Chapter 39 - What Would Hound Do?

His lifeless body slumped under its own weight as Emily looked on, her expression disturbingly blank. Another corpse—nothing more. She slowly raised her gaze from the fallen soldier to Gazier, who stood hunched forward, struggling for breath.

“How much for your gun?” he asked through a pained grin, wincing at the burn of his recent backstab wound. Emily, edging closer, offered a curt reply:

“I’m not selling.”

She moved until she was almost within arm’s reach, studying Gazier with a blend of concern and malice. He, noticing her tense scrutiny, tried to dispel the uneasy silence:

“Let’s see. You tracked me down, handled those soldiers, and showed up just in time. So, let me guess—the big, bad boss is on his way, and I’m screwed?”

He tried a dry chuckle, but Emily’s face remained impassive.

“Tough crowd,” he added quietly.

Her anger slowly melted into grief. She rested her forehead on Gazier’s shoulder, tears flowing silently as her fingers bunched in his shirt, wrinkling it with every trembling sob.

“Emily?” Gazier whispered, unsure how to comfort her. When she sank to her knees, still holding on, he followed, placing a cautious hand on her back. The tears continued unabated.

“You were always a crybaby… Nostalgia!” a familiar voice rang out from behind them. Emily did not bother turning around; she knew that tone all too well. The pink bunny—Mavis, as Emily had once known her—stepped forward.

“Relax, bestie. I only came for their armor. I’ve decided to forgive you because now I understand.”

Emily managed to rasp through her tears:

“Understand what?”

“I get that you did what you had to do back then—your so-called teaching moment,” Mavis answered. She casually removed her bunny mask, revealing the scarred flesh beneath. One side of her face was intact, the other seared into blackened scar tissue that ran so deep it almost exposed bone.

“Look at me, Emily,” she said calmly. “Look at what you’ve done to me.”

But Emily remained on the floor, locked in guilt and grief, her mind drifting to memories of Hound’s final speech to the seers.

“LOOK AT YOUR OWN CREATION, MOTHERFUCKER!”

That vicious shout jerked Emily out of her daze. Her lips parted, and she uttered:

“What would Hound do?”

“What?” Gazier asked, leaning in to catch her muffled words.

“First, he’d check for any negative consequences of his next move, to keep everything under control,” she replied, this time loud enough to be heard. Her eyes began to glow with a faint red luminescence—indeed, her entire vision became tinted crimson. Wispy, blood-red threads rimmed in jet-black flames wove across her sight, representing the possible futures no more than five seconds out. In this moment, time itself seemed to slow, granting her a brief window to choose her course.

Suddenly, a single thread snapped, revealing the first glimpse of a Possible Future:

Possible Future 1

Emily turned to face Mavis, staring at the ghastly burns scarring her features. Even in this vision, Emily felt the urge to recoil, unable to hold Mavis’s gaze.

“LOOK AT ME!” Mavis shouted. “You did this! But instead of vengeance, I thank you.”

Another thread broke:

Possible Future 2

“Mavis, listen…” Emily began, “I’m sorry for what I—”

“Sorry?” Mavis snapped. “After all you’ve done, you think ‘sorry’ is enough?” She reached to her side and pulled out a shotgun, firing a warning shot deliberately wide of Emily’s head.

Possible Future 3

Emily, still unable to meet Mavis’s eyes, whispered, “Hound’s dead.” Gazier blanched in shock. “I killed him. He was the only reason I stayed away from you for so long. Now… we can finally be together.”

The vision blurred before Emily could see Mavis’s reaction.