Quick Author's Note:

Since there were subtle changes made over the last chapter, I decided to make two separate endings for this story instead of making one epilogue, thus differentiating from the previous book.

The following ending was inspired by the soundtrack shown above, as well as the episode where it was played.

Anyhow — That'll be all for now, and thank you for reading until here!

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Glancing right to left in order to make sure no suspicious gazes were near your field of vision, you let out a breath of relief before turning the dusty doorknob around and leaving the prison that was your living room.

A large, blindingly bright light burst through your open door, dousing the walls of your room with the much needed sun rays of the outside world.

Finally, after almost another week of hiding from your persecutors, you were able to go out again.

You stepped foot into the outside world, closing the door and pressing your back against it, the first thing to greet you being the hand of the woman you'd grown most fond of.

Her pale and slender hand remained in wait for you to take it, the bright pink glow of your (tone) skin contrasting completely with hers.

"We're here." She said through a bittersweet smile and a longing gaze, the hold over your hand tightening the moment you made contact with her fingertips.

Before you could collect yourself and your dispersed thoughts, your eyes began to prick with incoming tears, though you blinked rapidly to prevent any from rolling down your cheeks.

"Thank you. . ." You mumbled, voice almost inaudible to everyone near and present at the doorstep of the place you once called home. "Thank you for caring — for arriving here, even though you weren't obligated to."

Two long, almost eternal years had passed since the day you discovered the cause of your corruption back at Beach City. In those seven hundred and thirty days, your skin only managed to glow brighter, and — at one point — the texture of your skin began to change as well. In contrast to the normal, squishy feeling of your flesh, the texture was now similar to a rock, and that made certain everyday tasks become an arduous chore.

Such a simple thing as crouching down to pick up a dropped item was immensely difficult to do, and — sometimes — you managed to give yourself a black eye whenever you drifted off to sleep and unconsciously slapped a mosquito away from your face during your slumber.

You managed to acquire both rock hard skin and brute force, though neither of these two "superpowers" were nearly as glamorous, fun, and easy to handle as they made them seem in comic books.

Aside from those factors, there was also the unusual appearance of your fuchsia-tinted eyes and the large, mutant gemstone you had growing on your hand — the one that'd been most badly burnt and damaged with the explosion caused by the flower Gem.

At your home town, all these changes classified you as a freak. The glow of both your skin and eyes was prominent enough to make you look like a walking, human glow stick in the middle of the night, hence why you had to hurry back home before nightfall every single day, excluding the fact that you had to wear gloves to prevent anyone close by from seeing the mutation growing bigger and bigger over the palm of your hand.

During one of your walks back home, you were caught glowing in the dark, despite the large coat, thick scarf, and tall boots you wore to cover each part of your body as best as it were possible. Having left work late due to overtime was one of the most dangerous things you could do.

A group of men in their late forties had noticed you rushing back to your apartment and called for other people near them to watch the unusual scenery before them.

Soon enough, they began to chase you, yelling insults varying from "freak of nature" to "outer space immigrant". At that point, you began to run as fast as your legs could carry you, disregarding the idea or mere possibility of going back to your apartment since you didn't want to reveal your home nor daily commute to them, fearing they could either break the door down or chase after you another day.

You eventually ran somewhere else, zigzagging through a line of parking meters as you searched for a secure and familiar place you could hide in.

The overflowing amounts of adrenaline coursing through you prevented you from catching a breather, and though you possessed better strength as compared to before your corruption, your fatigue prohibited you from giving it your all. It wasn't until you found the humble and cozy home of a trusted friend — the caring mother of your former photography boss — that you were able to calm down and slump down at her living room's front door.

"(Y/N)?"

". . . (Y/N)!"

The incessant calling of your name made you snap away from your bitter memories, the feeling of a thumb brushing against your cheek causing you to jolt and stare at the culprit with widened eyes and mouth agape.

"Are you alright?" Pearl questioned, brushing another stray tear away from your cheek, the concern in her voice making you notice the equally preoccupied expressions of her companions.

Behind her, Steven, Garnet, and Amethyst were staring at you, faces varying with either frowns or furrowed eyebrows.

Even though you'd tried to keep them from learning about the return of your corruption ever since you left Beach City, they still managed to find out and arrive here, much to your surprise. They somehow managed to see through all your coverups and false claims — They were here to see the real you.

If it weren't for the unusual expression on Garnet and the tense atmosphere everyone brought with them since knocking at your apartment's front door, you would've smiled and asked them about their days at Beach City. However, due to your current condition and situation in hand, you chose to remain quiet, until one-by-by they began with their bombardment of questions and accusations.

"Why didn't you tell us your symptoms showed up again?" Garnet questioned, making you look up at her. "You coulda've died this time!"

A frown was present on her typically stoic features, the usual calm in her voice replaced with anger and impatience.

She couldn't avoid remembering the unbelievably horrifying and eye-opening day where she first encountered with a mass of corrupted attempts at fusion, those of which were created when Gems were forced to become something they didn't wish to become, thus leading them to lack any possible form of harmony and balance between them.

Though she understood a small part of your reasoning behind keeping quiet and avoiding confrontation, she couldn't handle seeing you take such a big risk — the risk of you turning out like them. As calm as she tried to remain, seeing you now uncovered — without any sort of gloves, rain coats, or dark sunglasses to hide your corruption — made her frustrated and unable to think clearly.

"You shoulda've told us the moment that gemstone started growing on you!"

"Yeah — You look sick, dude." Amethyst agreed, her eyebrows furrowing with careful concentration as she scanned your figure up and down. "And not in the good way."

"I thought this was all just another reaction at first — kind of like when I fainted before being healed by Steven's, uh. . . magic drool."

You began to explain the situation to them, leaning your back against your doorway as you passed a hand through your hair in frustration.

"But. . . After a week, I noticed things only started getting worse, and people around me started trusting me less and less each day. I didn't want to have to make you guys worry too much about something like this, so I decided to hide it all whenever we'd make a video chat or whenever we planned a day to meet up for a vacation."

"What makes you think we wouldn't care about this situation — that this didn't matter to us?!" Pearl inquired, her tone rising as soon as she processed your statement. "You. . . You covered it up so many times — It wasn't until we received an alarmed call from one of your friends that we were able to uncover the life you were living!"

"I didn't want to get in your way."

"That's something we talked about when you visited us two years ago — We're in this together, (Y/N)!" Steven chimed in, wanting to reduce the heavy tension growing between you and everyone else present at the doorstep of your apartment.

The now seventeen year-old boy walked between you and Pearl, looking at you straight in the eye before softening his gaze and extending his hand out to you.

"How about we make that promise again?" An encouraging yet tense smile tugged at his lips, whilst you hand hesitated over making contact with his. "We can start over — We'll redo our promise and try to trust each other again for stuff like this. . . Okay?"

Staring at his hand with uncertainty, you began to think through your decisions and what you could do from here on.

A few, extensive minutes passed before you were able to sort everything out.

"I. . ." Your hand slowly inched closer to his, though you took a moment to look around you again.

Steven's companions were still present around you, their intense gazes maintaining the same worry as before, staying in anxious wait for your response.

"I. . . I promise."

You took his hand in yours, giving it a gentle, somewhat cautious squeeze as your eyes closed and a ghost of a smile conquered the melancholy present within your chest.

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