“The word insanity doesn’t fit anymore, does it?” Red stopped in her tracks, her fingers running along the edge of an oversized draconic wing that folded awkwardly over her shoulder. “Insanity itself implies that it’s impulse. Uncontrollable. That whoever has it isn’t aware of what they’re doing or that it’s right or wrong; it’s simply something they do. And yet. And yet. And yet --”

“This again? Next you’re going to tell me that it’s the act of doing the exact same thing over and over again, and expecting different results each time. Tch. We call those scientists. And don’t give me that look!” A finger was jabbed in Red’s direction, who held her hands up in mock self-defense, “I know you know what I’m talking about.”

“And you know that’s not what I meant!” Red protested. “I mean the... Affliction? Curse? This.” The former werewolf gestured at herself. “What I am. What I’ve become. What’s... What’s happened to us.” She rustled her wings nervously, adding, “I... I’m still sorry for what happened. To you.”

The figure reached up, pulling the hood further over their face. “And I’ve still forgiven you. Neither of us knew what would have happened, and both of us knew the risks. Even though it did...” The words faltered, stumbling into silence before picking up again. “Even though it did something neither of us expected, we both came out better for it. We both learned something. We can consider it a victory, can we not?”

Red tilted her head to one side, considering. “That didn’t make sense.”

“What, the fact that I’m a forgiving person?”

“No, that “can we not” statement. I mean, we can consider it a victory, but the way you said it made it sound like you were asking me for permission. And you’ve never done that, not ever since you joined the Bogeys.” Red sighed, crossing her arms and looking down at the seated figure. “I still don’t understand why you did it. Once upon a time it was an organized alliance of mercenaries. Now it’s disorganized. Abuse of power runs rampant. Citizens are better off learning how to defend themselves.”

“Is that why you never taught physical education at Amityville?” The seated figure laughed, leaning back to kick their boots up onto the table.

“Maybe,” Red admitted with a grin. “I probably should have renamed myself Battle Instructor. It would’ve been more accurate, and maybe I would’ve gotten more students to show up to class. It doesn’t matter much now, though. Even if I were to make them play dodge ball, I’m sure half of them would be upset if I didn’t substitute bombs in for balls. Actual-”

“No.”

“But --”

”No.”

The gym teacher who should have petitioned to have her job reclassified as battle instructor crossed her arms and pouted. “See, this is why nobody comes to visit. You’re a party pooper.”

“Every party needs a pooper, and that’s why we’ve invited youuu!” Sang the figure in response. “But before you throw that chair at me, let’s back up a bit. Rewind.” They shifted, sitting forward in away that put both feet back on the ground. “Let’s get back to the main point. What’s this about Insanity?”

Red began to pace again. “I recently met with A-- no, wait, you haven’t met her. She’s a phoenix, yellow cloak, old squadmate. Back when... When this,” she gestured to herself, “happened, I ate a phoenix. With her permimssion --”

“Lewd.”

“Not like that!” Red snapped, stomping over to the table and throwing herself down into the empty chair, “You’re familiar with what I am, right? I’m... I’m some sort of abomination. I’m part werewolf, part... weapon? Hunter weapon?” Red looked confused, tilting her head to one side. “...Yes. Confirmed, a hunter weapon. They’re tools that were designed to absorb Fear. Something... Something happened to us. To the weapon and I.” Red began to drum her fingers on the table, looking away as her fingers shifted and became claws. The drumming stopped as Red began to idly etch into the surface.

“I’m already familiar with the story,” the figure interjected, arms crossed. “But if it helps you gather your thoughts, then retell it.”

“Sorry.” Red shrugged, then winced as she glanced down at the table. “Sorry again. But. Right. So. Thinking, thinking, back to the beginning of this mess... So something happened when I reformed, right? Somehow my Fear got tangled up in the weapon, but instead of getting absorbed by it, I think I absorbed it. I mean,” Red faltered, biting her lip. “Sometimes I wonder if it’s because I’m a werewolf. We’re all about being physically a wolf and being able to change into a reaper or human or some sort of variation right? God the non-human werewolves creep me the ******** out. It’s bad enough when a gnome thinks it has a case of lycanthropy, but when it turns out that it’s true and you have a werewolf with the biggest beard this side of the moon howling and peeing on things and --”

“Red, focus. You’re getting off track again.”

“:Right! Right... Sorry. Anyway.” She began to drum her fingers again. “Werewolves. Right. I thought that because I was a werewolf and forced my Fear to change in a way to take on dragon features that I somehow mastered being able to change. Except that wasn’t the case, y’know? There were others that heard about what happened to me. What I could do. They’re gone now.” Red leaned forward, hugging herself. “You always think they’ll come back. Everything else comes back in this world. In some way or another they come back. But these people, these lycans, these werebeasts... They didn’t.”

“But did you have a hand in this directly?”

Red focused on the table in front of her. “I knew some hunters. Enlisted their cooperation. Couldn’t find a weapon that would work with them, but some of them volunteered to try it out. They didn’t make it either. But... we learned things. I just wished there was a better way to learn them. But!”

The sudden outburst caused the figure to jump as Red sprang to her feet, knocking the chair to the ground behind her.

“That’s not the point! The phoenix I mentioned earlier?” Red leaned forward eagerly. “She was like you. Except gray from head to toe and constantly decaying in that weird smokey-mist-s**t that I still don’t know what to call it. But she got rid of it!”

It took a moment for the news to sink in. “What do you mean? She got rid of -- wait. Are you saying she got rid of the Insanity?!”

“Yes!” Red slammed both her hands on the table. “She’s a phoenix so it wouldn’t surprise me if she quite literally acted insane and killed herself again and again to cleanse herself of it, but do you realize what this means?!”

“Y-you’re insinuating that this... This isn’t permanent?” The figure reached up, touching their pallid cheek.”You... You’re doing something dangerous. Giving me something dangerous --”

“Hope,” Red finished, moving to sit down before thinking better of it with a smug grin. She opted to sit on the table instead. “We’ve got something so small, so precious. We’ve got Hope. But first we need to find a better name for it, right? It’s not a curse. Maybe it’s an Affliction or Infection or --”

“Using those words means that it is what it is,” the figure broke in. “What if we find a cure? What if we do whatever the phoenix did and get rid of it, but in the future it doesn’t work for the next one? Who are we to deny that hope?”

“Hope,” Red corrected. “You’re not putting emphasis on the ayech enough.”

“You’ve been feeding off of too much Joy.”

“Maybe I have been!” Red retorted with a laugh. “But it’s a wonderful thing, isn’t it? This Hope. I mean...” she faltered, getting off the table. “I mean, there’s always a chance that it might not work. But it’s a chance we’ve gotta take, right? After we rename it, of course.”

“And that’s why you’re here?”

Red scoffed. “Of course. Whether we like it or not, we’re in this together.”

The figure stood up, beckoning the werebeast to follow. “A little Hope, however desperate, is never without worth I suppose. And work. Come; there is much to do, and more yet still.”