Animator vs Animation: The Dark Web

Chapter 22: The Aftermath (Part 2)

The Chosen One's expression darkened. The silence of the meeting soon fell around the archive. Conversations quieted, and movements paused. Driftwood and Valhalla exchanged a glance with concern. The Color Gang, who were drawing on the chalkboard, froze. The Officials' breaths hitched from the reveal. Lace White looked at Rouge, just as troubled, as if waiting for his reaction. Rouge remained composed, but the tight grip on his quill showed otherwise.

The Second Coming lowered his head, his shoulders dropping. His hands trailed off the desk, signalling the end of the confession. Across from the desk, Rouge etched down the last words into his notebook before closing it, giving The Second Coming a heedful glance.

The Second Coming inhaled heavily, as if attempting to steady himself.

The Color Gang wasted no time to cure his discomfort. Without hesitation, they rushed to their friend from behind. They pulled The Second Coming into an embrace, instinctive yet affectionate. The Second Coming already melted into their hold, feeling the warmth in his chest as his friends surrounded him.

The Chosen One let out a huff of solace. From the side, Valhalla approached The Chosen One, too feeling the comfort of the moment.

Then, The Chosen One's gaze drifted elsewhere—to Driftwood and the Officials.

The former Codeborn members approached Rouge, their movements slow. Rouge, intrigued, crossed his arms. Lace straightened, tilting her head with curiosity, waiting. The group glanced at each other, hesitant; uncertainty of the anticipation took over. No one wanted to act first.

But then, Wisteria exhaled sharply before stepping forward.

Slowly, he reached for the cloak around his neck, unclasping the crimson fabric. The cloak slipped from his shoulders, draping to his grip. Then, he reached for his three heart clips, one by one removing them from his head.

He stared down at the Codeborn relics resting from his palm—the very objects that used to define him. He felt the weight of the past that the objects held; it felt more heavier than it should've been.

Then, with one more step, he placed them into Rouge's hands.

Rouge glanced down at the relics, caught a little off guard. Lace peered down at the objects curiously, her hand brushing over the surface of the cloak's fabric.

One by one, the others followed after Wisteria.

Mountain Mist, Dusk, Turquoise, Lemon, and Driftwood removed their cloaks, the fabric slipping from their shoulders, and unclasped the heart clips from their heads. This time, no hesitation took over them, as they lended their pasts to Rouge's hands.

Rouge stared at the growing pile of heart clips and cloaks from his arms. He lifted his head up to Wisteria, tilting his head slightly. What was all this for?

Wisteria gave a curt, but a certain nod. He knew his brother; he knew the way his mind worked, and would always find something to research. He waved a hand out, dismissive yet acknowledging, toward the whole archive around them.

Perhaps, their pasts and burdens could be repurposed—not just as a source of terror, but also as a relic of history. Perhaps, it could be something that the Dark Web could never forget; a story in time, and a lesson that could be learned.

Rouge lifted his head, breath hitched. It wasn't out of surprise, but out of understanding. He pulled the Codeborn artifacts closer to his chest, his grip firm. Then, he gave Wisteria a quiet nod back.

The Color Gang, still in their embrace, noticed their allies from afar. They no longer wore the symbols of the Codeborn, no longer wearing their past.

They understood immediately.