his way outside in the middle of the night. Right outside, looking at the stars is Zikh, lying under a picnic mat outside.

"Oh, Follower's friend, you're awake." He says.

"I kinda slept too early. Speaking of sleep, why did I wake up? Wasn't I... supposed to sleep for good?"

"I heard Cider updated the changelog and gave you the ability to wake up on your own during the maintenance..." Zikh says, not taking his eyes off the stars. Iggy also looks up at the sky.

"A girl used to live in that room of yours, you know..." Zikh added.

"Does she own the kill list in the closet?"

"Yeah..." Zikh sits down and looks at Iggy. "Don't tell me you've been looking at her stuff?"

"I needed inspiration. I wanna write." He says. "Any typewriters I can use?"

"I have one in my place. I'll bring it here." Zikh says as he walks away.

A few minutes later, Zikh, reading, and Iggy, typing are on the picnic mat.

"Wow, your rabbit script is pretty gory." Zikh says as he reviews his work. "I'm just curious, if you wrote this, why did you break down from that mantis' death?"

"Writer told me that there's a difference between writing and seeing with your own eyes. One can handle fiction really well until it's reality... I wanted to help, but I also don't want to end up like that mantis bitch. I care for my life too much for that."

"...You joined the crazy part of The Industry, right? Doesn't that make it a given that you'll be risking your life?"

Zikh closes his script.

"You just gotta have to accept that, life isn't fiction. It's real. Finish what you've started and I'm sure it will write its own conclusion."

Iggy looks at Zikh and smiles.

"Since when did you become my therapist..." Iggy says, laughing.

Iggy types the final words of his creation on the page. He finishes and takes the paper off the typewriter.

"Take this. Stress writing's pretty fun."

"Thanks, I'll keep this as a memoir." Zikh replies, receiving the paper from Iggy.

"Can I bring this typewriter to the room?" Iggy requests.

"Uh, yeah, sure. Why not?"

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Iggy's chronic typing can be heard in the form of typewriter noises. He's pressing keys nonstop during predawn.

HOURS LATER

Breakfast at the dining table. Cider, Louie, and some angels that had been invited over had been eating dried fish.

"Morning." Iggy walks in with two folders in his hands...

"Iggy! Doing well?" Louie asks enthusiastically.

"I think you've been doing better!" Iggy says. "Your face says it all. Did I miss something?" Iggy curiously questions as he gives Louie and Cider his work.

"What is this? A newspaper?" Cider wonders.

"A script. I wrote one to keep my mind off things."

"Certainly. I'll read it later." Cider says, setting the script aside. "Coping mechanism, huh? It does wonders for the brain... Like Gaia's investment in Logic Design, right?"

"...Yeah." Louie says, smiling.

"Sorry, I just wanted to ask again... Did I miss something?" Iggy asks in confusion.

"Just a little tea talk from yesterday." Cider answers.

"Oh, you don't wanna miss out on the third act! We're gonna talk about it today!" Louie excitedly says.

"Watch out for your mood swings, Logic." Cider says, drinking milk. "You're very unpredictable at times, that chess match from yesterday being a fluke."

"It's because I'm finally learning the truth. It sets you free and makes you look forward now, right?" Louie replies.

"...It most certainly does." Cider remarks.

She pauses in content.

"You know, that's what I want. More smiles!" Cider greatly emphasizes her tone.

"Says the shitbag who threw and murdered an Industrial yesterday..." Lorde complains emotionlessly.

"Oh, right, yeah, about that..."

LATER...

A few chunks of rock are chipping away as the lava pit grows in size. A few hundred bodies are delicately lined up just a dozen or two feet away from the pit.

"...That eel has been bumping the wall of the pit and it won't stop until it gets fed." Cider says to Iggy as the other angels spectate on their conversation.

"That's how the lava pit grows around here. It's gradual, but if we don't do anything, this place is gonna be hell in less than a year."

"Did the other consul-generals know about this?" Louie queries.

"Yes. They said there's no point in finding a way to eliminate it if it's an alien power that's out of our control. If it's a force even The Industry cannot handle, then we have no choice but to listen or Timeline-2 itself will be in danger." Cider answers.

She looks directly at Iggy.

"So, what should we do, Follower's Friend?"

"I don't know... Have a storytime over some tea, I guess?"

Everyone but Louie comes crashing to the ground because of what Iggy has answered.

"What? We can't plan things out this way, we need to clear everyone's minds and think of the possibilities!" Iggy explains, backing his idea.

"I get what you mean!" Louie says, pointing his fingers at Iggy. "We cannot think well with a hazy mind. Take off your anxiety dookie away and we're sure to think of the perfect plan!

Louie looks at Iggy, with concern on his face.

"Besides, Little Hero here and Pickle need to focus their energy on how to fight that thing instead of whining about it."

"...That's a therapist for you." Royal says, his bones figuratively broken.

Cider stands up and dusts herself. "Alright then. How do we get ourselves to do that?"

"You and Louie both still have a story to tell, right?" Iggy asks. "No need to brag, but I'm a storyteller myself. Whatever that 'Act 3' was, I'm willing to tell a story to the angels about it."

Iggy grins at the angels.

MINUTES LATER

An emotionally damaged Iggy is in front of Cider and Louie. All are on their seats at the dining table, sipping tea.

"And that's the ending." Cider says.

"So that's Gaia's story..." Iggy responds.

"Well... The angels are waiting." She replies. "Are you ready?"

"I wrote it all here." Iggy answers, picking up something from his pocket.

It is Gaia's kill list.

"I'm ready to tell the rest of Gaia's tale." He added.

"Don't get it wrong now. Every detail of it." Louie cheers, patting Iggy on the shoulders.

"Got it."

He comes out of the dining area and into the patio, where many angels are waiting. Some are on picnic mats, others on the seats, and the others standing up, resting their backs on trees.

The scent of food is everywhere, almost every angel bringing their teacups to the yard.

Iggy begins talking.

> "For my selfish reasons, I'm telling this story to divert my mind from what I saw yesterday. Maybe you're here for the same reason, too. Enter Gaia, a hybrid. You may all know her as the forbidden child of Heaven. A killer of a close friend of yours. Whose mission statement is tainted by the hostility of her mind."

>

> "That story is a familiar tale for the angels. It's like, that's all that there's to it. But that story lacked a middle; a middle filled in by those below the heavens. It's hard to believe it, but it's true..."

>

> "Not an ounce of blood was shed by her arrival."