The Prisoner of Rage

[Strazio Rockwell]

"Gamzee!" Strazio shouted, "I swear to god if you aren't a figment of my twisted mind and you actually died I'm going to fuck you up!"

If the clown was here it meant that he had failed; Shang still held Strazio's journal, and the mage's sacrifice against Harbinger was in vain. Strazio stormed through the door before him and found himself falling again. The drop was only a few feet, but it was enough to stumbled the prime. Around him the world was chaos. Burnt wooden skeletons of old build creaked under their own weight, and a thick viscous liquid dripped from their remains. This wasn't Riverweldt. Indeed the mage had every scrap of Riverweldt permanently burnt into his brain, and this place was certainly not his hometown. Around the smoldering remains of this town sat a ring of burning foliage, blazing forever outward.

"Gamzee! Where the fuck are you!?"

"Go away!"

The troll's voice echoed through the ruined village like cinders on the wind. Strazio trudged forward, his boots stomping through ash and blood. This place was dark, darker than any place ought to be. On the horizon, silhouetted by flames, stood the troll teen with his back turned towards Strazio.

"Gamzee you clown fuck!"

"Go away Strawso!"

Strazio rushed towards Makara, fury in every step. The clown had failed, and now he had the audacity to invade Strazio's death dreams? Unacceptable. And so with every stride Strazio's rage grew like a cascading flood. His eyes narrowly focused upon the target of his ire, tunnel-vision was never more apt to describe the unequivocal focus he had upon Gamzee. Around him the world melted into a murky blur of browns, reds, and greys. This place seemed to accent every emotion, the depths of rage that Strazio felt grew ever deeper as he neared the troll. With one swift movement he grabbed Gamzee's wrist and whipped him around. Strazio's fist was raised, ready to crack into Gamzee's jaw, but the blow never came. His muscles strained, and yet he could not bring himself to strike Gamzee. There was nary a better word than haggard to describe the troll's current state. Small spiderwebs of blood shot through his eyes and a glistening wetness was apparent in their corners.

"Where are we?" Strazio asked, keeping his grip upon Makara's wrist.

Gamzee took a moment to respond hesitantly, "Ambrosia."

"Ambrosia?"

"Yeah, it's kinda like my home in the Omniverse, the only place I really feel at peace here."

Strazio looked around, "place looks like a warzone, what happened?"

"I did."

The words hung in the air like an unwanted pregnancy.

"What?" Strazio furrowed his brow, "you wouldn't do something like this."

Gamzee ripped his hand free from Strazio's grasp and spoke in a fevered meter, "the slime's gone! It's all gone! Without it there's no good vibes, no chill, no motherfucking chill!"

"What are you talking about? What slime?"

"Sopor slime brother! It makes me whole, without it this happens!" he pointed at the remains of Ambrosia, "Everyone is dead motherfucker, and I DID IT!"

Strazio took a half step backwards, "calm down Gamzee, you're making me anxious."

"Can't you hear? I said their is no calm, none. Not anymore, not without slime, not without the good motherfucking vibes. Nothing but dark dreams ahead brother, nothing but death dirges motherfucker. We'll sing and dance our sad songs in the flames motherfuckerrrr, in the flames!"

Strazio smacked Gamzee across the face, hard and fast, sending an echoing thunderclap across the fields of death.

"Stop that shit! You're creeping me the fuck out!"