Watermelon Nora.
She could feel the flow of nutrients from the earth to her form, like water flowing full of sugars mixing with the sap in her inner stream, she could feel how her whole body, made of a flexible material composed of chlorophyll, contracted in on itself, how everything was within a shell like natural plastic, resistant and malleable. She could feel her equals in the same situation.
She could feel all of that, but she was indifferent to it. She could only obey the purpose for which she was created, NOTHING MORE NOTHING LESS.
But she still couldn't do anything to fulfill her purpose, she wasn't fully formed yet...
…
Connie was listening to what Nora was saying to her from behind the screen. She was trying to maintain a neutral expression, but failed as it turned into a slight grimace of concern, that was not a good sign. Although it wasn't as if she herself had an even worse expression on her face at that moment.
The conversation touched on a topic they had been actively trying to avoid these days, the situation Adrian was in. They didn't know how to help him, nor how he felt about his own situation, but it wasn't like they could just do nothing, that would make them look like bad friends.
At that moment, they were considering going to Adrian's house to talk to him, since they believed the subject shouldn't be discussed over a call, but one of the problems they faced was that they didn't know where he lived, he had never mentioned where he lived, nor did they know how they would approach the subject delicately or if they'd even have the courage to do so.
By the stars, they had to solve it quickly.
…
The twisted world of abstract concepts that was Adrian's reality sphere writhed as he was within it, the sky like an oil painting coming to life under impossible concepts, the stars shone like gems swirling in shapes with no angles, no physical laws to limit their impossibility, the ground beneath his feet an ebony-colored plain stretching infinitely, only adorned by red roses that bled and sang in incomprehensible whispers. In the distance, mountains as tall as galaxies rose, but no matter how close you got, you would never reach them, a tower as dark as volcanic rock connected the earth to the sky. Angels made from a combination of metal and mortal flesh, adorned with abstract concepts, flew around the tower in reverence to God.
He was there, resting as the landscape became less and less understandable to mortal sight, the place could not be described in mortal words, the whispers of his own voice invaded the chaos and order of the place, dictating the rules and making him the only constant.
Adrian wasn't truly okay, but he wasn't unwell either. He knew the moment he died that returning would be impossible in many ways, he also knew that part of his memories would be torn away as payment to have the power he now possesses. If he hadn't lost those memories, he would've just been another character—one who couldn't really influence the story—and most likely he would've died on the first day in this world at the hands of those two corrupted gems.
So he simply accepted that he would lose a few memories in exchange for power; it felt like a good deal, one that benefited him in many ways—and it was. He not only quickly accepted the loss of others when he couldn't truly remember them, but the emotions that accompanied those memories didn't go away, and that was what made him feel sad. To love but not remember, not even whom, his family, the few friends he had.
He could recall events that happened in his life, but not who appeared in those events, like trying to describe every person that has appeared in your dreams—it would be very difficult and not very accurate.
But that's what it was. He himself could admit that this was better because he wouldn't be mourning not being able to see them again. That is something logically good, but emotions still linger, and emotions don't respond to reason. So the only thing he had to do was truly get over what had already happened and accept what was to come because he refuses to keep wallowing in his own misery any longer.
Getting over what happened doesn't mean forgetting, accepting what happened doesn't mean he agrees with it—it just means he can't stay like this forever.
Then there's what he said at that dinner. The truth is, he really didn't care about lying anymore when the nuances of truth are undeniably hard to believe. In fact, it would be more likely that he could pretend to be God or something like that than for anyone to believe him. Garnet probably already knew what he was going to say at that dinner. He didn't really take away her powers, he simply prevented her from seeing her future. Amethyst probably doesn't care much about his situation and he's grateful for that. Pearl, on the other hand, must be a bit stressed since she's not dumb enough not to notice Nora's concern for him and what that implies. Connie—he knows she's worried and that she feels sorry for him; that's easily deduced from her face. Nora—he knows she's probably the most worried of all. It's not like he's so dense as to not understand her behavior, he just chooses to ignore it or joke about it.
Connie's parents might feel pity or not—it's not like they're close. Nora's father most likely feels cautious toward him, as if the person he sent to spy on him wasn't already proof of that.
But none of that mattered. It was time to return to reality to face the repercussions of his actions.