The emotions continued to watch the flickering screen, their gazes locked onto Raziel as he sat in confusion, his golden glow illuminating the dim space around him. His movements were hesitant, uncertain—like a child grasping at familiarity that no longer existed.
Joy stood frozen, caught between curiosity and responsibility, until a voice broke the silence.
"Joy, he's calling for you."
Anger's voice was calm but firm, his usually gentle expression laced with rare urgency. His crimson eyes locked onto Joy, unwavering.
"He needs you. We'll take care of this. You're the only one who truly understands his kind nature. You're the only one who should handle it."
Joy hesitated, his bright blue pupils flickering with doubt. He looked back at the swirling darkness of the memory spheres, at the glitching remnants of what once was.
But then—he sighed, pushing his worries aside.
With a reluctant nod, he handed the glowing purple memory to Fear, who took it with caution, his hands steady despite the uncertainty clawing at his mind.
Joy turned toward the control panel, his golden curls bouncing slightly as he walked. His fingers hovered over the controls, then, with renewed determination, he took charge. The screen brightened, responding to his touch.
Raziel needed him.
And that was enough.
Meanwhile, the others remained behind, organizing what little they could.
Disgust leaned against one of the memory shelves, arms crossed, her green-tinted eyes flickering over the dimly lit spheres. She sighed dramatically.
"It's so great to live among forgotten things… Really makes a person feel alive."
Her voice dripped with sarcasm, a smirk tugging at her lips.
Anger barely spared her a glance as he carefully moved a few of the spheres. "Disgust, we don't have time for that. Why are you—…" He stopped mid-sentence.
His hands stilled. His breath hitched.
His entire body went rigid.
And then, slowly, his red eyes widened as realization struck him like a hammer to the chest.
"…Oh, shit."
Fear, who had been examining the memory spheres with furrowed brows, stiffened. The air in the Headquarters grew heavy, a suffocating pressure weighing on them all.
"I knew it…" Fear's voice wavered. His grip tightened on the purple-glowing sphere. "Something's wrong. We're all wrong."
The others turned toward him, unease creeping into their expressions.
"We're all wrong!"
Joy, hearing the sudden panic in Fear's voice, turned away from the control panel, concern flashing across his face.
"What's going on?"
Anger's hands trembled slightly. He clenched them into fists.
"…We're not ourselves either." His voice was quieter than usual, almost disbelieving. He looked around at the others, then down at his own hands. "But we all feel the same… like we've known each other forever… but—" He turned to Disgust, his expression unreadable.
"I don't even remember you."
Disgust blinked. "Well, that's rude."
But her smirk faded when Fear took a shaky step forward.
"And I don't remember you, Anger." Fear's voice was hollow. He swallowed hard. "I don't even remember Joy."
Silence.
Sadness wiped at her eyes, sniffling. "…I don't remember Disgust either."
Disgust let out a short, forced chuckle. "Fantastic. Guess I wasn't worth remembering."
Fear's breathing grew uneven. His hands trembled.
"We're not real," he whispered, the weight of the words crashing down on him. "We're not real! We don't belong here! We—"
"Guys!"
Joy's voice cut through the rising panic like a blade.
The emotions froze, turning toward him. He stood at the control panel, his hands gripping the edges tightly as he took deep, steadying breaths. His usual energy had dimmed, his expression troubled.
And then, softly—
"…It's true."
Their eyes widened.
Joy swallowed hard, forcing himself to meet their gazes. "I don't remember any of you either… except for Sadness." He exhaled slowly. "She and I were always together. I remember her. But I don't remember Anger. Or Fear. Or Disgust."
The weight of his words settled over them like a heavy fog.
"…But even if we don't remember," Joy continued, his voice growing stronger, "we're all together. And that's what matters."
The others remained silent, still processing.
Joy straightened, his golden glow intensifying slightly. "New world, new body, new life, and new opportunities! Maybe this is just some weird side effect. Maybe we're just experiencing something we don't understand yet." His eyes softened. "But we'll figure it out."
His voice took on a more determined edge.
"Asriel needs us. And we will learn what happened—together. We will uncover the truth in time."
Joy paused. Then, suddenly, his eyes widened as realization struck.
"…That's it."
Anger frowned. "What's it?"
Joy turned to face them fully, excitement flickering in his expression.
"What if… the memories aren't actually gone?" He gestured toward the dark spheres. "What if they're just locked? What if all we need is time?"
Fear's eyes darted toward the lifeless memories, his analytical mind racing. "You think they'll… unlock on their own?"
Joy nodded, the idea solidifying in his mind. "Maybe. I mean, they're still here, right? If they were truly erased, we wouldn't even see them."
Sadness sniffled. "So… we just wait?"
Joy smiled, determination shining in his eyes. "We don't just wait—we live. We help Asriel. And as time passes… maybe, just maybe, we'll remember."
Hope flickered in the room, fragile but present.
And for the first time since waking up… they weren't just lost.
They had a purpose.
The emotions hesitated, uncertainty thick in the air. Their gazes shifted between one another, searching for reassurance in faces they barely remembered yet instinctively trusted.
Fear swallowed hard and gave a small nod. Anger followed suit, his expression thoughtful rather than fiery. Disgust rolled her eyes but sighed in reluctant agreement. Meanwhile, Sadness sniffled, wiping at her eyes, and forced a weak smile through her quiet sobs.
Joy's usual bright grin returned, his excitement barely contained.
"Alright! Now that we're all calmed down—yes, we have problems, sure. But let's figure this out together, shall we?"
A brief silence followed as the emotions exchanged glances, none eager to be the first to speak.
Then, Anger took a step forward, his voice steady. "We need to understand our situation first. The memories—why don't we remember each other, yet we act like we've known each other forever? And, Joy…" His crimson eyes locked onto Joy's. "Why do you only remember Sadness?"
Joy hesitated, scratching the back of his head. "I… don't know. But I think we should take this slow. Rushing into answers won't help."
Fear, still visibly unsettled, narrowed his eyes in thought. Then, suddenly, his head snapped toward the large window.
"One question, Joy."
Joy blinked. "Yeah, Fear?"
Fear took a few cautious steps forward and raised a shaky hand, pointing toward something outside. "Why… is there a gate?"
The others stiffened. One by one, they turned to the window.
Outside, beyond the vast landscape of the mind, something unnatural loomed in the distance—a massive, pulsing red gate radiating a suffocating aura. Its glow flickered erratically, like a wound in reality itself. Thick chains extended from within it, stretching out like twisted veins, piercing through everything—the ground, the air, even their surroundings.
A sickening sense of dread settled over them.
Joy finally reached the window, eyes widening. "What… is that?"
Fear's hands clenched at his sides. "I don't know. But it's bad. We should do something about it before—"
"Definitely," Anger interrupted, his voice tense. "But we've got too much happening at once."
Disgust groaned, rubbing her temples. "Great. What now?"
Anger glanced over his shoulder, and his eyes widened slightly. "…Joy."
Joy turned. "What?"
Anger pointed to the control panel. "You left it on."
Joy's eyebrows furrowed. "And?"
Anger crossed his arms. "Asriel is walking off on his own. Completely naive. No hesitation. No awareness of what's around him."
Joy glanced back at the screen, watching as Raziel—no, Asriel—moved forward without caution, oblivious to any potential dangers.
Joy huffed and waved a dismissive hand. "And? What's the worst that can happen? I told you already—we're human now! Nothing bad will ever happen! Not anymore!"
Fear's breath hitched.
His eyes flickered toward the red gate.
Chains rattled.
A cold chill ran down his spine.