[Dream] Dreaming of a Reality (Satu)

[Stitch]

The bloodied rain fell, pouring down upon the woman and her soldiers. She now knew her place in this world, and she now stood strong. She was no longer alone, and she no longer needed Stitch or Sadrina. She was now loved and revered, even if it was emotion given by men with no hearts. The bodies of the two forgotten lovers floated on the surface of the bloodied waters, hands clasped tight in a final embrace. Their unseeing eyes stared straight to Satu, but it was obvious that all life was gone for them. They were only visible for a few moments, if Satu could even be bothered to look at them. The soldiers had still decided to leave that row unfilled, as if wishing Satu to continue looking upon it. They had been two people that were betraying Satu; two people that just wanted to stomp upon her as the rest of the world had stomped upon her! What had been done was only sweet justice, and it hadn't been Satu who had swung the sword! It had been these men, acting all according to the needs of their Mother! They were seeking out her Guidance, and they had proved their loyalty to her! The blood rain continued to pour, and it eventually raised the red ocean seas even higher. The bodies of Stitch and Sadrina no longer would float, as the blood soon enveloped them, accepting them into a final warm, loving, crimson embrace. They stared at Satu as long as they could, dead accusations being screamed.

Satu was finally left alone with her family. They were the only ones to be found in this bloodied snowstorm. As she stood there, basking in her new-found place in the world, the snow slowly cleared away. The bloodied ocean continued to churn on what was now a shore, but the crimson rain eased, clearing away into sunshine. Real sunshine, even if it was lighting a different world then what had existed before. This was a world that would accept Satu in a different way. A world that couldn’t take advantage of her, hurt her, or betray her. She somehow had found power in these soldiers, and she would be able to show the rest of the world this Strength of hers. She could show them Guidance, and Freedom.

“Hey, you. Bitch.”

The soldiers turned as one, their feet shuffling in unison to match the direction of their gaze. The clear row missing from their ranks was still there, spanning several dozens of feet. The bloody waters no longer churned violently, as they had earlier. They were still and peaceful, perhaps beautiful to some eyes. Great beams of sunlight shown down on it, throwing ruby red reflections into the air. Right where Sadrina and Stitch had floated on the waters, right where they had sunken to their final sleep… A man stood. He stood atop the waters, hands casually held inside the pockets of his trousers. He was bare-chested, showing off the slim muscle underneath. He was perfectly dry, so he hadn’t come from the ocean. He had appeared out of nowhere. It was Stitch, looking just as alive as he had been before. He was smiling at her. Something amused him.

He took a step forward, raising an eyebrow, looking through all of the soldiers. He was staring straight at her, that odd smile on his face, and something of a challenging look on his face. He was daring her to make a move, perhaps?

“You said you had nothing to do with this. That none of this was because of you. Why are those men deferring to you, woman?” Stitch paused, glancing down at the bloody liquid beneath his boots. “This is your ocean… And they came from it. This is your fault. You are the problem. You are the one who ruined what was perfect. He glanced back up at her, black eyes glinting dangerously. “This one wasn’t able to get rid of this one’s problems. This one is too nice, too good, and too holy. This one would have loved you, even after all that you did to this one. Did you know that? This one would have forgiven you.” He had pointed at the water behind him, where Stitch had originally sunken. Where he had originally sunken. ”But me? I have no problem telling you to get out. You and all of those little corpses that you brought along…? You need to go. Now.” He wasn't saying it like a warning. His tone held all kinds of threats.

He took another step forward. He was exactly as Stitch had been earlier, down to each shaven hair on his chin. His eyes were still black, his body still slim and fit, his voice still rather high for that of a man. But he radiated something different, something foreign. Where Stitch had a heart filled with love for Satu, this Stitch had a completely different heart. One that radiated hate, regret, malice, anger, and resentment. He was focusing it all, pouring it all out at her. He didn’t seem to care about the surrounding soldiers; he simply had eyes for Satu. “You look different. Your Aura reeks even more than it did before.”

He stopped moving forward, pausing in the center of all the soldiers, cocking his head at her. “Leave. Now. Or I will rip you apart myself, and toss your rotten, mangled carcass anywhere but here. Perhaps in your sorry excuse for an ocean. It seems fitting.” It was impossible, but so were a lot of things here. The dead man had risen, and looked as if a sword had never touched him.

[Satu]

Bloody, red drops of rain splashed down on the lifeless bodies floating in the shallow water. The thick, viscous liquid dripped from their bleeding wounds, and slid into the unnatural sea. Slowly the former lovers sank as tiny air bubbles trapped in their clothing popped silently. All trace of the pair was washed away by the drizzle and the waves. In a heartbeat Satu stopped thinking of them as individuals, and instead focused her mind upon their betrayals that festered in her Heart and weighed it down. She was changed! Everything the tainted snow and rain had touched, it had fouled. Satu was no exception. The longer the HeartSeer was outwardly exposed to the smothering, thick wetness, the more her inner demeanor changed, all innocence simply erased from the Konti. With Stitch and Sadrina’s departure, the rains finally slowed, and then stopped altogether. A hot, yellow sun began to brighten the sky considerably, causing light and warmth to flood the area. Snow melted as brilliant rays illuminated Satu’s intricately patterned scales in a blinding prism of light. Covered with caked blood, it appeared as if crimson armour covered the pale shimmering scales. Satu looked different, stronger in the harsh, empowering light. But she could finally breathe now, and she inhaled deeply. The men surrounding her though, looked worse for the illumination, as every scar and horrific wound opened to her inspecting gaze. The Konti’s head turned slowly at Stitch’s insult, blue eyes answering the challenge in his black. He stood on the water, and without expression Satu sized him up, a Suvai Fighter looking for Weaknesses. And always, his eyes accused, but now his false accusations did not touch her. “No more tears will I shed for you!” She replied ominously. “Still you are wrong!” None of this was hers! Neither the men, nor the sea or the bloody snow. But all had embraced her when everyone else turned away, when Stitch and Sadrina had both turned from her… The men, the sea, Satu would make them hers! They would become her tools! Her hands, her lovers! All desires would be fulfilled through them… “I refuse to offer explanations to one such as you, I owe you nothing.” The pale Konti said calmly, she was done explaining. When had he ever listened! Her wet tears had dried, and the blood swipe of red across her cheeks looked like battle paint. And her tone was the tone of self-confidence. “But you were right too, this is a ‘perfect place’… now.” She looked amused, uncaring of his misery and loss as she appreciated the scene before her. The sun shone upon the waters, glinting magically. “Forgive me? Love me?” The Konti scoffed. “Lies! Never was a wrong done to you! Your Heart is Deceitful; you know nothing of love and compassion. How you have injured me! You deserved what you received!” The Konti looked over the men Stitch spoke of and her gaze studied them, weighing their merits. She addressed them then, “See… The Betrayer threatens? An innocent?” She lifted her hands forward, pointing. And the men stepped ahead without question towards Stitch to complete Satu’s unspoken wish. “You forfeited your rights when you abandoned me! You have changed me, foolish human. You can no longer order me about! Now reap the rewards of your efforts…” And to the soldiers around her, Satu proclaimed sweetly, “Let this man threaten me no more!” as they moved through the waters, and stepped ever closer to the dry and bare-chested Stitch.

[Stitch]

His cold black eyes remained on her, even as the soldiers marched toward him. He was quick to advance as she commanded her soldiers, uncaring as their ranks filed toward him. He had but eyes for her, and she was the only object of his desire. He wished to tear her flesh from bone, wished to rend her from end to end. He would fulfill his promise to her, and toss her bloodied corpse among that of the rest of these rotten wretches. He had little time for her words, and they fell upon his deaf ears. He knew she was in no mood to listen to him, so why should he spare her any of his time? No, her Aura told him what she intended to do. It was exactly what they both intended to do. Each claimed this place as their own, and now each was fighting to claim it. He merely had to make it to her, and then it would be a simple matter to rip out her vile throat. He would silence her once and for all, and then he would bring back the perfect. He would bury this sickening nightmare deep within the recesses of his mind, like he had done with all the other nightmares. Anything to keep this place perfect. Anything. A hand shot up from the bloodied water, catching to Stitch's ankle, causing him to pause. He looked down, black eyes swirling with confusion. It seemed as if he had truly forgot about the existance of the soldiers, and now, it was coming back to haunt him. They had reached him, even though they had travelled through bloodied waters. A multitude of hands reached up for Stitch, grabbing to his ankles and legs, trying to yank him down. He stared at them blankly, as if baffled by the fact that they were still here. This was between him and Satu. He cared little for these mangled corpses. He attempted to struggle forward, muscles bulging as he took a giant step, fighting to make the foot follow his will. Hand upon rotten hand clambered up from the bloodied ocean, and soon, he was a prisoner to their trapping grip. He stared at them for a few more moments, then lifted his eyes, focusing those dead black orbs upon Satu. He hated her. He truly did. She was yet another burden to him. Like the children! The words shook the world, resounding through the air. Only after the voice had exploded through the realm, would Satu notice that Stitch's mouth was open, as if he had spoken it. Like the guests! Like the Knights! I am without love, without parents, without anyone to turn to but children! Filthy little orphans, who remind me daily of what I used to be! Of what I always was! Burdens that require my attentions, day in, day out! Giving me no time for myself, no life of my own! I am homeless, loveless, lifeless! People coming to and fro, preying on my generosity! Taking kindness from me, then throwing their love and their friends in my face! Never staying, always leaving me! Why do they leave! Tell me, why do they leave! Why does no one want me now, and why did no one want me then? Why am I stuck at that forsaken hell hole of a building, for the rest of eternity? Tell me! Why! Stitch's eyes blazed at her, burning darkly, his Heart pulsing with dark beats of utter hatred. The hands dragged him down into the water, and only after he had vanished underneath the surface, would screams of utter anguish start to explode from the suddenly churning waters. He was thrashing and flailing, but the undead knights were holding him under. They were raising swords to hack away at him, raising hands to claw at his flesh. They were mangling him under the water, destroying him, tearing away at him. It lasted an eternity, horrible cries of pain echoing through the world, perhaps music to Satu's ears. It only stilled when they dragged the man out of the ocean, and the only reason they did that, is because they were bringing him to Satu. They forced him to his knees in front of her. They all bowed around him, deferring to her, rotting hands outstretched in an offering. They held his eyes, they held chunks of his flesh. They were offering this little bits of his body to her, as if to gift them. Here are the hands that would strike against you, they said. Here are his eyes, which were not worthy to look upon you, they said. Here are his chunks of flesh, which should not even feel the same breeze you do, they said. Stitch wobbled there, on his knees, staring up at her. His eye sockets were empty, his sight was gone. Blood soaked his body, cuts adorned his skin, and he had chunks of flesh missing from various places. He was wobbling, and barely alive... But he was smiling. That is why the soldiers had brought him to her. They had nearly broken him, but they wanted her to be the one to snap the final twig. He whispered, his unseeing eye sockets staring up at her, his words barely heard. "You don't know where we are, do you? You don't know this place... you simply want it to be yours, don't you?" The knights did not move, even though she could feel the horror and anger radiating from them. Cut his vile tongue from his mouth, they said!

[Satu]

Like the Children… The world shook at the words, as if its very foundation had cracked. Satu looked around for the voice's source, but it was everywhere, surrounding her. It was the world! Satu glanced at Stitch, his mouth opened and his lips moved, but no sound came out. But his silent words matched the maelstrom of words around then. With hatred he spoke. With hatred he looked upon her. With hatred he talked of his children. With hatred it seemed he lived his life. Satu made not a move, but let the soldiers take him while she smiled, a benevolent ruler whose dutiful subjects pleased her by their initiative. Stitch needed to be shown, he needed reality stripped away. He needed to see the Truth that layered sleeping beneath the lies. And if it needed to be ripped open by the sword in order to see it clearly, then so be it. He would be more deeply cleansed for the pain. Patiently, she waited. Regal in the bloody waters, covered in a gossamer gown with blue stars woven about the fabric. And on her head, seven, tiny, shimmering skulls of white bone were crowned upon her head. When the soldiers returned Stitch to her, he was more destroyed then they. So sweetly she smiled at them, her dutiful lovers. Gracefully she accepted the offered pieces of Stitch, one by one in her delicate hand. There were so many! How many made up the whole? In her hands they were precious gifts, and Satu tasted them as such, savouring the flavours that nourished and filled her spirit. In the blink of an eye, Stitch’s flesh, and eyes, and hands were gone. Eaten. “And the Strong shall devour the Weak…” Who had told her that so long ago? A dark skinned woman somewhere. The man at her feel was Proud and Boastful and her subjects urged her on to finish him quickly, but she listened not to them, yet. There was time in the World for many, many things. And she answered the man then; his words still reverberating in the air. “They leave you, because you live a lie.” She explained, “You deny your Strength, for them. You are Weak…, for them.” She touched his face, sweetly and softly, as if reading his mind, “Do not pretend this away, Stitch. There is Freedom in this lesson! I am real! I have consumed you! I will always be with you. No more will you be alone. We are together now, let me love you Stitch! Like those others never have!” “This place?” Satu asked looking about her. “It was your hope, but it too has failed you. It was your escape, and now you must face what is hidden... You have been abandoned. Again…” She looked genuinely sad for him. “Once more I would ask… will you let me show you how to live?” And the men waited silent and unmoving, for Stitch’s answer.

[Stitch]

He was a limp figure before her, his torn and bloodied body barely able to hold itself up, even in a kneeling position. He was swaying, a barely balanced sack of skin and bones that could be toppled over at any minute. It was a wonder he was even managing to lift his head to look up at her, with those empty holes for eyes. Hollow pits with blood leaking from them, gore dangling deep within their maws. He had various pits on his body, various little holes where fleshed had been ripped in chunks. It really was a wonder he was managing to stay upright, or even managing to stay alive. Every now and then, a little moan or groan echoed from his torn lips. He was dying, right in front of her eyes. His head started to sag a bit after he spoke, but she was quick to touch her fingers to his cheek, causing a slight shiver to course through his body. His head jerked up, unseeing, but still reacting to her presence. She spoke, and he leaned forward a bit, letting out a soft moan in response to her words. He was listening, as he was broken. What other choice did he have, really? It was either listen to her words, or die. He pressed his cheek into her cool palm, relishing the sensation on his burning cheek. He was like a little child, pausing in his rebellion just to listen to her words. Only when she had finished did he speak, his words shivering and shaking. "He is weak for them. You are right. He is weak for everything, because he loves ev1erything. He would not hear your message. But me...? I will... I will join you. Yes. You are right, I am alone. But now, I am with you!" His voice got stronger as he continued to speak, his words strengthing because of her. She might notice the muscles in his arms flexing, the power returning to his body. If he had eyes, then the light would be glowing in them! Her words were getting through the man, she was turning him to her side! She was showing him the Truth, and he was listening to it! Even now his Heart was... Wait, what was that? His heart wasn't filled with thankfulness, nor was it filled with love for her! It was filled with... amusement! His words shook the world once more. "I am just kidding with you." The soldier's heads snapped toward him, their dead eyes filled with horror and dread. He was joking? He was just using the words of their Mistress as some kind of build up to his sick punch line? They wanted to take him, to slit his throat right now! The only reason they didn't, is because they didn't have her command! But look at him, their faces screamed! He was smiling now! "This isn't just his hope. That was his hope, at one point in time. He has moved on, but only because he buried her memory. He buries everything he doesn't want to admit to himself. Her, and even his deepest, darkest thoughts. No matter how small they are. No matter if he doesn't even realize they exist. He hides every single dark thing about him so very deep, and that is why he is the good man that he is today. He doesn't even know how dark he is, far within his heart. How hurt he is." Stitch cocked his head, his bloody eyesockets staring right at her. That smile on his lips stretched wider, a sickeningly bloody grin beaming right to her own beautiful visage. "His dark thoughts surface as nightmares, for who doesn't have nightmares? It makes him normal. Then I take them away, help him bury them, help him keep them away as long as possible. I am his subconscious, perhaps." Stitch's muscles flexed more, and the world suddenly shuddered, harder than before. Hard enough to send some of the soldiers stumbling, the ground rocking beneath their already frail stance. "You are just another dark stain. You are just another nightmare. And I will bury you away, just like all the rest." "And I will bury you here." The world shattered, and her head would throb in turn, perhaps hinting her to the true nature of this place. Like shards of a glass window, it all broke, pieces of it falling to the ground. The shards of the world laid there, their image still bright and alive, still filled with motion! Her soldiers were there too, trapped inside that broken mirror! Only she and Stitch had remained, only she and Stitch were still whole! Around them, an inferno burned, heatless fire raging in all directions. They were in some kind of wooden building, pieces of it falling all around them. 'The Welcome Home', one of the wooden boards said. People were pinned to the walls that were still whole, the beings gored through in horrible ways. A white-haired Konti, one that was gorgeous beyond measure. A tall, proud man, holding tight to her hand. Children all abound, dozens of them, all nailed to the walls! They were all dead! She was in a burning hell, with dead bodies all around! There was one small section of wall that was empty, that had flames licking at it, but that refused to fall. Writing was on it, and blood had been used as the ink. This is for her. Stitch stood strong, bandages magically appearing around his eyes, covering them from her view. The wounds were still on his body, but somehow, he was up like nothing had happened! Muscles bulged in his arms and chest, and beneath the bandages, glowing orbs suddenly flared to life. He had eyes made of pure Djed! He smiled, stepping closer, the tables suddenly turned. "Come, woman. Your little tantrum ends here." A hand reached for her, going for her flawless throat.

[Satu]

Satu lifted her chin as Stitch reached for her throat, exposing its paleness against his darker hand. Grip tight he led her to the wall and placed her against it. Instead of restraints, her fingers clutched at the wood, holding her in place. Her sad eyes went wide as the flames leapt immediately to kiss at her ankles, and snake up her glorious gown. Red, blue, and orange flames engulfed the fall of fabric and tongues of fire crawled up her torso, peeling the skin away, leaving it blackened and crisp to curl in upon itself. The body burned, her lungs and organs were charred. Unbearable and Cruel, it bit into her nerves and fused them to her agony. The Konti screamed from pain, and screamed again and again until she could scream no more. Where Stitch’s words shattered the world, Satu’s pain tore apart the Heart. Trapped inside the broken mirror, her soldiers cried out in horror and agony. Unseen, they howled from the cruelty and loneliness of Satu’s exile, and madness. Emotion upon emotion assaulted them, and assaulted Stitch. The maelstrom flew upon wings of gossamer silk and shimmering grace, to hurt and to maim, so others would burn as she herself burned. Satu writhed in the heat of her flaming body, yet her white teeth shone from behind her blackened lips. No complaint would come from them. And her eyes remained sea blue and pure as they searched Stitch’s bandages and within his smile. It was her turn to be cleansed, and purified. Through her own destruction would Satu be made whole, did the man see? Taking a tentative step forward, the ashes fell from her blackened skin to dust her blood soaked and skeletal feet. “You have changed me! But you have also forgotten something… You can not harm me here. For this is mine also.” It was true this had always been Stitch’s special place, but when the Chavi had collided and entangled with Satu’s world, all that had changed. The man and the Konti were now connected, and the horrors of Satu’s mind were equally at home here. She laughed, the sweet sound of soft bells and tiny shells erupting from her blackened carcass. Smoky tendrils curled into the air about her. Holding her bony arms out as if to embrace him, Satu said, “My tantrum is just about to begin.”

[Stitch]

Stitch's hand clenched around her throat, his smile wide, his bright orbs of Djed blazing with triumph. "Scream for me! Know the pain I have known, for all of my life! It is only but a fraction, but it is something! Experience it! Revel in it!" Fire engulfed her beloved figure, and as it did, Stitch snatched his hand away, dancing backwards. He stood there, watching her, that grin still stretched much too wide. He seemed to revel in her pain, and it seemed to delight some deeply engrained part of him. No longer was it simply about removing her from this world in the quickest way possible. He was taking some kind of sick pleasure out of this, even though one couldn't even fathom why. If he was simply some Guardian that Stitch had thought up, some inner Protector that kept him safe from even his own dark thoughts... And even his own horrible pain... Then why was it twisted so? What vein of madness ran through this place, to turn it into such a horrible place of existence? If one looked about, they would see that it was slowly changing, even as they existed within it. The flames were flickering higher, and the smell of death was growing stronger. Althroughout the black sky, purple veins were crawling, throbbing with some life of their own. With each throb, Stitch's own head pulsed within veins, until the connection was painfully clear. This was even more obviously a place deep inside a dark part of his head. It was all his! This was his word, deep within the dreams of the sleeping Stitch, and this is where he could exact his pleasures! This woman was just another pleasure for him, another bad dream that he could banish away. She was almost done burning, she was almost completely charred. But still... Stitch paused, his grin twitching. Why was she smiling? She stepped forward, and the grin completely fell away from his face, bewilderment lighting his features. This wasn't right. How was she still here? She should be nothing but a distant memory by now. She shouldn't even be that! She should be something that the real Stitch would never remember, except maybe in a random nightmare somewhere far off in the future! Her words rung out, and the bewildered look turned to one of complete and utter shock. "You... we are... you are dreaming too...?" His lips barely formed the words, but as she stepped forward again, sudden rage overtook his features once more. "You bitch!" His hand reached out, his voice roaring the curse, his entire body surging forward to attack her once more. "You petching bitch! You need to die! You don't know what happens in all of his nightmares! You don't know where they all lead to! You need to die, or that one comes back! He can't have that one! Not again!" His voice held a tone of desperation as he lunged out for her, too frenzied to notice her strangely outstretched arms. His path would take him right between them. She would be able to tell that he had lost his composure though, that he was unsure what to do in this situation. For his rather sadistic streak, he had a certain amount of care for the mind that had created him. He wasn't so sure how to protect that mind, now. Would he be able to remove Satu. His wild lunge for her throat betrayed his now-obvious desperation.

[Satu]

“We dream together my lovely,” Satu sung sweetly through her burned and blackened lips. “It is his dream yes, and mine. But for the most part, I only add… a certain flavour.” And her mouth grinned horribly around the soothing words. She spoke automatically, without thought or plan, unaware that her own dreams were full of madness and strife. “We are connected. He will not forget, though you may try!” And Stitch called her names then, though they failed to register as such. Smiling brightly through the ugly gristle of her face, it was as if he spoke gentle praise into her formerly pale ears, instead of dire threats and warnings. Desperate and frenzied he lunged at her. The white bones of her arms were morbidly motionless, yet she held them out lovingly as he moved between the darkly, charred skin in his haste. Once again, Stitch’s fingers closed upon her throat and small, ashy chunks fell from her tortured neck to coat his hands and fingers. Oblivious of his attempt to strangle her, Satu’s arms folded inwards to wrap him in an unearthly embrace. “Come to me,” she cooed. “Come.” Bony fingers pulled him close, the smell of crinkled and singed skin fouling the air around them. Bits of blackened hair and burned clothes clung to her bloody legs of bone and gristle. But still her understanding smile welcomed him, though he did not yet know it.

[Stitch]

Stitch didn't even notice the perilious position the crazed corpse had put him in. He barely noticed that she was merely ash and bone. All he cared about were her eyes. They were still alive! They were still shining with love, hate, desire, and all kinds of unspeakable horrors! He wanted them to flutter closed! He wanted them to stop seeing, to stop looking at him, to stop existing! He wanted Satu gone, and he wanted her gone now! Deep inside of himself, he could sense a growing dread, as if something was going to happen soon. If she was indeed also a dreamer, if this was also her place... Then she had just as much control as him! Her crazed mind had already warped his dreams this much, and it seemed like she hadn't even tried! What would happen if she actually did try to exhibit some degree of control over this place? This was HIS head! He didn't want her here! He needed to kill her, and he needed to kill her now! His hands wrapped around her throat, and he squeezed hard, putting every ounce of muscle into the powerful choke. In a matter of seconds, Flux would be flooded to his arms, and the muscle would suddenly expand and increase, an incredible amount of pressure applied to Satu's neck. The bone might even begin to crumble in his hands. A joyful grin would be spreading across his face, the feeling in his gut slowly turning to one of triumph. He had her! He was going to snap her scrawny little neck right here, right now! He would put an end to this farce! Sadly, he did not notice her bony hands, coming in to wrap around him, and touch to his bare chest. That was all it took. In this world, strange things happened. Magic and mysteries controlled every corner, and subliminal messages made up the rules of reality. In this world, when Satu touched her hands to Stitch... Stitch lit on fire. The fire that had charred her before now leaped from her body, appearing out of nowhere, lunging onto Stitch and engulfing him. He screamed in pain, bellowing his anguish to the sky, falling back, struggling to get out of her arms. More and more fire flooded onto him, mixed with a black color, billowing clouds of smoke and stench. It was fire mixed with the taste of undeath. Stitch fought against her, pounding at her face and arms, putting his Flux powered arms into every inch of her that he could reach, desperately trying to break free. All the while, he screamed, burning alive in her grasp, somehow partaking in the very way he had tried to kill her just moments before. Behind Stitch, something began to materialize. He didn't notice it yet, but Satu would be able to. Four young children, their bodies charred and scarred. The oldest was a girl, the next was a little boy who looked quite similiar to the burning Stitch... and the other was another young girl. They simply stood there, watching, observing Stitch's slow torture.

[Satu]

Satu’s skeletal arms clung to Stitch’s body and her dried skin crackled with fiery contact as she pulled him closer, “It will be over soon, you will see. And nothing will be the same ever again....” She said huskily in his ear, but as his screams became louder she shouted, “Change is here!” Choking flames consumed him as dark smoke stained the air about them. Her embrace encouraged him, to burn longer and hotter. Her embrace applauded him for his transformation. Her embrace also held him steady, though he struggled mightily for release. But his struggles against her in this world were in vain. And the children appeared then, creeping nearer to watch as Stitch violently and loudly burned. Satu’s charred mouth smiled down at them from above and after a time, she called to the children, “Tut, tut. This way my little ducklings! Momma Satu will see to you now…” They gathered around her, burnt little bodies encircling their burnt guardian. Bending, the Konti held out her black arms to embrace them as she whispered lowly. Her words were not audible within the fire-filled structure, but the children listened intently, transfixed all the same. When Satu straightened, they turned as one to look upon Stitch. Perhaps something new lay in their eyes as they viewed him from their charred and damaged faces, but it was difficult to say what they were thinking. Then Satu spoke again, louder so they could hear her over Stitch’s agony, “There is so much to do children, we must hurry! My little helpers! I will care for you!” A reassuring smile crossed her unrecognizable face as she knelt down to the youngest and dusted black ashes from her shoulder. “Freedom is calling you... Can you hear it?” and her sapphire eyes transformed into those of a righteous fanatic, full of hope and determination. “Freedom. Freedom. Freedom,” the word played in the sounds of the crackling fire and wound through the air all around them. The children giggled as they looked towards Stitch one last time, before Satu would lead them away.